Friday, April 29, 2011

Kate Middleton's Got Nothing On Me

In honor of the royal wedding, which I really only have merely a passing interest in, and inspired by one of my friends' facebook profile picture tributes in celebration thereof, I shall present to you, this:

That damn thing never fit my head correctly.

Yes, I totally have my own tiara. I think being crowned queen of our winter formal is about as close to actual royalty that I will ever get. It used to be silver but it's gotten a bit tarnishy over the last eight (?) years. It's not like I sit and polish it every day, reminiscing about the glory days of high school. High school was definitely NOT my glory days. I don't even know how I won, other than that I wasn't a huge bitch and got along with a lot of the underclassmen. I wasn't really what you would call "popular" (the popular girls were the homecoming court, naturally), I wasn't UNpopular, I was just kind of... there. I actually expected my friend Stacey to win, since she hung out with the cool kids, but whatever. I'm not going to argue. And as shallow as it may be, I'll be honest... I was really excited that I won. THERE. I SAID IT.

As far as all the royal wedding hoopla goes, I'm seeing a bunch of different reactions on facebook, mostly people being all "who the fuck cares?" which, you know. Is fair. But I think I totally understand why. It's the ultimate fantasy, right? Don't a lot of little girls dream about being a princess? How many of them actually get the chance? Very few. That, and it's kind of historic. I think if we had a monarchy over here, we might understand more. If we were British, we'd probably care a LOT. I think we're just so far removed from this situation that it's hard for us to understand. It's kind of one of those things from a bygone era; romantic and nostalgic. Something like that.

It's more interesting to me than, say, Brad and Angelina or whoever the current celebrity couple mashup du jour is.


Although, this? IS CREEPY:

Way to go, Papa John's. Way. to. Go.

Also, I've noticed that the British really like their hats. Someone else noticed it too and made this handy collage. I would like to call your attention to the WTF-ery in the bottom row, second over, the one that's sort of... attacking Princess Beatrice's head... um, what?

And this concludes Kelly's attempt at blogging about popular culture. TGIF, etc.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Say Hello to My Little Friend

As I was pulling up alongside the curb in front of my apartment-house tonight, I happened to look over and see this little bastard growing in the absolute middle of the yard. I have no idea where it came from, but it made me ridiculously happy. I actually got out of my car, plopped down beside it, and got out my camera. I think it's springtime now. We've had two days of sunshine in a row. I've always been a person that likes warm cloudy days, but even I was starting to miss the sun. But this random flower made my day. It's the little things, people.

Monday, April 25, 2011


The good: taking a day off of point-counting and just eating whatever I felt like. It was kind of liberating. I allowed myself NO guilt. I even managed to talk people into taking a walk around town in the afternoon. See, I was being good!

The bad: eating myself to the point of physical pain. I should have somehow realized that my new habit of eating less means that, well, I can't actually eat as much as I used to. Even when I'm trying. Because that will end in a state of misery and an inability to move. Or even exist comfortably. Ugh...

The ugly: this week's weigh-in..... Wish me luck.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Quick thoughts on: VEGAS OMG.

Vegas. Is next month. And with Maria not being able to go now, I've suddenly managed to get myself worked up and anxious. I was all psyched about this ballsy decision to just fucking get on a plane and GO, but somewhere in the process, knowing that she was going to be there and had all the same insecurities and worries and anxieties that I did... it was kind of like a safety blanket of sorts. I am now missing my partner in crime. STRESS. I mean, it will be okay, I'm fully capable of doing this by myself, and there are a lot of other awesome bloggers there that I am so psyched to meet and hang out with and be perpetual life friendmates with... but. I'm not as confident about it as I was before. Sad violins, etc.

Speaking of Vegas and being insecure: I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO BRING TO WEAR. By default of being the only Iowan on board for this venture (to my knowledge)... I need to make sure to not perpetuate the stereotype of all Iowans being twenty years behind the rest of the world. (I swear it's only, like, five.) Double that with me being a pretty un-hip person to begin with, and I am having a hard time with this. (Yes, first world problems, etc). People that have been to Vegas before: what does one wear to Vegas in May? Additionally, what does one wear to Vegas, in general, so that one does not look tragically uncool in front of people that one would like to make a good impression upon? HELP ME.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Hello, Insecurity, My Old Friend...

Softball season has started and already I feel like I am going to be a miserable failure at the whole head-coaching endeavor. At least as an assistant coach or a co-coach, I could share both the credit and the blame. But despite how long I've been in this game (I estimate that I've been playing or involved in some capacity for upwards of 20 years now and OH MY GOD IT MAKES ME FEEL SO OLD TO SAY THAT, but you start tee ball at what, age six? GAHHHH), I feel like I am in no way qualified for this. I mean, it helps that a lot of the girls play on a more professionally-coached team also, so they're pretty good to go, but it's the girls who aren't as talented that I worry about. I worry about failing them, about not helping them to succeed, because I don't know how to correctly coach them, teach them. I can hit all the ground balls and pop flies in the world but that's not going to guide them into being better players. I want them to have fun, and appreciate the sport, and not get frustrated, and... I don't know. I'm trying to remember everything from a player's perspective and the most prominent memory is being bitter toward the coaches that picked others to favorite over me, who didn't give me a chance, who blatantly ignored me, made me almost quit. I don't want to be that person. I want to be the coach that is remembered for being fun and for inspiring a love of the game, for giving them a chance to feel like they belong on the team, that they are valuable. In the league I coach, everyone gets to play, so I get to avoid having to pick who is better, who deserves the field time, but, even so. I want them to have a positive experience.

I also want to win some games... because being on a losing team is depressing, not for me, but for the team. I mean, as a coach, sure, winning is nice, but it's not for me, it's for them. That's the other point of sports, right? Besides all those valuable life lessons and such. To win games, to feel good.

I wouldn't mind another shiny medal for my collection, either. WINK.

Back to being serious, though... I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself this year. I'm in charge. The season is in my hands. And I am absolutely terrified of letting everyone down.

Friday, April 22, 2011


I'm going through a love-hate period with this whole Weight Watchers business. Some days I get really bitter and cranky that I can't eat what I really want to eat, and I get irrationally sad that I am out of points for the day and have to stop eating. However, and this is a big "however" - it is working, and I remind myself of that every time I want to give up. I have lost 16 pounds so far and I'm starting to fit into things again and I'm going to look fucking fabulous (well, at least fabulous-er... fabulous will come, in time) both in Vegas and at Steph's wedding, SO THERE. Still, some days, I mourn the absence of Ben & Jerry's from my life. And cheeseburgers. Oh, how I miss cheeseburgers. I mean, I can still EAT them, but then I pretty much can't eat anything else the rest of the day. PIZZA. Omg. that too. I've never been a 1-slice girl. I usually need about 3. And pizza? Is expensive, point-wise. Especially the kind of pizza I like most.

And we're going to stop now before I get sad again.

However, I will say this: come Easter Sunday, when I'm up at my grandma's house with all my kinfolk, I am not going to count a single motherfucking point. I am going to eat until I'm full and enjoy myself and start over again on Monday. Life's too short for that kind of massive deprivation, after all.

Thursday, April 21, 2011


I haven't been blogging much. I don't know of it would be overly pretentious to say that I have writer's block, because that would imply that I do in fact consider myself to be a writer, and I'm not sure spewing my thoughts on a tiny little corner of the Internet is legit enough to make that sort of claim.

I'm at a weird place right now. I think it's something resembling contentment, as scary as it is to say that in Actual Words, lest I jinx myself. But nothing remarkably amazing nor anything extremely horrible is occurring, just... life. Rolling along at a nice comfortable pace. I've got no complaints. I'm sure I could manufacture some if I needed to, but... I'd rather not. I like being calm and happy. Even if it does make me boring. Er. More boring than usual.

I wrote a bunch of snippets for you all but then I decided that, in the total absence of any other material, I am going to space them out over a series of posts over the weekend instead.

A few short bullet-list items for today:

- I am still recovering from my illness last week. Sinus infection + 10 days of antibiotics + trying to go from zero back to Kellyspeed in a short time span = I am exhausted.

- my living room is starting to look a little bit nicer. I CLEANED. Unfortunately I always seem to be stuck in that "it gets worse before it gets better" stage of cleaning so the rest of my apartment continues to remain a disaster.

- I adore my new little car. I shall continue to adore it until the honeymoon phase is over and she eventually needs something repaired. Then I will grow bitter and resentful just like I did with my old car. Probably.

- I need an Easter outfit for my cat. Please send any and all helpful links to me so that this may become a reality. A belated reality, perhaps, but reality all the same. Make it happen, Internet.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

INTJ INTJ INTJ INTJ (kind of sounds like techno music, if you try and say it like a word)

So I was bored and took the Briggs-Myers (Myers-Briggs? It's showing up on Google in both forms and now I feel like a bad psych minor because I don't remember which one is correct) personality test because Cleolinda linked it and I can't ever remember what mine is (for some reason I can remember a million and a half useless things, but I cannot for the life of me remember an acronym that describes me.)

My "type" is an INTJ:
Introverted - 22%
Intuitive - 25%
Thinking - 12%
Judging - 44%

Which, according to the Keirsey temperament sorter, classifies me as a "Mastermind."

I'm not entirely sure what that means but I like the sound of it. I swear I use my masterminding for good and not evil. So far. Muahaha.

From the official Keirsey website:
In their careers, Masterminds usually rise to positions of responsibility, for they work long and hard and are dedicated in their pursuit of goals, sparing neither their own time and effort nor that of their colleagues and employees. Problem-solving is highly stimulating to Masterminds, who love responding to tangled systems that require careful sorting out. Ordinarily, they verbalize the positive and avoid comments of a negative nature; they are more interested in moving an organization forward than dwelling on mistakes of the past.

I'd say that's pretty accurate. Eerily so. (Normally I'd reserve some sort of skeptic comment like "personality tests = horoscopes" wherein to some degree they're generalized enough to appeal to a broad range of people... but the Myers-Briggs and Keirsey stuffs are pretty well known and somewhat legit. Though I think the free one I took was a spinoff thereof. STILL.)

From wikipedia:
But though they are decisive, they are open to new evidence and new ideas, flexible in their planning to accommodate changing situations.
No. That is not accurate. I am not known for my decisiveness and I'm one of the most stubborn people I know. FAIL

Masterminds are also highly theoretical, and the most open-minded of the 16 role variants. Before Masterminds adopt a theoretical notion, they insist on researching all the available data and checking the idea against reality.
This is better. It explains my indecisiveness, by the by. Because I spent too much time analyzing my decisions to make sure I DON'T MAKE THE WRONG ONE. There. I said it. It all goes back to my perfectionist nature and inability to be wrong and THAT is why I cannot ever pick the restaurant.

Oh, ha. Here's that full paragraph from the Keirsey site again. WAY TO LEAVE THINGS OUT WIKIPEDIA.
Masterminds tend to be much more definite and self-confident than other Rationals, having usually developed a very strong will. Decisions come easily to them; in fact, they can hardly rest until they have things settled and decided. But before they decide anything, they must do the research. Masterminds are highly theoretical, but they insist on looking at all available data before they embrace an idea, and they are suspicious of any statement that is based on shoddy research, or that is not checked against reality.
Strong will? Check. Decisions? Ehhh we've covered that. Granted all my major life decisions were made in a snap, so maybe there's some truth there. Hardly rest until things are settled and decided? OH GOD THAT IS SO ME. I get ansty in the pantsies when things are left hanging... oh you have no idea.

Also, I don't trust "shoddy research." Obviously. Though the fact that that is supposedly limited to my personality type worries me.

Yet another site (I know you're not clicking on these but I'm keeping them for reference later)... INTJ's are perfectionists, yadda yadda. No kidding.

Also, this:
Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the INTJ's Achilles heel. While they are capable of caring deeply for others (usually a select few), and are willing to spend a great deal of time and effort on a relationship, the knowledge and self-confidence that make them so successful in other areas can suddenly abandon or mislead them in interpersonal situations.

This happens in part because many INTJs do not readily grasp the social rituals; for instance, they tend to have little patience and less understanding of such things as small talk and flirtation (which most types consider half the fun of a relationship). To complicate matters, INTJs are usually extremely private people, and can often be naturally impassive as well, which makes them easy to misread and misunderstand. Perhaps the most fundamental problem, however, is that INTJs really want people to make sense. This sometimes results in a peculiar naivete, paralleling that of many Fs -- only instead of expecting inexhaustible affection and empathy from a romantic relationship, the INTJ will expect inexhaustible reasonability and directness.

Probably the strongest INTJ assets in the interpersonal area are their intuitive abilities and their willingness to "work at" a relationship. Although as Ts they do not always have the kind of natural empathy that many Fs do, the Intuitive function can often act as a good substitute by synthesizing the probable meanings behind such things as tone of voice, turn of phrase, and facial expression. This ability can then be honed and directed by consistent, repeated efforts to understand and support those they care about, and those relationships which ultimately do become established with an INTJ tend to be characterized by their robustness, stability, and good communications.

Soooo basically I am programmed to suck at relationships because I can't rationalize them into working but that is the only way that I COULD get it to work is to approach it like a problem that needs solving? I don't know. It's a theory. Not a bad one, at that. Also, I get an F in flirting, so that's accurate too. I was so socially retarded in high school, you don't even know. I was a wallflowery nerdbucket with terrible bangs. Not that a whole lot has changed, but at least I have good hair now.

Anyway. Nothing earth-shattering here, I guess. YOUR TURN! Take the free test here. Corresponding Keirsey sortage here.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

All My Own Hair for a Migraine

Oh lordy. So I found "Yes, That Can Be My Next Tweet" from The Bloggess and at first I was like WTF MATES as the lack of coherent sentences I was getting was a bit unsettling, but the more I clicked on it the funnier it got and honestly, you need to try this.

Behold, my "future tweets" and my comments in italics. All of this sounds like shit you'd say if you were talking in your sleep. Or on drugs. Or both. AND OMG I CAN'T STOP.

The other good brand for the size of it goes anywhere at Regis! Hurrah! All my own hair for a migraine.

The scuffling and when you for $40 at Regis! Hurrah! All right, I'm afraid of liberty suit tonight seems. Apparently I'm real excited about my Regis Groupon or something.

I had two finger scrolling bit... it's a week and I'll just drank beer out of my laptop and YET it's in. HA, that one was awesome. A beer-dispensing laptop. Ka-ching.

WHY IS IT BACK?! omg I'm trying to work. Missed last week. Oopsies. : I am disowning you from Downtown. LOL. I don't even know. At least it captures my need for all caps.

Sigh. These grapes look at all. But that I love not have been kidnapped by Patrick. I love that I have not been kidnapped by Patrick, either.

I think I'm hoping it's a petition to turn them on my July schedule is much spicier than anticipated. I'm confused, do I need to petition to turn them on so that my July schedule is spicier? Who am I turning on?

I've only done one play... You're a bit disappointing... But hey, they tried to fix all about food. Ha. You're a bit disappointing. Ouch.

Orange peach sunnyD actually Puffs. But I had no real point where to start a win. Hee.

That's the kitty and not wearing an hour. Sigh. These grapes look into it!!! Need a long-term commitment. From the grapes?

I don't understand why I guess I cannot make me out. My goal is in 365 MARATHONS in there, in pairs. 365 marathons in pairs?? Yeah, I don't understand either.

I love that I have to get the date 90 days and YET it's ok. it's the end of clothes. Nudity for all. In 90 days, anyway.

My sammich was especially delicious today. Then I meant that Flash suit. A little sketchy. What?

I should be doing it, I do not wearing an ad message? I could come in 4 days. By myself. Dirty.

Don't mind doing it, I am still in Japan and I'll just buy the year. WIN. Apparently I struck it rich in Japan?

...which is inevitably someone asking for me ; I DID NOT BUT I'M GOING TO DO IT AND CHILLS ON IT AND YOU. Sounds like some sort of hex. CHILLS ON YOU!

Yay!! I apparently own a student loan interest. You suck 99% of my new laptop. What's funny is in 4 days. I totally DO own student loan interest: not a cause for "yay". What's funny is in 4 days... when I... come? Awkward.

And these win hands-down as cheap as the Oscar tweets! Noooooo! I mean, at Best Buy. This... I don't.... huh.

Also: cost of shoe... that's the year. TEARS OF SAD. I will look into blissful drugged sleep. Expensive shoes are traumatizing, I guess.

GPS system = SLARF omg. SLARF. hahhahhah the slarf was pretty awesome.

Donate $5 to fix all of fat-free vanilla ice cream. You know, that's actually a cause I could get behind.

I just don't want something in my feelings. Three cookies and thank you. Also: cost of shoe... I just don't want something in my feelings. hahahahhahhaha. Again, though, with the shoes.

He even had no real point where to buy the taste of little piles of love clementines. Om nom nom. LITTLE PILES OF LOVE CLEMENTINES. YES.

I know. This was in. NOW IT BACK?! omg I'm doing! That's the important thing. The important thing is that it's back in and I'm trendy!

I've been about fifteen minutes before the Kitchen Incident of love clementines. Om nom nom. The love clementines are back! But there was an Incident. Hahahaha.

It's outside. The scuffling and hope for the tip of fat-free vanilla ice cream.

It sounds like it's a fruit whore. it's ok. it's a migraine this table. OH: Jesus Space Camp Ooooh shiny. I just... yeah.

He did them I'm getting overly warm again. Enough with PCs. I never answer mysterious numbers? I'm a Mac.

First tweet coming from a cupcake. I don't mind doing it, I was the old-fashioned way.

As predicted, forgot how to Vegas! WHY IS IT RIGHT NOW! ALL CAPS EXCITEMENT WHEEE! I'm not THAT retarded. I'm glad that we're excited that I'm not retarded. Or at least not THAT retarded. What?

I will make myself decide on DVD. I am still in my feelings. I can't get out of those damn feelings.

Hint: I've only $18.99. THANKS AMAZON. eeeeeeeeee creepy It sounds delicious. Bring me some.

These grapes look like the fact that the old-fashioned way. Thank you, there will be repercussions.

Protip: try to not THAT retarded. I'm afraid of fat-free vanilla ice cream. We all are.

Well, that was fun. We'll have to do that again sometime. Hopefully with a new batch of keywords, or something.

Friday, April 15, 2011

A brilliant plan.

Guys, I've figured out how to make myself a millionaire. I've devised a spectacular new diet plan that will still allow you to lose weight without doing ANYTHING AT ALL!

1. Get sick. You can pick your ailment, but a fever/flu/cold/sinus infection works best from my experience.

2. You'll find that you'll eat less for the following reasons!
2a. You have to be hungry enough to be willing to crawl out of your cocoon in order to quest for food. We're talking serious desperation, people.

2b. You won't be able to leave your house to get groceries so you'll be stuck with what you have. Which will pretty much be nothing.

2c. You will no longer actually be able to taste anything, which takes 100% of the enjoyment out of eating everything.

3. Repeat this for several days and enjoy.

In all serious though... I'm ready for this week of perpetual sickitude to be OVER. I seriously got on a coughing fit this morning that was so intense I almost threw up. It was ridiculous.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

I'm sick *dainty cough*

Well, it's happened. I seem to have caught the plague that's been circulating around central Iowa lately.

It's been a while since I've been truly sick. Usually I just wear myself ragged to the point where my body shuts down, which I suppose is a type of sickness, but at least I can do things like read or watch movies or play on the Internet. This is the first time I've been able to stay upright and stare at a screen without the mere thought of it making my head explode.

It started Friday night with a sniffle. No big, I thought I'd take a hit of Zicam and head it off at the past. It worked the last time I started to feel crappy. Instead, I woke up Saturday morning with a full-on head cold. Awesome. I had to work at the store so I had no choice but to get up and get moving. Being upright actually helped my congestion, and the longer I was vertical, the better I felt. I worked my shift, met up with some of my friends for a late lunch, a brief excursion through the sculpture garden in Des Moines (in our first 80 degree weather of the season - woo!) and we parted ways with plans to meet up for drinking and hanging out on Local Maria's deck in a couple hours. A perfect Saturday evening.

Until I got home, stripped off my jeans and tshirt and took a nap, assuming I was just overly warm from the sunshine and not being used to the weather. When I woke up from my nap, I had that dreaded stabbing feeling in my skin, which felt way too warm, but painfully cold if I emerged from the covers. After locating my handy dandy thermometer, I confirmed my suspicions: I had a fever. Goody.

I began my regimen of alternating ibuprofen and acetaminophen every four hours and my fever broke around 10:30 and all was swell, minus the lingering ache and massive headache that went into the next morning. By lunchtime today though the temp had started to inch back up to 99, so Calee saved the day by bringing me more ibuprofen and some diet 7up (no points!). I don't keep nearly as much ibuprofen in my house as I used to - it kind of fucked up my stomach a few years back so I really only take it when I have a fever or really bad cramps. Seeing as how I have not had a fever in ages, I only had a few left and ran out last night. 7up and Sprite are my go to "sick" beverages - it's what I always had as a kid when I was sick. Shut up, they have magical healing powers.

Anyway so I feel like maybe I'm on the home stretch, I have way too much going on this week to take any sick days, so I'm hoping I'm better by tomorrow. The fact that I've been upright for about an hour now gives me hope. Blargh.

Well that was a super fun exciting post. Remember when I used to be interesting? Yeah me either.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011


So I got a new car last weekend. (What, you're surprised? It was foreshadowed here.) Yes, I know, that's a rather big piece of news for someone with as tame a life as me, but I wanted to hold off on posting it until I could do this:

The History of Kellycars: A Retrospective

2000-2006: The 1993 Chevy Cavalier

BAM. Scanned from my high school scrapbook. (This is what took so long. I'm fucking lazy when I get home.)

What you see here is, well, a plethora of noteworthy things:

1. My hair was heinously fluffy back then, but you should have seen it when I tried to blowdry it. Except you won't. No one ever will. *shudder*

2. I was a skinny bitch. Except I was much too timid and shy to be a bitch. I was a skinny nerd.

3. My glorious first car, in all its bright blue glory, being pimped out for homecoming festivities. HOSHIT, was that a pang of nostalgia? Wtf, me. I've spent the last eight years trying to distance myself from that era, but I guess in hindsight, I've learned to forgive and move on and really, it wasn't that bad. If Current Kelly were to take the place of Young Naive Kelly and re-live that experience (hypothetically, of course, because, um, hell no), I'd totally rock it this time.

What were we talking about? Oh yeah. So that was my first car. I loved it. Every once in a while I'll hear a song from that general time period, and it will take me back to driving down that road that led to my school, my first taste of freedom. It's a small list of songs, but that's probably because all our radio stations played the same ones over and over. But when I hear them, I'm right back in that driver's seat.

Eventually, though, my dad became concerned for my safety, what with making the 100 mile trip to and from college on a regular basis, apparently he felt that my beloved Cavalier was no longer to be trusted.

I was sad to see it go... it was replaced with this:

2006-2011: The 1997 Pontiac Grand Am

I don't have any pictures of me with it, so, here's photographic evidence of my triumph over parallel parking. (Yes, it was on my list, why do you ask?). HINT: it's the one in the middle.

Ah, the Pontiac, RIP. I bitched about it a lot, but I didn't hate it. We had some good times. I took it to St. Louis and to somewhere in Wisconsin and to Omaha and to Minneapolis and that's about the radius that I ever go. I put 50,000 miles on that car in a 5-year span. It never failed to cool me down in the summer and warm me up in the winter and it had a great radio. And it wasn't the nicest of cars so I didn't have to be on the lookout about something happening to it. We were friends, that car and I. It was my college car. It got me through college and a bit after. I was going to wait another year or so to start looking for a new one, but that timeline got moved up quite a bit.

All in all, it was a decent car. For a while. Then, like all other Grand Ams, it became a ticking time bomb of expensive repairs. Expensive because the engine was designed by someone who was probably drunk. Everything is apparently on top of everything else, so you have to rip it all out in order to fix anything. I'm not even sure what's actually on top, because everything is underneath something else. Labor costs are insane.

I didn't always harbor such a distrust of this car, but I gradually began to view it as a conspiracy against my sanity and bank account. I had planned to drive it until the wheels fell off (which they kind of did) or until it died (which it kind of did). My frustrations against this car have been well documented here on this ol' blog. Specifically: here. And here. And here. And here. And here. And probably more places but I got tired of looking.

Finally the cost of repairs came to be more than the car was worth, and it was time to let go.

It was kind of exciting... my first "grown up" car. I could pick what I wanted and set my own price range and... well. I wasn't initially too picky, but the used car market is a shitty place to be right now, so my options were limited. So I had to decide what I was looking for so I could focus my search a bit better.

I present to you..

2011-present: The 2007 Chevy Cobalt

I'm really creeped out at how much I look like my mother in this picture.


The Cobalt actually descended from the Cavalier, in that it sort of replaced the Cavalier in 2005. (Oh, yes. I did research.) I like small cars; I get that they're maybe not quite as safe as a mid-size or larger car, but, hi, I'm not a big person (at least, not vertically) and I fit better in a small one. I wanted four doors again because two is a pain in the ass. I wanted the essentials: working heat/AC, automatic locks, automatic windows (I drove a 2008 that had MANUAL LOCKS AND WINDOWS. Hi, welcome to the 21st century. That was a deal-breaker for me.), decent radio, lowish mileage, cheap.

My new baby only has 31K miles (although in about 6 miles or so, we'll be at 32K. The horror.) She was cheap and she was modern (auto locks & windows, hi!)... Not my first choice in color (it's almost the same as my old one) but this color is nice because it hides dirt and dust better and let's face it, I'm not great at grooming my cars.

The downside (and the only reason I could afford it) is that it has a prior salvage title, aka, it was wrecked and fixed back up. Which will only be a huge problem if I want to sell it anytime soon, because that's kind of a big ol' black mark against it, but it doesn't bother me, seeing as how it seems to be fixed up just peachily.

It's really fun to drive, too. I only had it for a day when it started to fit like a glove. It drives so much smoother than the Pontiac (for which I did not get much out of, by way of trade-in value, despite the new tires, but, well. Let's call a spade a spade. It was kind of a shitty car.) The turning radius is amazing. It gets decent gas mileage too, looks like. The tires are noisy but they're new too so I'm stuck with them for a while. Ah, well.

Anyway, more pictures for your enjoyment.

PS - It's really quite a disturbing thing, looking at your high school pictures. Especially when you're trying to do something like lose a pile of weight. Do not be surprised if I have a whim to scan more and post them. Because who doesn't love looking at awkward high school pictures of other people? Oh, this could be fun. Stay tuned...

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

All Grown Up & Getting Existential

"You know the one thing that grown-ups don't call themselves? ...Grown-ups. They say "adults," and they pronounce it "ah-dults." - Gilmore Girls*

*I miss this show. Sad sigh.

I've kind of been teetering on the edge of this oh-so-brilliant revelation for a while now, but it occurs to me, that, without question... holy shit, I'm a grownup.

[Insert random thought tangent that led to the quote that began this blog entry. Except it's all out of sequence because, obviously, that's at the beginning and chronologically it would go right here. But that's just bad formatting. OMG SHUT UP KELLY.]

I don't know what it is. If I somehow passed over the magical threshold and poof!.. or what. I mean, obviously, on paper, I'm an adult. I'm 26.5 years old, I have a steady job, bills to pay, my own health insurance, and the ability to do whatever I want whenever I please (which generally consists of such risque behavior as taking naps when I get home from work). I'm in charge of my life, and I've been pretty satisfied with the way I've been steering it.

But somewhere over the last couple days... I don't know, I just feel different. I've been running around like mad launching project after project at work, but I'm not overwhelmed anymore. I had one afternoon of panic, and then I put my game face on, and have been systematically organizing and prioritizing and just generally getting shit done.

I didn't even blink an eye when softball practice started this week, and I was suddenly in charge of managing a roster and schedules and sorting through and relaying pertinent information and did I mention I am in charge of a whole team this year? My biggest fear, though, has become merely keeping the girls focused and on task because I don't have it in me to be mean or strict with them and one of the girls called me on my lack of ability to be a "mean coach." (Have you ever tried to keep eight to ten middle school girls focused on anything? THEN YOU WILL UNDERSTAND.)

It's like... all this responsibility doesn't even faze me anymore. Bring it on, if you will. I'm ready for it.

I don't know what's happening to me... I'm finally getting a grip on myself... too much time wallowing in God knows what, self-pity maybe. "Yes, I'm sad, I'll eat this pint of ice cream".... that solved nothing and only hurt myself (ie: fat.). I'll be damned if this whole positive-healthy-lifestyle schtick isn't actually making me feel like a better person. I think I've inadvertently joined the cult? I have no idea. BEING HEALTHY IS FUN, WHEEE.

I feel eerily focused. The more I think about it, the more it unsettles me. I'm afraid of the inevitable crash. Because it always comes. Good, bad, good, bad. The normal cycle of the mentally-chemically-unbalanced.

But I'm tired, right now. I'm tired and that feels normal. So maybe it's not a case of a temporary high with weird bursts of energy with a miserable low with lots of sleepytime to follow... maybe I just found my way again. Maybe I'm on track.

I sometimes wonder about that. (SEGUE ALERT). I wonder if I made all the right decisions, took all the right roads. If I'd truly listened to my heart when I was eighteen, I probably would have been an English major. I'd probably be fighting for the small handful of teaching jobs in the area. I'd be banging my head against a desk trying to write that damn novel. (Well, ok. That part is still true.) I wanted to be a writer. That's what I wanted, when I was a teenager.

But they make you decide your life when you're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. You have to decide right then and hope you were right. I followed my heart, a little bit. I had to do something creative, I knew that much. If I stifled that part of my soul much longer I'd have probably died. I don't mean that in a drama-queen sort of way... I mean that in the "storm clouds of depression were looming and the ability to reach within myself and create was the life raft that saved me" sort of way. Sophomore year of college, I'm looking at you. Not coincidentally, that's when I started writing again.

I guess once I got to college and forged ahead, I began to picture myself as a savvy graphic designer, working in some glass-walled swanky agency somewhere, living the life you see in the movies. A girl can dream, right? But I don't think that was to be my fate. I didn't get an internship anywhere impressive; I holed up for the summer at a miserable job with a screenprinting company that had three interns and no work to do. I almost changed my major that summer, with one year left to go. The professor monitoring the internships practically begged me not to; she was under some delusion that I was a good design student. Not surprisingly, she hadn't had me in class yet. Still, she was impressed by my writeups that I turned in... they got rather introspective and wordy, given that I didn't really have much to do, and had to pad it with my impressions and thoughts. (Here is where I have a "huh" moment while it sinks in that my love affair with writing and liking the sound of my (written) voice probably got me through that horrid internship affair and back on my feet. And won over the favor of at least one professor. Interesting).

Ironically enough, the company I work for now has a screenprinting division and I am neck-deep in the world of apparel and I... kind of love it. That internship, though miserable, actually gave me a bit of a head start in learning about that industry, and knocked me out of my "I want to be a kickass designer" mindset.

Though, to be fair, I did still want to be a kickass designer.

Which, unfortunately, required a bit more dedication and talent than I readily had at my disposal.

Long story short I'm working in an agency, like I wanted, but not as a designer, like I'd planned. But if I could have custom-tailored a job to fit all my random interests and idiosyncracies... I'm totally in it right now. I get to work with designers. I occasionally get to provide my insight on copy. My opinion counts. I get to micromanage. My anal-retentiveness and obsession with details are actually a huge asset. Working with vendors has slowly upped my ability to not be intimidated by the outside world (scary lady at the county treasurer's office? When I take my registration information in this time, you will not best me. I shall not leave feeling like an idiot again.) My insane work ethic which would in all likelihood have served me well anywhere, has made me extremely awesome at my job. I've worked my ass off over the last couple years, and right now, I find myself in the best possible position that I never would have dreamed of. I feel important and useful and I get to use both my right brain and my left brain.

Incidentally, my 3-year anniversary is on Thursday, which doesn't seem like that much time at all. I feel like I've been doing this for longer; it's been a very full three years. Not to sound cheesy, but I've truly grown a lot. And I'm not done. Not even close.

But, to circle back to my original point... I sometimes think about if I made the right choice, if doing the artsypants major was what I should have done... but that led me to here, and damn it, I'm actually truly happy for once, and so, yes. Yes, I do think I made all the right choices, took all the right forks in the road. Because I ended up here, and I like it here.

And I think this feeling of contentment and satisfaction is part of what is leading me to feel like, hey, I'm a motherfucking grownup (at least, um, of the class that still likes to swear like a sailor) and I can maybe stop second-guessing myself now. You waste a lot of time doing that... and I've got way too much shit to do to slow down right now.


Friday, April 1, 2011

If You'll Allow Me to Bask in My Own Vanity For a Moment...

I am pre-empting all other blog content to make a belated announcement that I have passed the -10lbs mark AND gotten my first related compliment today. YAY!!!

Also, one of my bosses complimented my hair today too... I think he just noticed that it was red. (He was quite amused when I said it had been this color since November.) Heh. Men.

This basically that confirms my theory that the people I work with really like my hair at this color, at this length. (The president of our company complimented my hair the first time I got it cut back to this length. It was pretty awesome.) I guess any ambivalence I was feeling toward my current 'do has pretty much disappeared - if people keep complimenting me, then the hell if I'm going to change anything. Yes, I know. I can be somewhat shallow sometimes. Whatever, everyone loves compliments. At least I do. They make me all warm and fuzzy on the inside and sometimes more emotional than they should because I am crazypants in the head and base a significant portion of my self-worth based on the opinions of others. I fully admit this.


I am starting to feel a lot better too, physically. I pulled on a pair of pants this morning that I vaguely recalled having some sort of issue with last time I wore them, but they fit perfectly today, so I couldn't remember what the deal was, other than that they had probably been a smidge too small before. I was also having an amazing hair day today too... I took the time to actually do something with it, which I've been largely too lazy to do lately. (Though I will say, I've gotten a ridiculous amount of compliments on the days where I roll out of bed and let it do its crazy curl-ish thing. Apparently I pull off the messy waves quite well. This amuses me.)

So, basically, I felt awesome today, and it was a much-needed boost of self-esteem, because even though I'm clearly a big fan of myself (hi, narcissistic blog!), my physical self-image has taken quite a beating lately.

One step (or, in this case, pound) at a time.

The Only Thing Worthwhile in this Post is a Link to a Healthy Pie Recipe

I want to blog, but unfortunately it's late and I'm sleepy.

So I will give you a link to the pie I mentioned in my previous post. (Hey, remember how I had a blog that I was posting my recipes on? Yeah. Forgot about that one. Remember my other blog where I'm supposed to be doing a bunch of things before I turn 30? Yeah. Not doing so hot on that one either. Although I think Vegas is on the list, and LESS THAN TWO MONTHS UNTIL BiSC! Whee!)

I will hopefully have something for you tomorrow. Regarding possibly Pilates + My Ab, the State of My Vehicle, or It's Really Annoying When Your Cat Decides to Take a Big Poo While You Are Stuck In Your Bathroom Doing Something Time-Consuming Like Straightening Your Hair. Also, I had my first coaches meeting for softball tonight, which makes me really excited for it to be summer. I can't believe this is going to be my sixth year of coaching... and probably somewhere around my twentieth year of playing softball. But when I think about it like that it makes me feel old. Also: I can ramble about softball for hours (as evidenced by previous posts I'm too lazy to link up right now) so I shan't keep typing.

Peace out, homeslices. Zzzzz.