Smorgasbord

The check I made mention of in prior blog... ya, that happened today.

I won't go into the particulars of said check, but it was well-deserved if I may say so. I'm a hard worker people. No matter what they tell you.

A little background info: I work with a new team who also received big phat checks today.

After work, a celebratory dinner with the team commenced at a cool local upscale whole-in-the-wall restaurant. A total oxymoron but I don't know how else to describe it.

As we are sipping fine wine and devouring flatbread, I notice a bowl of M&M's in the middle of the table. Team member hands me a paper with the rules. Close your eyes, pick an M&M, and answer the question that is written in that M&M's color. This guy loves team-building exercises, as he calls it.

I pick an M&M, open my eyes, and scroll down the paper to my favorite flavor, orange. "What is unique about you?"

Me: "NOTHING! I swear I'm just like everyone else in this world"

Them: "No, no, that's not true. You are unique, you got this."

Um.. I don't need the pity.

Me: <long pause>

Me: "Ummmm.... I can do THIS with my tongue!"

I proceed to stick out my tongue and squeeze the life out of it until a triple wave prevails. Solid.

Them: "Oh WOW, yes that IS unique. I can't even do THAT. That is VERY unique..."

Ok, no need for the dramatic sarcasm team. It's the best I could come up with.

We continue to play the game, ahem team-building exercise, and follow the table around clockwise until it comes right back to me. I pick green. "What adversity have you overcome in your life?"

Thats deeeeep. Here I go.

Me: "Well, my mom kicked my father out for cheating and drugs while pregnant with my little sister, who died 4 years later, and all the while working a minimum wage job and living on food stamps. So, I'd pretty much say that...."

And then, all of a sudden, a dirt/hair particle of some sort decides its JUST the right time to plant itself into my eye which, while telling my sob story, causes me to frantically rub my eye resulting in my eye watering uncontrollably.

Them: "oh, I'm so sorry, that must be really hard for you to talk about, are you ok?.."

Me: "Oh no, I'm fine! No, really. I SWEAR. I just have something in my eye!"

I say it with so much emphasis that it sounds sarcastic and now they REALLY think I'm crying.

At this point, I can't recover so I continue on explaining that the adversity I had was the fact that I grew up without a father in my life. BIG DEAL, it happens all the time, I'm over it. Damn that particle!

This topic leads to a deeper conversation about how much, I wonder, does my family history affect my current relationship being that I didn't have a mother/father marriage to look up to growing up.

And then the relationship/marriage advice ensues:

Coworker #1, 38 yrs old, married for 18 years, 1 kid:
"Look, marriage is ALL about compromise. And don't have more than one kid."

Coworker #2, 55 yrs old, married for 30 yrs, 3 kids:
"I totally disagree, marriage is ALL about giving..."

Coworker #1: "Um.. ya, same thing. When you compromise, you are giving in."

Coworker #2: "No, not giving in, just giving. And you should have 3 kids. You know, there's an old saying about how kids affect you financially. 'The first kid is a dollar, the second is a hundred, and the third is a dollar.' "

Coworker #3, 45 yrs old, married for 15 years, 3 kids:
"You mean GIVING sex. Look, you should GIVE IN to sex 4 times per week. Now, THAT'S compromising."

My eyes widen. Are we really going there?

He continues, "haha, no, listen. The real answer is you have to be vulnerable towards one another. It's the only way."

Teammate #4, 62 yrs old, married for 35 years, 4 goody two-shoe kids:
"I disagree with all of you. The real key to a successful marriage is support. You must support each other no matter what. For example, if your baby is 6 months old and your husband wants to go on a weekend trip with his boys to catch a break, you have to support him in that... and you should have as many kids as you want, 20 even."

Um, that doesn't sound right and now my head hurts.

Up to this point, I wasn't too sure if I learned anything about relationships/marriage tonight.

In this smorgasbord of confusion, I think I found a bit of clarity in the end. Despite their differing views on marriage, they were all still married; no signs of divorce, past, present, or near future. Maybe no relationship is perfect and there is no specific way a relationship should be. Maybe everyone is different. Maybe there's no use in comparing other relationships to yours. What works for them may not work for yours. Yours is unique. Yours is yours.

Amen sista brotha.

Bits-N-Pieces

A few things going on in Auntie Kiki's head tonight:

I'm really trying to get around to watch the season finale of Glee on Hulu on my Macbook (I should get paid for advertising). I'm a mild gleek. 

I can't figure out - if I'm signed in and view my own blog, does that add to my profile views? I must say, I wish I hadn't discovered where to find the "profile view" because now I'm an avid viewer of the profile view. And it's quite depressing. 

I bite my nails. Ewww I know, but I'm typically an anxious person and it's a bad habit I formed long long ago. I recently heard that it takes 28 days to break a habit. Why didn't they just round to 30? Anyway, I'm giving it a shot. Today is day 2. I am on a roll.

Tomorrow a.m., I'm going to be given the biggest check I have ever received at one time. It will probably be the biggest check I get at one time for the rest of my life. So, I'm thinking of ways to cherish the moment. Should I frame it? No, then I can't cash it. Should I celebrate with a bunch of friends? No, cause then I'll end up covering the whole tab and, well, there goes that. How about brag blog about it? Ding ding ding ding!

For my Aunts 50th birthday, my family pitched in to send her to The Biggest Loser Resort in Utah! How cool is that? VERY cool. No, she's not going to be on TV unfortch. But now that she's going, I'm thinking I should go too... No really I should. You work out 7 hours a day, they teach you about nutrition daily, and you only eat 1200 calories a day. Sounds like hell actually, but I aint gettin any skinnier and Mr. Metabolism is riding pretty idle these days. 

I intend to request April 29th, 2011, off of work. It's a shame if you don't already know what magical event is taking place. Hello?! Its like, only the Royal Wedding, duh! I asked a couple girlfriends if they totally wanted to take off work/call in sick and they thought I was nuts. That was really weird. Also really weird is the fact that they are marrying on a Friday, but maybe that's the English way.

Do I really have to wait 2 MORE weeks to see Lady Gaga in concert? If there is anything about me that is childish, it's the little monster inside me. I resisted in the beginning, a lot. But in the end, you can't ignore talent. My boyfriend did me proud for our 3 year anni. Tickets to see Mother Monster. It's going to be epic.

Still Testing My Prescription Medication

Man. When I really put my mind to something, like deciding to start a blog and keep up with it, I really go full throttle.

NOT.

I'm a failure.

It's not like I have a million, or even a hundred.... heck, I don't even have 5 people following me yet, so really I shouldn't be bothered by this failure. But I am... because I don't want to let ME down.

I started this in hopes to gain some sanity, release some of these thoughts in my head, lessen tension, anything. I seriously think WAY too much, to the point of anxiety.

So I prescribed me Blogging.

But in the midst of it, I discovered that I can't really blog about the thoughts and feelings that really go on in my head. Well... I could, but most of it would be so controversial and I would get a lot of people judging or taking... The Other Side.

(Side note: If I call you to vent about something or, in most instances, someone, and I obviously sound really passionate about whatever it is that I'm venting about... do not REASON with me. There is no OTHER side. Take my side or Just Listen. K thanks, love you.)

The solution would probably be to start a completely anonymous blog so I could vent about all the little things and persons that drive me Up The Wall without having to worry about people I KNOW judging me for writing about them exploitively or about other things that really don't matter. Because their judgement just increases my anxiety and then my blogging prescription medication is useless.

But if I didn't know you, I could totally handle your judgements because.. well... I don't know you and thus don't care all too much about what you think about me! And because I have a Queen B*tch alter ego.

My sisters would probably argue its not an alter ego, but we're not here to discuss family issues. That's for my new anonymous blog. Jay kay.

So back to me lacking the skills to blog about important things and, instead, blog about cry-me-a-river issues and Oh woe is me my world is crashing down because <insert pathetically minute situation here>.

You'd think it'd matter to me that a giant Tsunami enveloped Japan.

Um.. wow, that sounds totally insensitive. That DOES matter, but am I going to choose to blog about it?

Ugh, now I'm starting to feel guilty for not blogging about it. But, then again, that would just be too depressing to read because it was such a horrible happening and it's not like I can rescue the Japs or give them billions of dollars to recover.

Is calling the Japanese "Japs" racist? If so, I do not mean it to be. It's just less words to type. Geez, stop judging.

Come to think of it, this blog is pretty depressing so I can't win.

What I meant by the Tsunami comment is when you're sitting at a light that just turned green and the moron in front of you isn't paying any attention and probably playing Words With Friends on his iPhone and you just want to scream profanities and shoot him the bird, you're not thinking "there are starving people in Africa!"

Oh no, this guy just ruined your whole day and gave you a crap load of crap to crap -I mean blog- about.

For the record, I do not shoot the bird. I'm a classy gal.

So, Blog World.. when do you get comfortable blogging about ANYTHING? I certainly do not want to offend any fellow friends or family with my opinions and ever-so-often angry rants, it might happen. But then again, this is supposed to be about ME, not you.

Maybe I should start by googling "blog etiquette".

You should know me

I mean that in an egotistical way.

Last Thursday is a prime example. I work for a professional corporation that VERY rarely has happy hours charged on the company card and even though everyone gets along, its not like we all hang out together on the weekends. But for the first time, we had a paid-for happy hour. It was So Much Fun. Especially when a few inappropriate things were said from that one co-worker you NEVER thought would go that far, but she did and oh it was the best.

I cracked a joke to my manager about missing work the next day due to said happy hour and I got the stink eye. Whoops.

The person sponsoring the event (aka the one with the credit card) must've thought I was like THE coolest person because he invited me and my dear friend who is also a co-worker to go to... The Capital Grille (!!!) after everyone left.  So.. The Capital Grille.. It's like the Ritz Carlton of restaurants. The food is both UHmazing and UHmazingly expensive. You feel like a princess at this place, but I could NEVER justify paying for food that expensive... because I'm a quarter Jewish and that totally explains why I'm so cheap.

It's not my fault. I was born this way (lady gaga). I grew up eating Micky D's or spaghetti every night. If we went to our grandparents for lunch or dinner and made our own plate, we were forced to eat everything on it. Our eyes were always bigger than our stomachs of course. I remember tossing food over my shoulder hoping it would make it over the fence behind me so my g'rents wouldn't notice. I don't think they ever did but if they had, I know they would've made me pick it up from the dirt and still eat it because they were cheap too and wasting food was a cardinal sin. So to this day, if food is in front of me I have to eat it no matter how full I am.. which also explains my weight issues.

I'm off on a tangent.

My point is... if you are a spoiled brat, a.k.a a regular attendee of Zee Capital Grille, you probably don't care to be me. But if you ate dirt when you were little, you wish you were me because sometime in my life I think I got hit with a lucky stick.

Such as when I went to:

Las Vegas. I went for my 21st birthday for 3 nights (I know I know, I sound like a spoiled brat already, but actually my best friend treated me to this trip). The very first night we were there, we run into a DIAMOND member of Caesars Palace!

What is a Diamond Member you ask? Imagine being filthy rich. So much so that you find throwing your money away to gambling no big deal, it's just a fun game. Every now and then you get lucky with a few bets and that keeps you coming back for more. Since you are basically paying all of the hotels bills, they decide to comp everything. EvERyTHING. Food, penthouse suite, any Vegas show, a personal chauffeur, agent, you name it. Thats a Diamond Member of Caesars Palace.

All this guy wanted was for us to get the most out of our trip. So what did he do for us? He gave us front row tickets to Celine Dion, paid for at least 3 gourmet meals, and (my favorite) treated us to an ENTIRE day at the Caesar Palace spa! I lied, that wasn't my favorite. My favorite was Celine Dion, by far. I idolize her, but have you ever met a guy who likes her? In fact, any guy I've ever known has expressed hatred towards her. I find that absolutely ridiculous but maybe I'm missing something. What's the beef against her?

So anyway, this guy had already experienced everything there is to do in LV and just wanted us too as well! He wanted nothing in return.

That only happens to people who are lucky.

If I remember correctly, his name was Scott Trabucco (or some variation) so if you happen to run into him, please let him know I'm ready for another trip to Las Vegas and thanks.

New York City. I went right after graduation this past December with a friend who also graduated with me and helped me get through college emotionally and saved me from going bald due to living a life of work, school, and no play. (quick break while I catch my breath) It was a much deserved trip to say the least.

A few highlights:

We met the mob boss.. whose name shall never escape my lips for fear of the mysterious deaths of everyone I love. Wait, does the mob kill mysteriously? I don't think so come to think of it. I think it's pretty obvious when they kill people. The issue is no one can ever find the mobsters who did it... No, no, that's not it either. The mob is so big and powerful that they have infiltrated the system so their always protected. I seriously never believed that the mob existed, until I met the mob boss. He's actually pretty cool.. besides the whole drugs and murdering stuff.

Later, we were hanging out at this random bar when a group of about ten filthy rich 50+ year old men walk in and start chattin it up with us. They were having their annual "guys night", how cute! Within an hour, they invite us to ride around NYC in their... white... stretch.... limo.... EXCURSION. "Yes please!" Totally harmless, you know, cause their old men. Well, needless to say, we rode the CRAP out of that limo and let them spoil us with drinks All Night Long. Easily in my top 10 best nights out.

The next night we went to Wollensky's Grille, which is quite comparable to Zee Capital Grille, but we had already anticipated getting the "hook up". You see at the time, I worked for a pompous @ss who happened to be from NY (surprised?) and he told me to "drop his name" when we go to this restaurant. I figured they would just take care of a few drinks.

Me: So I was told you know a Joe Schmoe (my best effort at name-dropping... not as subtle as I had hoped)

Irish bartender with thick accent: Joe Schmoe! That dick!

Me: .... (not surprised)

But I guess when the Irish call someone a "dick", its actually a term of endearment because I was Princess Kiki for the evening! I thought it odd when they wanted to escort us to the restroom... until they took us to the kitchen to meet all the cooks and the head chef where we were then asked to pick out our own desserts! Where do these people come from? They don't even know me, but yet I'm famous somehow...

Free drinks, free dessert, and unlimited compliments all night long. Thanks, Joe Schmoe. Sorry I quit working for you shortly after.

But if Wollensky's Grille did anything wrong that night, it was picking out our cab driver when we left the restaurant. In NY, you expect cab drivers to drive like a bat out of hell. But when he was thisclose to running someone over, we knew we were in trouble. Within 2 minutes of his irresponsible driving amidst dancing to techno and singing like he was auditioning for American Idol (did he forget we were in the car?), we hear sirens. Oh.. sirens had never sounded better. The cop pulls up next to us.

Cop: "Hey idiot! Stop driving like a maniac"

Cab driver: "Na na na na BOO BOO"

I'm not kidding.

That was enough for the cop to officially pull him over and rescue us! I resisted kissing the ground.. which was pretty easy after you've spent a day walking on the streets of NYC.

We chatted it up with the big cop and his little cop partner for a few when we find out that little cop partner dude went to school with my friends brother. For realz? Is the world really that small?

Next thing you know, we're riding around NYC in a cop car with the Sergeant of the NYPD Anti-Crime Unit. I know this because he gave me his business card and I just now pulled it out and typed it as I saw it. If I had known his full title then, I might've asked for an autograph. Too far?

Moving on.

You can't leave NYC without a fake designer purse. So the last day we were there, we run into a "vendor". NYC's not like it used to be when it comes to fake purses. Supposedly these days you can get in deep doodoo for selling fake purses, so now a lot of it is underground. But in this case, he had them all wrapped up in a ginormous blanket. I asked to see a few.

There it was. A real fake-Chanel purse! I had to have it! I would've paid top street dollar for this purse, but as it turned out I didn't have to.

I pick up Chanel purse and pull strap over my arm. I pull out money. I begin to bargain with legit vendor. Vendor looks nervous. Sirens begin to sound in the distance. Vendor freaks the freak out. Vendor ties blanket up and sprints away. I look down. Chanel purse is still cozy on my arm. I freak out in excitement. I start walking in opposite direction, fast. I get away with free real fake-Chanel purse. Mob boss kills vendor.

Luck I tell you! LUCK! And these examples are just the tip of the iceberg.

Although some of the above sounds a bit unsafe (like, oh I dont know, getting in a limo with strangers, riding with potentially corrupt cops, or even mentioning that I met the mob boss)...  remember I'm lucky so you are totally protected around me. And you will also have the time of your life.

So when should we hang out?

Get Rich or Die Trying

I'm on an invention kick. I often think about inventing something so unique in hopes to get rich quick and retire... Except that I can't actually think of anything worthwhile to invent. The worst thing about it is I spend so much time thinking about something that no one else has ever thought of when I think my real problem is that I'm thinking TOO much about it. I need to greatly simplify and dumbify.

For example...

The Shake Weight. Who woulda thunk?! I'm sure tons of people thought of this but also thought it was the dumbest thing a thought could think. Dr Seuss is my inspiration. But then there was that one person who thought it through to the end and lo and behold, he's rich. And probably retired already. That could've been me. I think most people buy it because they think its a great conversation-starter. I mean, c'mon. If you saw this thing at someone's house, you'd run straight for it to see if it actually works, and then spend at least a few minutes laughing about how ridiculous it is and maybe make a few obscene comments in between.

Ponzi-schemes. So basically I could've just told a bunch of people that trust me that they'll make tons of money as long as they keep finding more and more investors that will help "invest" in some sort of barely-marketable product. I could have totally gotten away with this 5 years ago. Bernie Madoff had to ruin it for the rest of us.

The Snuggie. No one knows this, but I am really the one that invented the idea of the snuggie... I've been wearing my sweaters on backwards forever! You know when you're wearing a totally cute shirt, but its kinda cold so rather then hiding your totally cute shirt you just pull your arms through the sweater and then you get the best of both worlds?? Ya.. I invented that. Unfortunately for me, I didn't patent my brilliant invention and now some other guy is getting all the credit in the form of money.

Then there was...

The Guy Who Simply Asked For A Million Dollars... And Got It. Did you hear about this? This guy posted several rants on YouTube begging for anyone who was a multi-millionaire/billionaire to give him just $1 million. A rich loony came along and was like "this guy kindly asked for $1 million, so heck I'm going to give it to him!" If I knew I could get $1 million by simply asking, I would've signed up for a YouTube account a long time ago. THAT could've been me.

I do have 2 ideas, but I think they are totally lame. But are they? The above's are pretty lame themselves but that didn't stop them. I probably wont pursue them and watch someone else get rich from it eventually.

So here I am. Inventionless.

Main Squeeze

I hope you weren't that excited to follow me on a journey through dieting self-discovery. Because that ended like SO 2 blogs ago.

I wish I had actually written 2 blogs since my diet rant cause then that would actually make sense.

But here I am... 4 fried oreos, a box of thin mint girl scout cookies, and quite a few "beverages" later.

A lot of good things have happened in the past few weeks though. Mainly I turned a quarter-century old and my main squeeze and I celebrated 3 dating years together.

I say dating because if I didn't, you might assume we were married. Seems lately that people are going back to the old-fashioned ways of meeting and marrying in a jiffy lube. My mom and dad got married 3 months after their first "hello". That went well (NOT... just in case you can't make out the sarcasm). A handful (more or less) of recent friends seem to be doing the same. I'm really rootin for you. Maybe they don't know the divorce rate is now at fitty percent? For the mathematically-challenged and those that don't understand ghetto lingo, that means either you or the person next to you will likely end in a divorce. Divorce is so not cool, so what's the harm in waiting to know for sure?

Ah forget it, I really have no room to talk cause I know when my day comes I'm so totally going to whip out the ol' "I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him". And if he had asked me in the first 3 months, I might have been blinded by infatuation and have actually said "yes" too. Just sayin.

It's only been a little over a week since the 3 year mark and apparently that also marks The Swarm of Marriage Questions. A week before, nothing. The day after, it was like BAM! questions here questions there questions EVERYWHERE. Oh and when we're being asked together, trust me, you'd like to be a fly on the wall because we both squirm.

But it's cuuuute.

Did you know we have 6 weddings to go to this year?! And that's just the first half of the year. Who knows who else is going to get engaged by the end of the year... another 6? I'm betting on it. Really its ok. I love me some weddings. But I think we're preparing ourselves for more of the same questions.



PS. I love you, main squeeze. I'll try not to blog too much about you. Although.. maybe there is stardom potential in this for you..?

South Beach Livin

I came into work on Wednesday and a co-worker says to me "Ok, we're starting the South Beach diet tomorrow, get ready!" as if I had already signed up for this shenanigans. No way jose'. There is not a day that goes by that I don't eat bread or some sort of dessert concoction. NOT A DAY. What could ever convince me to diet in a manner that would deprive me of the 2 things I love most in my body? (get your mind out of the gutter)

Then... I took a good hard look at my soft tush and tum and suddenly Jillian from The Biggest Loser was standing next to me, screaming at me to get off my lazy arse and do something before food consumes my life and I die from obesity!

In reality, I took it on as a challenge and it is now day 3 of dieting.

It's not going well. I mean, I'm eating the way I'm supposed to but I feel awful. I'm hungry All The Time. Even after a large healthy meal of protein and veggies, I am not satisfied, not even close. I feel like I'm dieing a slow death without my carbs. No wonder its called DIEting.

I almost cried when I got on the scale this morning at the gym and the numbers showed no reflection of my first 2 days of intensive dieting. All dat for dat?!?! How long is it going to take to see results?! It's going to be hard to stay motivated. I need to start seeing results ASAP!

I spent a pretty penny at the grocery store preparing for this craziness. Dieting really breaks the bank. Hey lets charge $6 for almonds. How about another $4 for a small bag of veggies that I can eat in one sitting?  Its kinda obvious why we have an obesity problem in America. Who wouldn't want to pay less for food that tastes better?

Gift cards to Publix: acceptable gifts for my birthday next week. Muchos gracias!

Negatives

• The same meals over.. and over
• Pinched nerves from exercising, its inevitable
• My chest shrinking - always the first to go
• Sugar withdrawals

Positive

• I'm learning to cook