Almost there ...

I can almost smell the ocean air. I swear to you, I'm not bragging. I have earned this vacation. And if I could, I would pack each and every one of you with me in my carry-on! It would be just one big party.

One day, my lovely peeps, one day. Except not in my carry-on. That would just be weird.

9/30/06: Bye everybody, see you online in about a week! Aloha!!! PS: It's 7:35pm and I still haven't packed. Procastinators of the world - unite!!!

Four more days until ...

HAPPY BIRFDAY, SISSER!!

(Lucky for both of us, I have no soft copies of our childhood pictures!)

Demondoll's birthday is today. She is my best friend. When I was little, she was the "fun one" in the family. Unlike most older sisters, she took me almost everywhere she went. She was maternal way before she had a baby. Of course, I have to tell you about just how feisty my sister is to celebrate the day of her birth.

When I was five or six, I was the smallest kid in my class. I might as well have worn a "Kick Me" sign on my back. The second smallest girl, of course, felt the need to pick on me. More than twenty years later, I still remember her name. It was Valerie.

Maybe it was a week but it felt like months. Every day I would come home and tell Sister how she would pick on me. Valerie turned my friends against me, said mean things to me and behind my back, took things from my desk and hid them, and once, had the nerve to push me. I remember when I came home and told Sister about that. I think after hearing story after story about Valerie, my Sister thought enough was enough. She gave me "tough love." Sister basically told me that I better stand up for myself. Yes, mom said she would punish me if I got into trouble. But so what? "You had better shove her back if she shoves you or I don't want to hear it anymore" Sister said. I didn't know what to think. I was five years old and my Sister was telling me to go again what Mommy said. After she gave me a-talkin'-to, Sister gave me a hug, told me that she loved me and she just doesn't want someone to keep being mean to her little sister.

I don't remember the details. But Sister told me that the next day, Valerie pushed me again. Keeping in mind my sister's advice, I pushed Valerie back. Hard. And she fell back. In a puddle. In her faux fur white coat. That's what she gets for wearing a tacky article of clothing. My teachers told my mom who scolded me when I got home. Again, I don't remember the details but I'm betting that my Sister gave me a big hug and either took me to the movies or bought me an accessory for my Barbie to let me know I done good.

Over twenty years later, Sister still gives pretty great advice. And she is a very very cool Sister. She is loving, sweet and wonderful. But she also knows when to whoop some ass.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISTER!!!!

Crotchless panties or spa treatment?

I know, it depends on the gal. But I know my friend and she digs spa treatments more than lingerie. (I'm not knocking it, I'm just sayin'.) We are leaving for Oahu next week for her wedding and, as a bridesmaid, it's one of my duties to make sure she's relaxed. So off we went to Burke Williams!

Today I took her for an awesome pedicure -
"Foot Fantasy - We soak your hands and feet in a special blend of essential oils. Your feet and calves, hands and forearms are cleansed and exfoliated. Then, your tired muscles are gently but firmly massaged, again. Finally, your nails are trimmed, shaped and polished."

While this place doesn't give the best massages, they have plenty of space to lounge around - a quiet room with comfy recliners, a big jacuzzi, and an area that looks like a living room. It's closest thing I've seen in the Bay Area to the wonderful spas in Las Vegas.

We went to Burke Williams bright and early this morning. It was soooo nice. There weren't as many people around so it was very peaceful. In the Manicure/Pedicure Room, there were only three pedicure chairs in the room and, because it was early, my friend and I were the only one clients. What was different from most nail salons is that the pedicurists didn't talk to each other. They were quiet. And that was just wonderful. My friend and I relaxed in peace as our ladies loved our poor feet.

Anyhow, I don't remember her name but my woman was wonderful. (How very man-ish of me.) She gave an awesome foot massage - the kind that makes your feet tingle even after she's done with the massage. And my friend had a great pedicure, too! We were very happy gals when we left. My gift to her before she goes to Hawaii and gets hitched. I like these kind of gifts.

A tribute to this season's Dancing with the Stars

I admit that I don't take the time to watch this show. But I do know who the "celebrities" (rabbit ears fingers motion) are this season. Blogs aren't meant to have reruns but c'mon, this was an oldie but goodie:

HEY, is that SLATER?

I am so EXCITED!!!

The season premiere of Grey's Anatomy is tonight!!!
I love, love, LOVE this show.
With that said, it better not pull a "Desperate Housewives" and stink to high heaven in its the third season.

And know what else is really cool? Well, I took The Man to Monterey this past weekend for his birthday. It was freakin' expensive (and I mean, expensive) but he's worth it. The poor dude has been working 21 days straight. I think he was grateful for the little break. Also, knowing what a broke gal I am, he was truly appreciate of my efforts. So, being the cool guy he is, he surprised me a couple days later with this ..


Sweeeeeeeeeeeet.

Thank goodness it's almost Fall

Knitting* in 80+ degree weather is NOT cozy. It is hot and causes me to have sweaty hands. Ew.

But it was all worth it because ...

Here is a Summer purse:

(A gift for a lucky someone!)

And a scarf when it finally becomes cold. I love the Fall colors.

(It's only half way done. These freakin' reversible cables take for-ever.)

*This is what I do when The Man and I relax and watch 24. Which, by the way, I swear was written by someone who HATES women. The female characters are all helpless and make stupid decisions which annoys me. They make me yell at the TV and I actually wish them death so they are written off the show. My behavior is completely out of my control. The Man is used to my outbursts. Plus, he hates President Palmer's ex-wife. I hear, however, that in Season 2 the women are FIERCE. I am so excited.

I love you, I hate you

I entered University the fall of 1996.
I did not drink, smoke or do drugs.
Boring little chickie, wasn't I?
Some thought it started because of the guy I was dating.
Others thought it was the friends I kept that influenced me.
But the truth of my sin began with a children's play. Truly!
I auditioned for a Japanese children's play (No, you didn't have to be Japanese and no, I don't remember the name!) My professor, Edgardo, asked me to audition and next thing I knew, I was a sea urchin. Now that I think about it, all three of us sea urchins were about the same height. That's probably why he asked me.
There were many, many rehearsals. And I was always stuck in the green room with the chatterbug and the mom who was sweet enough but her toddler must have been Rosemary's baby. I HATED waiting for rehearsals. Finally, I went outside with the smokers and just dealt with the cold weather and the hideous smoke.
I had tried smoking a couple of times before earlier that year and ended up coughing, choking and turning rouge (I'm a brown girl - I don't turn red, I turn rouge.) But it only took a week for these smokers to realize I was not smoking.
"Why are you out here?" one asked.
I couldn't very well tell him that his non-smoker friends bored the hell out of me and I'd rather inhale secondhand smoke than listen to the girl that was trying to convince me (and herself) the benefits of declaring a major in Theatre and if I wasn't sure Speech Comm was for me that, without a doubt, I should change it to Theatre. (Before I get the beat down, I know nothing is wrong with that major. In fact, my dear Sister had that major which made sense because she is an actor. However, you try listening to ANYONE trying to convince you for days on end that the major she chose is the best and can be utilized in any profession.) And I won't even go into how listening to a spoiled child throwing tantrums is enough to make anyone want to stab her eye with a pencil. Plus, all these actors were friends and I think I was the only non-theatre major in this play. I couldn't ruffle any feathers. So what did I do? I lied.
"I don't have a cigarette." I replied.
My fellow urchin and only real friend present said, "Oh, why didn't you tell me? Have one of mine." And even packs the little cig for me, bless her heart.
Since I tried it before, I knew how to light a cigarette without looking like a dork. I just didn't know if I could smoke it without looking like an ass.
Somehow, I did it. And so begun the five year love affair ...

Me from 1997-2002 "I love you, I love you, I love you!"

I don't regret my time with these smokes (excluding any future bouts with cancer.) They carried me through dorm life, excruciating exams and papers, a six month break up, many a rough bar and clubbing nights, and a job from hell. They were sometimes an icebreaker, sometimes a friend maker, often times a stress reliever and always a crutch.
I knew I wasn't addicted (everyone says that, right?) But really, I wasn't because there is only one thing that I thought was addicting to me (an entirely different post altogether.) I knew this cigarette thing was like my ex boyfriend - "it's gotsta go!"
A series of events helped me quit. When my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, I knew I was being stupid by smoking because I was pretty much begging for lung cancer. Shortly after, I started grad school and, surprisingly, barely any of my friends or classmates smoked so there was none of that fun socializing that I enjoyed with my smoke. And then I started dating The Man who met me as a smoker but really really wanted me to quit. Oh, and then I needed to go on BC and was warned by my doctor that I would be more likely to get cancer if I mixed the two.
Well, son of a biscuit. If those all weren't all not-so-subtle hints smacking me upside the head, I don't know what you would have call them.
So there you have it. I am now one of those "non-smokers" that I used to hate. Why? Because I say "HELL YA!" when it comes to increasing the tax on cigarettes. I could give a hoot if it's $10/pack and all the money goes to hospitals or whatever else that lame ad says. Again, I say "HELL YA!!!!" And I hate, HATE, the smell of cigarette smoke. I will take cigar or pot smoke any day over cigarette. My clothes and hair soak it like a sponge and why should I smell like an ashtray when I didn't even get to enjoy the cigarette myself???? "Get the f*ck away from me, smoker!" Which leads me to "Hell-mutha-f*ckin'-yah you should be at least 20 feet away from the building!" You leave your butts everywhere (EXCEPT for you few courteous smokers who bother to walk around until you find an ashtray or garbage can) and your smoke still goes into any open door, window or vent near you.
Told you. I am the former smoker that present smokers hate. Of course, I don't ever say these things OUTLOUD to smokers (I used to be one, I know how edgy and balls out they can be) but that doesn't mean I'm not thinking it.
Again, I say tax the muthaf*ckin' packs. Maybe then minorities and the low-income population wouldn't be the ones targeted by tobacco companies. But I won't even get started on that.

J to the O to the B

I didn't know what I should write. But I can't be a hypocrite because I hate, HATE, it when y'all don't update your blogs. (You're my entertainment, dam-mit.)

I decided to write about something that I usually stay away from (so as to avoid any outcome similar to Dooce's.) But it is what I do for 9-10 hours of my day - WORK.

What am I?
A staffing manager.

What does that mean?
Marketing, recruitment, and sales of temporary, temporary-to-permanent, and direct hire staffing.

What does that really mean?!
This is the MOST interaction I've had with the greatest amount of people on a daily basis. In all my other jobs, I've always worked with people (unlike, say, a data entry position which I had and only lasted three weeks before I quit.) But it was usually the same people with a handful of new folks that I would meet from time to time. At my job now, between recruits and companies, I meet (or at least, talk with) a large group of people every single work day on top of the colleagues I work with daily.

I love to talk. But the energy it takes to be "on" all the time can thoroughly exhaust a person. And it's not like I can take a break because there are goals I have to obtain daily, weekly and quarterly. For the most part, I've adapted. The job, above all, has taught me to how to maximize the most out of my time (and there still isn't enough hours in a work day!) This job is about goals, money, and tons of interpersonal communication.

Obviously, I'm not shy. I definitely have "bashful tendencies" but I would still describe myself as an outgoing person. After all, I am Miss Comm. Major! But even I am often out of my comfort zone when I'm at work. I truly wonder how anyone shy could do this job when even I feel awkward at times. I came into it having no background in sales but I have been wanting to try sales for a long time. If anything, just for the experience because I think it's necessary in order to be a good business woman.

But, as I mentioned before, I am spent when I get home. I hardly talk to family or friends. I found that the best thing for me to do is sit on the couch with The Man and watch episodes of "24" while I knit. The Man, not being much of a talker himself and also dealing with a great amount of stress at work, has found comfort in our routine. We may sound 50 years old but WE ARE HAPPY.

Does it sound like I don't like my job? That's not the case. It's certainly challenging, though, because it's something brand new to me. And, without sounding like an ass, I'm used to being one of the best. Not necessarily #1 but definitely on fire. And here I am, this rookie, working with colleagues who hit their goals and bring in the dough. Of course, I knew this coming into the job. In fact, it's why I took it.

When I was in college, I realized that the best way to kick ass in my classes was to surround myself with people better than me. Not only were most of them naturally brilliant and had a great work/study ethic but they made me do my best so that we were equal. F*ck that, I wasn't going to be the stupid one in the group. So I adapted the same philosophy when I looked for a new career. I wanted to be part of a group that rocked because I would get better faster.

The problem is that when you have that competitive nature (like me,) even when you just want to be equal and not necessary the best (like me,) you tend to come down on yourself hard when you don't progress as fast as you would like (like me.) Right now, I wish I was doing better. So I've made it a vow to work longer hours, even if it's just an hour more a day and a couple of hours more once a week. Why? Because after talking to a few people who are ranked the best in the company internationally, all of them said being successful can't be done within 8:00 am - 5:00 pm.

"But what about the Work/Life Balance I was promised?" I cried in my head.

Well, I weighed my options. I could do OK and work the standard 8 to 5. Or I could just put in a little more time. Considering that many of my friends who are in Sales have to travel and work weekends, working one more hour a day isn't all that bad. Plus, I already don't want to talk when I get home so what's one more hour at work?

I have a goal to make a certain amount of money by the time I'm 30 years old. And as long as my relationships with my family, boyfriend and friends remain in tact, I'm willing to work myself a little harder to get there. Is it my forever job? I don't know. But I've also made a promise to myself to give it at least two years.

Plus, a gal can still dream of being the traffic reporter in Hawaii.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE MAN

The Man is 29 years old today. This is the fourth birthday of his we've celebrated together.

For some reason, we have made it a tradition of celebrating the day of his birth with a big meaty meal. I'm talking some serious meat. Last year, we were in Washington and my Sister and WGD took us to a BBQ place. This year, we went to Cattlemens and he had a steak bigger than his face.

No, really. It was.

Even though he makes it a point to NOT read my blog (thanks, hon!) I feel that I should honor him because he's such an important part of my life.

This Man has become my best friend. He is so sweet, kind, and very, very funny! I feel privileged because I know most of the world sees him as this quiet, shy and reserved guy. But with me, he's super funny and talks a lot! He is also hot tempered, passionate, and very, very talented. (But he's a bit like Snuffleupagus - people don't believe me when I describe him to be this way, especially his temper! Like it's a figment of my imagination. How he has you all fooled!) 9/2/06 Addendum: I forgot to add that he is extraordinarily handsome AND goofy. I love that about him. He's one of those "late bloomers" so he's this mix of gorgeous and nerd. He probably wouldn't appreciate that description but he knows I'm right. Sure, The Man has some idea that he's attractive. But his first 17 years of dorkiness keeps him grounded. Suave, he is not. And I love that! He is my Clark Kent.

This Man of mine is a genuinely GOOD person. He is generous, caring, and chivalrous. He would do anything for his family and friends. He still opens the car door for me. He insists on going outside with his Samurai sword when he hears something suspicious (don't ask.) There is no such thing as a perfect person but he is perfect for ME. I am so blessed and thankful that he is in my life. I love The Man with all my heart!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!