Going Commando

Being low on quarters, it's been a couple weeks since I had a chance to do laundry. Hence, my stock of comfortable underwear (panties that will not give me a wedgie or bind my fattened buttocks) is dangerously low. Tuesday afternoon I found myself down to an old high-leg that's probably from my college years ... or the slightly-too-tight low-rise pair I bought 10 pounds ago (that's 10 pounds lighter, yo). I opted for the high-legs, but they were so loose and uncomfortable (and the elastic around the waist was so annoying) that I ended up removing them halfway through the night and going the rest of my work evening sans culottes.

The dilemma came up again yesterday afternoon. I eyed my last pair of wearable panties (the too-tights). I put them on and squirmed uncomfortable, trying to decide if I could get used to the binding. Then I remembered the night before, and the hours of wedgie-less comfort.

So I spend the day commando. Went to an afternoon meeting at the office, then to pub trivia, then back to work for my normal shift, with nothing between my cooch and the world except my double-lined work pants. And I loved it.

And that's my confession for the day, as well as my suggestion. Let your delicates be free from the annoyance of underwear. Strip off that nasty garment, and rejoice.

In other news, I stumbled upon this on Facebook. My friend posted it on another friend of hers' profile. These were my favorite Sesame Street characters when I was a kid. Enjoy.

Chrlorinated

So I went swimming-for-exercise again for the first time in almost two years this morning. Was so tempted to skip it — it was a stressful night at work, I was tired, yadda yadda — but I had my swimsuit and my hair tie this time, dammit. No excuses. I did pretty well; a full 20 minutes, and I felt like I could have done more but made myself stop so I wouldn't be pushing myself. (Too late, though: I felt all woozy and slightly nauseous in the locker room and the whole bus ride home. Until I got here and became ravenous and devoured a quarter of a jicama and some ranch dressing.)

Having Nick here this weekend only slightly disrupted my diet — impressive, because usually I'm completely off it when I'm around him. We made Sangria (low-carb with Splenda for me, real sugar for him), I baked him a honey-mustard Cornish game hen (derailed my diet a bit eating the skin off that sucker, too ... mm, honey mustard deliciousness), went to a barbecue where I managed to eat only Atkins-approved foods. Good thing I like asparagus and mushrooms and chicken. And now I'm thinking I want a Cornish game hen, too, but it'll need a day or two to defrost in the fridge, so I can't have it tonight. ;P Or right now. Boo.

Gotta think about next weekend. I'm working the Blues Festival with Nick's family and the lunch they give their volunteers involves a bean burrito and chips, candy and a soda. Probably not the best for my diet. I'll have to bring some cash and buy some real food. And then the family dinner afterwards ... perhaps I should pack a bag of beef jerky, just in case.

All this so I fit into my pants while I'm in New York. Really, I should be aiming to be completely hot for NY, so I can land a boyfriend out there, providing me an anchor to make The Move. I'm getting excited now, and kind of glad to have some sort of motivation from somewhere to get my ass in gear.

By the way, this week is starting out much better than last week. Busy stressful night aside. And this post is otherwise completely pointless. Just an excuse to write something.

American Grafitti [sic]

A couple pieces of "urban poetry art" down the street from my apartment that make me think, "Gee, maybe we shouldn't teach hoi polloi how to write."



A better question would be, "When does my spray paint spellcheck turn on?"



... yeah, I don't think there's going to be a wedding happening anytime soon. Sorry, hon.

And then, while checking my Flickr page yesterday, I came across this frightening piece of evidence that the English language is completely going to shite:



Please excuse the French, I like to make some things difficult on myself. Like Flickr.

I wonder if this nitpickyness is really me, or just the 4th day of the Atkins diet talking? Hmm.

In for a Grumpy Time

The Good:

So, I'm going to New York at the end of June. I've got my plane ticket, I've got my PTO approved, and also been approved to work a week on the graveyard shift while I'm out there (I fly in June 20, leave July 1, and work the week of the 22nd). Just need to get my hotel room ... which is going to be by far the most expensive portion of the trip. Thank heavens for credit cards.

This trip is important in a couple ways. 1) I need to escape the West Coast for a bit, and indulge my inner Big City Girl. I've been missing New York like crazy this year, especially after Geof spent a few days out there and kept rubbing it in via text message about every 3 hours (slight exaggeration). 2) It's getting time to decide: do I stay or do I go? I said that last year's trip was the one to help me decide if I was going to move back to NYC, but that's not what ended up happening. I spent too much time beforehand gallivanting in Maryland and Boston, and didn't really spend much time enjoying the city the week I was there, on account of work.

The plan this time: Get there on a Friday, spend the nights starting on Sunday working for a week, and then still have about four days to just wander around the city and try to place myself in it. Is it what will make me happy?

I think this year, the choice will be a more important one to make, because I've finally formed my niche in the SF office, and now have to decide if I want to stick with it, or start over (almost) afresh in NY. I still won't be able to move back east for probably a year — my finances dictate that much. But if I have a goal in sight, I can start pulling back and living cheaply here with the aim of affording the move ... or I can start putting myself out more and trying to find a stable relationship and enjoyable friendships here.

The Grumpy:

I spent the weekend a mess. I spent a lot of the weekend feeling empty and trying to distract myself with the Mom-Worship Day, but still ended up calling out sick both Sunday and Monday nights ... and I'm thinking most of the sick stems from the disappointment, but who knows? I was fighting something off late last week, so perhaps it just decided to rear its ugly head Sunday afternoon. Bastard.

Added bonus, this coincides with my decision to lose weight before I go to NY — I've gained about 10 pounds, and need my work pants to fit before I head out there, dammit. Which means I started Atkins again yesterday, which means I'm going to be a crabby, carb-craving bitch for another week or so before my body balances out. It also means much less alcohol than I've been drinking lately ... so I'm not going to be sedated as much anymore, either. Grrr ... miss wine already.

Let's Begin Now

Not sure what I created this blog for ... there's some vague idea rolling around my head to make this into a display of things I make and write. A way to prove to the world, and to myself, that I'm a creative person.

We'll see. At the moment, though, I'm mostly concerned with the blister on my middle finger (see it? haha ... I just flipped you off by showing you) and the fact that my "Tandoori Chicken" really isn't red enough. This bothers me.

At any rate, this may end up being the only entry ... or it could be the first in my vast Blogger Empire of entries. Time will tell.

Word.