I'd just like to say...

I feel sorry for my children and I haven't even had them yet. I mean, yes, I do plan on having them...someday. Of course that would require I actually go on a date and not treat it like some kind of social experiment. Actually, that would mean I go on a date, full stop. But that's a different subject for a different time.

The reason I sympathize with my as of yet hypothetical offspring is that approaching my 28th year, I have some low personal standards for myself. Some of these include the following:

• Freezer burn is a myth - if something can be heated up, then it's fine.
• Napkins, at times, are a totally acceptable substitute to toilet paper.
• Toilet paper, in turn, can substitute for kleenex.
• Mascara can last at least a year - more if it doesn't go totally solid.
  
• Leaving meat out overnight doesn't necessarily mean it needs to be thrown away.
• Wearing contacts too long in order to save money by having to buy less is brilliant.
• Not having a certain ingredient in a recipe doesn't preclude finding a substitute based on the fact that said substitute at least looks similar.
  
• 7-11 is a worthy stand-in for the actual grocery.
• Sweeping the most visible areas counts for sweeping the entire apartment.

Before I list anymore I have two caveats to this list. I a) was not raised like this - don't think badly of my mother; and b) actually live in a sanitary, clean environment - almost obsessively so, just maybe not using traditional methods.

So why the pity for future generations? Because, sometimes, I barely take care of myself (and Sugar). Cereal for dinner, ignoring chores for work, sleeping to the last possible second before work, etc. I have friends who are mothers and I totally respect them for all of the extra work it takes! I mean that's sacrifice. In turn, granted, you have the unconditional love of your kids and whatnot and that is truly valuable...agreed, but I feel like it requires one to operate in some Nancy Meyers-like film well the settings are gorgeous, the food organic, and the flowers fresh. Realistically, I am aware that it's not always like that, but just run with me here, eh?

The folks that lived in the apartment before me had a baby...a BABY! In this smallish one bedroom. I was amazed, needless to say. All I could think was, "Man, where would I put all of my shoes?" So, obviously, I'm not in that place yet, thank goodness! But I in fact applaud young parents everywhere for their tenacity and skill - go forth and multiply some more.

Me? I'm off to get out my some 4 month old package of frozen edamame and boil it until it's green again. Or maybe I had this package in the old apartment? Not sure...

The Wisdom of The Princess Bride

As Count Rugen said in this classic film, before being killed by everyone's favorite Inigo Montoya, "If you haven't got your health, then you haven't got anything."

So true.

Normally this blog doesn't get overly personal, but tonight, my friends is different. I've put on weight since moving to Chicago. A lot of weight...let's not sugarcoat anything. I finally, finally realized this an hour ago as I tried on dresses for our opening gala in a few weeks and nothing fit. And not in the girl way of just finding an excuse to buy something new...literally. nothing. fit.

This gain is due to a lot of factors: eating as a solution to stress; a lot of late nights; having two jobs, taking classes, being involved in the community, and moving - twice; going out with old friends and making new friends; eating on the cheap; McDonald's when it's convenient.

But I'm out of excuses. As well I should be - no more "I'll start eating healthy tomorrow," or "I'll get up early to work out," (when do I ever voluntarily wake up early?), or "I'll give myself a free day to eat whatever I want." Because obviously folks, that's not working.

And if you can't tell so far, I'm pretty angry at myself. At 27, I should be in great shape - instead my clothes don't fit and I have high cholesterol. Stupid, and I know that. In high school I was always worried about being heavier than my classmates, but now I would kill for that body!

So, done. That's it. No more excuses, no more putting it off, in short, no more bull s***. I've always been a strong, disciplined woman and there's no reason to stop now. If I've survived living on two continents, graduating with my masters at 24, moving across the country twice, and working for one of the best orchestras on earth, I can sure as hell put down the donut.

So while this is a battle cry to myself to eat healthy and work out, I am still cognizant of two things 1) I've said this stuff before to no avail and 2) In the morning light, everything could seem fine. But, I feel different - ready for the challenge and eager to prove myself wrong.

So if someone asks me if I'm going to hit up the salad bar, pound the pavement, hit the weights, or take my racquet to the courts, I'll say, "Tell them I'm coming, and hell's coming with me. " (See Tombstone)

I enjoy being a girl...sort of...sometimes

I've never been what one would call a girly girl. When I was little I had Barbies and Cabbage Patches. But instead of Barbie cooking in her Barbie Dreamhouse, she had to deal with a Dreamhouse break-in. When I received a Barbie campsite tent and accessories, well, unfortunately the campsite was mauled by a bear. I didn't carry them around, but my Sis and I did set up a Cabbage Patch hospital. I'm pretty sure I might have missed the point of dolls. Although I was very protective of my stuffed animals.

As I got older, it didn't get much better. I didn't wear make-up until later in high school and even then pretty much used what my mom handed down. When I did buy some, it was almost always in funky colors. When most girls were getting highlights in their hair, I dyed mine blond in the front and then had red and purple highlights in the rest of it. To this day I still don't have an overriding interest in hair and makeup. My hairspray, when I have any, usually goes bad before I can use it, I keep mascara way too long, and the thought of lipstick frightens me.

And still walking into an Ulta, or the like, makes me break out into a sweat. Who needs a $150 curling iron? And there had to be at least 10 kinds of straighteners...don't get be started on face cleaners. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I have no idea what 70% of that store is used for. And I still maintain eyelash curlers amount to about the same thing as a medieval torture device.

Now, don't get me wrong, I definitely have girly traits: a healthy obsession with shoes, a lifelong love of all things Jane Austen, and a strong devotion to Betsey Johnson. So when I was feeling kind of blue tonight, I thought, "Hey! I should pamper myself and see if that helps." So, I tried my new curling iron (only $13.99 thank you very much), but I'm convinced that my hair looked the same as it did before I tried to curl it. So I then painted my toenails bright blue, made a mess, and had to remove about half of what I put on. Anyone who's lived with me can attest to this sort of thing happening on a regular basis. I consider myself fairly smart but somehow nail polish confounds me.

So when pampering wasn't quite the success I thought it would be, I decided to turn to what I know best. I put on Mad Max for a healthy dose of violence and action and called it a night.

To which I say "Tant pis"

I will never be a genius in the kitchen...tant pis.

I will never pull off the demure, professional look...tant pis.

I will never have the patience to not visualize some people as voodoo dolls with pins in them...tant pis.

I will never stop yearning to visit places I haven't seen...tant pis.

I will never prefer the color pink - hot or not...tant pis.

I will never let society or the "norm" pressure me into something I don't want...tant pis.

I will never try to understand the fascination about twittering...tant pis.

I will never blindly accept the judgement of others...tant pis.

I will never stop being disappointed that most people don't write letters anymore...tant pis.

I will never get into the whole Wii thing...tant pis.

I will never break my habit of completely ignoring everything around me while I read...tant pis.

I will never be able to do my work without music or a movie or some sort of noise...tant pis.

I will never apologize for who I am or the choices I make...tant pis.

In which I discover that I am not that sentimental

This past weekend, I celebrated the bachelorette-ness of one of my former ND roommates who is set to be married this summer. I would like to point out that this is the second former roommate to be married in less than 365 days...oy vay! I am certainly thrilled for them both, however! Both girls are married/to be married to some of the best guys that I have ever met and each couple is made for each other. An ideal situation of the married state, n'est-ce pas?

Yet, at the same time a wave of nostalgia swept over me on Saturday between glasses of wine and the ridiculousness of bachelorette party games. Nostalgia for the days when I worried about grades instead of paychecks, what to eat at the dining hall instead of what to buy at the grocery, and walking across campus (15 minutes) to crossing the city (up to two hours).

Then after a minute of reminiscing I thought, who am I kidding? Hell no I don't want to be in college anymore...or even my early twenties for that matter. I'm over it like nobody's business. Gone are the days of group bathrooms, requisite swimming classes, blue books, and sweating it out during finals. Gone are the days of going to grad school full-time while working two jobs, accounting class at 9:30am, and internship applications (I still own about 200 manila envelopes if anyone needs any, by the way).

Instead I now have my own apartment, voluntary classes (vive le francais), income, and a cute chubby kitty. I have great clothes among which are a few designer labels, the freedom to choose the work that I love, and am well above the legal drinking age. As I say rather too frequently, totes awesome!

So as I look forward to my five year reunion at Notre Dame this weekend, I go with a readiness to see old friends, a fear of the mattresses in the boys dorm in which the Class of 2004 will be staying, and the happiness that while my years there made me the person I am today, I in no way feel the need to relive them over and over.

Now if I could just get those pesky student loans to go away.

Let's spread some Goodwill, shall we?

I'd like to take some time as we begin 2009 to remind everyone that while the new year is bright and shiny, everything that you buy doesn't have to be.

Last night I was chatting with a friend, and he mentioned that he had to peace out in order to get his NYE clothes at Goodwill. I thought that was absolutely brilliant. As my sis, the Goodwill Fashionista, would say - Goodwill has something for everyone. But this entry is not just a promotion of Goodwill, but rather one of the ideals that comes to mind when I think of them - the reuse of goods, instead of the waste of them.

Another friend was over for dinner last night and asked me what my decorating style was (first time she had seen the apartment), and I replied "Used." While I'm not sure that Home & Garden would qualify that as a style technically-speaking, in my case it's very true. My furniture comes from a variety of places: cheap antique shops, garage sales, family members, and in one case, off the side of the road. My pictures in my bedroom are all from Goodwill or garage sales. My flatware is from a CSO catering sale, and the rest of my kitchen stuff is mostly hard-bargained-for antiques. And somehow it all works - I love the way all of the eclectic items fit together. And honestly, nothing says a fantastic Saturday afternoon like a couple of hours at a good used bookstore.

And while I may be up on my soapbox right now, I have to admit - used is the way to go. Everytime I put on my bright orange velvet blazer from Goodill, I think, "Man, you can't find this kind of stuff anywhere else." Especially in a time of recession mixed in with environmental concerns, shopping used is a great way to "Reuse, Reduce, Recycle." Admittedly, buying organic and/or natural can be difficult when one is on a budget, but next time you think of purchasing, make the treck to your local thrift shop and see what magic can happen. I started doing this back in high school and bought both my homecoming dresses for only $10 each.

As the infamous Coco Chanel once said, "Fashion is not something that exists in dresses only. Fashion is in the sky, in the street, fashion has to do with ideas, the way we live, what is happening." So consider the way we live next time you shop.

Note to Self

Ugh, so I've actually accomplished two of my other goals, but not had the time to download super-fun pictures, so those blog posts will have to wait.

BUT, on this beautiful Friday, I want to share something hilarious with you all. I really heart old Hollywood and especially Fred Astaire - no one today has class or talent like that.

So, in a fusion of old-school and new school, I present to you this pretty sweet youtube clip.

Note to Self: Fred Astaire is awesome...totes.

Note to Self

This phrase, "Note to Self" - I use it often. It's sort of my thing. I adamently refuse to use trendy business terms like "let's circle back" and "I'll keep that on my radar." So, instead, quite a while ago, I decided to use "Note to Self." It's good times, I like it. And I have now decided to use my phrase as a theme for occasional blogs. It will be like you'll reading my internal memos - sort of. So, anyway, to commence:

Note to Self:

-Don't dance in the hallway of your apartment when there is a risk that your cat could trip you and you could then slam into bathroom doorframe

-Finding a $20 on the sidewalk is just as cool at 26 as it was at 16

-Don't sit next to the crazy guy spouting Bible verses no matter how tired you are, or how inviting the empty seat looks on the bus...there is a reason it's the only one left

-Watching old episodes of Gossip Girl is not acceptable - no matter how bored you are (don't judge)

-Conjugating French verbs is just as hard at 26 as it was at 16

-Sometimes VH1 gets it right with "Emerging Artists," so stop whining everytime a "female singer-songwriter" comes on - remember the amazingness of Duffy - eventually they'll be another one just like her

-Parties in huge apartments overlooking Lake Michigan - go to more of them - they're awesome