Little Red Riding Hood meets Pretty in Blue

I think I’ve shared with you all before that my best ideas come to me when I’m driving or lying in bed at night. And I know by now that if I don’t do something right then to capture the words, they’ll be gone before I know it. Yet I never do.

So here’s yet another of my catch-up posts – probably not that entertaining and if you follow me on Twitter or FB none of this is new and you’ve already seen the pictures.

Remember that cute little Woodland Fairy costume I was hoping to wear for Halloween? Well it didn’t happen. First, I wore an awful pin-striped costume I picked up last year that I’d worn once before and somehow managed to forget that I hated. But then I got a brainstorm and for the Sinners & Saints party at Thunder Valley Casino, I became Little Red Sluttyhood. Or something like that. It was a truly fun night – to my surprise. I was sure it would be too crowded and I’d be too anxious which would lead to drinking too much and being sick or some such nonsense. But it was just a fun-filled night of dancing with a great friend. And it was the last time I went dancing, so maybe that explains some of my recent funk.

Icky pinstripe costume! But my fabulous fellow burlesque pals look fantastic!

Little Red Sluttyhood.

After that came my first job shadow night volunteering at Origin Coffee and Tea, which I covered in my post on Coffee, Tea and SexTrafficking. It did get better from there, by the way, until my first actual night on my own. I didn’t leave until 11:45 (the shift should have ended at 11) and I literally fell into my bad aching everywhere, on the verge of tears, and not sure if I could possibly make myself go back. But tonight I’ll go back again and I’ve been promised it will be better – plus hopefully my body will adjust.

The week of Thanksgiving was a roller coaster. I had a slight meltdown and cried and cried. That is a story for another day, unfortunately. Or for an anonymous blog. Which I am still really considering… But then I drove 9 hours to visit my mom in Idaho and we didn’t leave the house for 3 entire days and it was heaven.  She says I can quit my job and move back home with her. Some days it’s so very tempting.

I dragged my two girls out of the house to take photos for our Christmas cards, and didn’t realize that the tree was much too tall and the lights made the photos blurry, but we got some pictures anyway. I downloaded pictures of my son and daughter from Facebook since I rarely see them and didn’t have any decent pictures of my own.

Last weekend was my work Christmas party. That was a hard decision, since the fabulous Sizzling Sirens were having an invitation only show and I had a few other invites, and since I’m not dating for a bit I had to go to my party solo. But I went. I got my hair done, settled on one of the three dresses I’d bought (I spent a whopping $36 total for all three) put on my fab new blue heels, and off I went. I was excited because several of us were supposed to go dancing afterwards. The food was great, the conversation hysterical, we got an awesome gift and I felt pretty. Then everyone bailed on dancing. And I went home and took off my pretty dress, washed off my pretty make-up, and went to bed.  To wake up sick and spend most of the next three days home in bed. 

Pretty, and sad, in blue. Since everyone bailed on dancing. 

And that pretty much brings us current. 

Lasik, a boob job, and Hawaii - My Wish List

If you follow me on Twitter or are a FB friend or fan, you probably already know that Christmas is my least favorite holiday. And maybe you know how that came to be. I had a post on it once, but I think I got guilted into deleting it. I think I'll write another for Parent Society. I'll let you know. Anyway, that's not what THIS post is about.

For the past 16 years or so, every year has involved Christmas wish lists. Some years the kids wrote their own letters before I could even broach the subject; other years we all sat around the table doing Christmas crafts (hey now, don't laugh! I did actually used to be quite the crafting parent), coloring in a picture I'd printed from somewhere and writing in our lists. Sometimes we'd make a crazy, fun list first - all the things we wanted. But then we'd make more realistic lists. I would join in and try to set a good example by asking for inexpensive items, most of which were practical but also a few fun things. I'd also be sure to not ask for TOO many things.

We'd use a printable like this one from PrintActivities.com.
Color it in and write out our lists.

But I really like this one from SomewhatSimple.com

This year I'm not doing the wish list with the kids. I'm on such a tight budget that reading Hellion's list will just depress me further. She's 10 going on 17. She wants everything and none of it cheap.  She'll probably get some duct tape, a cutting board, and other craft type stuff. Pajamas, cuz that's a tradition! Phone case, iTunes gift card, stuff like that.  The other kids are 17, 19 and 19 (no, not twins). I guarantee I probably can't afford even one item on their wish lists. So it comes to down to that wonderful saying, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit." It won't be much, that's for sure.

So, no list making with the kids. It's my turn to make a list of what I really want. Why? Because the fun is in the imagining!

Oh Hawaii, how I've always longed to visit...

1. An all expense paid week in Hawaii. This would include paying for my time off work, because I don't have enough vacation time to actually take a week off from work and still be able to pay my bills. All food, drink, air travel, lodging, and recreational activities would be included. Although I don't know that I'd want to do much recreation - sitting on beach drinking and eating for a week would be good enough!
2. A new stereo for my car, including installation (because it's not like I could figure that out on my own). It doesn't have to be too fancy - I just want to plug my phone in and play my music through it. 
3. A bigger TV. Mine is 32in. So, pretty much anything bigger than that. LED, 1080p.  Of course then I'd also need a stand for the TV or a wall mounting kit.
4. A new bed. Queen sleigh bed would be awesome. Maybe tempurpedic - but really anything good quality. 
5. Home theater system so I can listen to music on something other than my laptop and for good quality sound while watching movies. 
6. Lasik surgery. For reals. I hate waking up and not being able to see anything. Or being in the shower squinting at my leg. Plus if I were to actually go to Hawaii I'd like to be able to buy and wear sunglasses without having to worry about contacts or prescriptions.
7. A boob job. This is MY list. Let me dream. Yes, I'd like a boob job. My tube sock/deflated balloon looking boobs could really use some help. This would also be good to have before the Hawaii trip.
8. Wardrobe overhaul! Tossing out everything I own and starting from scratch. Good quality clothing that fits well.
9. Wine, wine and more wine. Red. Cuz, duh!

A bed like this one - the headboard slants back, the footboard isn't too tall.
This one is from City Liquidators.

I think that pretty much sums up this year's wish list. What's on your list? And please don't give me any of that "I just want my kids to have a good Christmas" or "It's not about gifts" crap. This is a time for daydreaming - for the fun, outrageous, ridiculous.

By the way, I was attempting to put together a Gift Ideas board on Pinterest with fun and unusual gift ideas for those special people in your life. But life got busy, work got busy, so it's not quite as developed as I'd like. You can check it out anyway...

Coffee, Tea, and... Sex Trafficking?

So, one thing I know is this: a sure way to feel better about yourself and your life is to actually stop thinking so much about both and to do something for someone else. But I haven’t been putting that into practice lately. I’d occasionally search volunteer opportunities, but some required one or two full weeks of all day training. That was out. I couldn’t afford to miss that much of my paid job in order to volunteer! Many opportunities were for during my working hours. I’d offer to babysit for friends, have sleepovers for my daughter, leave Starbucks gift cards randomly around my office building, and figured I was at least doing small things for others, right? Yah, I know, not quite the same.

One night I walked past a coffee shop on my way to the bar next door. “...volunteer…” jumped out at me and I stopped to read the sign. Why would a coffee shop need volunteers? 

My interest was piqued, I did some research the next day and learned that this was not just another coffee shop hoping to make it against the odds. In their own words:

 “Like you, we hold the belief that people have priceless worth.  The fact that the average slave in the world today is sold for the equivalent of $90 is among our world’s greatest atrocities.  In the summer of 2009, Mark South approached Chad Salstrom with an idea.  A vision for once disconnected individuals in a fragmented city collaborating together, sacrificing from their freedom, to give the gift of freedom. Two years later, a growing community had rallied to open Origin Coffee, a place where everyone works for free to set victims free.”

 Please visit their webpage and read more about why they chose a coffee shop and how they’re empowering a movement of the people.

It still took me awhile to make the commitment. I’d forget about it for awhile, then go to Boneshakers or Little Ceasers and see the sign.  I’d look up the website and read again about the reason behind opening this business.  And in October I finally stopped reading and thinking and acted. I filled out my volunteer application! Last week I went to an orientation and watched a video on sex trafficking. I was sick to my stomach. All I could think of was my own beautiful 9-year-old daughter. Of my gorgeous 18- and 19-year-old daughters.  And then I thought of a young me searching for acceptance , attention, and love through sex and how easy it probably would have been to lure me into a life of prostitution if the “right” person had tried. “But for the grace of God…” is what my heart was screaming at me.

So I made my three month commitment: Thursday nights from 7:00 to 11:00 from December through February. I balked a little. I have several other things that occur on Thursday nights. I really wanted Monday or Wednesday nights! But there had to be a reason that was the only shift left that fit with my work schedule and the times I have Hellion.  I signed up for my three job shadow days. And I left excited about this new opportunity, about being part of something so much bigger than myself.

Last night was my first job shadow. I was so close to leaving five minutes before I was scheduled. I’d come up with a dozen plausible reasons for bailing. My anxiety was escalating quickly. Everyone behind the counter was young, laid back, at ease. I didn’t fit in! What was I thinking? No way could I spend four hours behind the counter actually interacting with people and being a cashier!  Somehow I stayed. And I can’t say it got any better over the next four hours.

Around 9:30 I was still feeling out of place, like I just didn’t belong. I was tired after a full day at my regular job. I wasn’t used to being on my feet for hours. I wanted a glass of wine, my fuzzy cozy pajamas, and my bed. I was wondering if they’d ever had someone show up for job shadowing and not come back. I felt like I was just standing around too much – I didn’t know what else to do, though, and I was already super anxious and didn’t want to interrupt conversations to ask.  I was really ready to make an excuse and go home. Maybe come back, but likely not.

Image from Aling Baby.

And then the words from orientation hit me. This is a totally sucky paraphrase but basically it was that I was sacrificing four hours of my life so that a slave could go free. Sacrifice. If it’s easy, it’s not much of a sacrifice. I was uncomfortable. I was feeling out of place, tired, a little afraid. For four hours in a safe warm inviting environment. What the hell was I complaining about? I thought about how those being traded for sex would probably long for just such an opportunity, of the emotional and physical abuse they were enduring, wondering how long they could hold on to hope. I read the dishwashing instructions on the wall and washed the dishes.  It wasn’t much, but it was something. It was a start. When I want to quit, when I'm tired and cranky and frustrated, I’ll remember that I’m the fortunate one and pray that my four hours each week are enough to help someone else get freedom for life.

I'm Not a Nice Person

I have a couple of friends who insist on analyzing pretty much everything I say and do. They seem to have a hard time just listening. Just being there.  And one of these friends then does pretty much the exact opposite in her own life.

It's not that rare, I know. It's so much easier to tell others why they do or say things and what would be better to do or say.  Tonight? I found myself analyzing someone. Okay, that makes it sound nice. What I was really doing was being a bitch. I'm REALLY good at that.

So here's the scenario. Reading through Facebook posts (Tweeties, hush now!) and I come across a complaint about working a 12 hour day, spending an hour cooking a meal from scratch, and the kids eating it all and being gone from the table before the mom could even sit down.  Of course everyone else commented on what a great mom this person was, pointing out things that might help her feel better:

• You're an awesome mom
• At least your kids ate it, my kids won't eat
• Sounds like you made something they liked
• Try doing this
• Try doing that

Then there's me: What you do is not cook from scratch after a 12 hour work day. 

~Magickal Graphics~

That was actually the nicer version of what I originally wrote, which went along the lines of "You're a sucker. Don't cook after a 12 hour work day - save it for days you don't work or at least work less hours." Along with some other variations.

Her response was that she enjoys cooking for her kids and only gets to do it every other week.

This is when my extreme bitchiness set in and my THOUGHTS (Edited: 10/26/12: I did not POST these thoughts on FB because I realize they were way out of line) went along the lines of, "You obviously posted this to get people to tell you what a great mom you are and that you're under appreciated. If you're going to bitch about spending an hour cooking after a 12 hour day and your kids eating without you, then don't cook. Maybe cook when you don't have them and freeze it so you can spend that hour doing something with them. Also? You made the decision to end your marriage, so it's your own fault you only have them every other week AND that you now have to work 12 hour days."

Yep, I was THAT bitch. And I shocked myself. Especially since it's not like I haven't posted similar things. Sometimes for exactly what I said above: I wanted/needed someone to tell me I was a good mom. But more often than not I just needed to vent, I needed to know someone else was feeling or had felt this way before, and I fully expected some sarcastic comments.  Also? I made the decision to leave my husband, and everything I'm going through right now? My own fault! So, yah, way worse than my aforementioned friends who at least didn't get that mean about things! (Or did but didn't verbalize it.)

Magickal Graphics

My most bitchy comments usually come from feeling inadequate and jealous. I do recognize this and try to curb it. And the person above? I've been battling my jealousy of her for years. She took my best friend, BGB. (If my best friend is reading this and trying to figure out why I've nicknamed her BGB,she just needs to think about the song she always says describes her.)  I knew in my heart that my best friend needed her - I'd moved 2.5 hours away when BGB needed a best friend the most. She helped bring BGB out of her shell, reminded her how to have fun, had her back at all times.  And all I could do was watch from afar. She's also in great shape, has fantastic boobs and is completely confident in herself. She goes after what she wants, stands up for what she believes in, and doesn't put up with any shit. Frankly, she's kind of a conceited and rude at times, but if she's your friend you'd better believe she's going to be there for you no matter what. AND she fricking cooks from scratch after a 12 hour work day? Wth? I don't cook from scratch on a day off. 

The moral of this story? Don't be my friend on Facebook and make sure your settings are for only Friends (not Friends of Friends). Otherwise? Expect sarcastic comments. Not bitchy, because I usually filter those out, but definitely sarcastic. And if you are my friend? I probably do actually like you - I just get jealous and cranky at times. Don't be afraid to call me on it. 

Bigtime Fail

I lost my own DietBet. I was the only one of the 8 of us to lose. I started with the best of intentions:  

1.   I would be committed.  
2. I would post at least weekly about my progress, along with any tips and recipes I came across.     
3. I’d link up with the Pish Posh challenge.   
4. I’d meet my goal.

And I didn’t do ANY of those things. 

Hoping to entice participants, I offered some prizes and winners would be entered into a drawing. I figured I’d meet my goal and at a minimum get my $40 back to spend towards prizes, plus two of the prizes would be donated.  Bigtime fail. I didn’t win and didn’t get the two donations (more my fault than the donators).  The failed DietBet wound up being slightly expensive. 

•   $40 buy-in        
• $25 JCPenney gift card (sorry @red_writinghood I STILL haven’t mailed this)       
•  $25 Victoria Secret gift card         
• Mary Kay mini fragrance set         
• Mary Kay pedicure set

But, on a more positive note, I took this picture towards the end of the game – as I headed out to my Burlesque 101 class. I think I look okay. Even if the pounds didn’t fall off, the skirt I bought at the beginning of the bet is now too big, so something was happening! So I’m okay with not meeting the goal in pounds.

Want to see more pictures? Check out my Facebook page. 

A special thanks goes to Redhot Writing Hood for participating AND helping get a few additional participants.

Interested in DietBet? Check out their website and join an open bet or host your own. It’s a great motivator and can be fun. I did win my first two bets but at this point think I’ll work on toning and not worry about the scale anymore!