Rachel: Contributing to Social Decline since 1984

Appreciating my dad. Even though he infuriates me.

My dad and I don't always get along. Honestly, since my age hit double digits, we spend more time arguing than any daughter would ever like to admit. However, no matter what we say or how much we yell and disagree, I will never question whether my dad cares. Ironically,the only reason we argue is because he cares and is desperate to protect me from life's failures and pain.

As I keep wishing for snow this year, I cannot help but to remember the snowstorm that hit when I was visiting my dad in Fredericksburg, VA. It wasn't even Fredericksburg, it was just outside that area. About 18 years ago, there was this crazy snowstorm that dumped feet, not inches on the area. I had happened to be visiting my dad for that weekend when it hit. Altogether, we weren't the prepared. I remember my dad worrying about having enough food in the house and deciding during the storm, we have to get food to eat from the Food Lion about a half mile away. It was snowing really hard and it was so deep, he couldn't back his small truck out.

Finally, my father comes to the conclusion that he's got to walk to the store in the snow. I want to go with him, even though he seems reluctant about that. (Look, I really like snow) For whatever reason, I'm allowed to come to the store with my dad. I remember walking for what seemed like forever, my short little legs struggling to match my dad's brisk pace. We picked up our usual wheat bread, cheddar cheese, spinach, and macaroni before heading back to the house. It felt like we were on an adventure.

That weekend, like many with my dad, we read CS Lewis books. We no doubt talked about random things and used our brains to creatively have fun. My dad probably made steamed spinach that we both ate and enjoyed. Perhaps we did watch a bit of television. I'm sure I got absorbed in reading by myself as I always would. Or watching the discovery channel. (I love documentaries!)

Unlike other weekends, I remember this one distinctively. Maybe because of the snow. I just know that whenever I feel like I couldn't be madder at my dad, I go back to this weekend and I suddenly feel love and compassion for him.

Sometimes when I think of how many dads are these days, I forget that mine is pretty special. He's there for one, unlike a big chunk of missing dads in this country. He'll risk me giving the silent treatment to him or not talking to him just to keep pushing me to succeed. Sometimes the pushing is irritating. Until I meet people who weren't "pushed" to meet expectations.

Today, sadly not everyday, I am appreciative of my dad.

Stop asking kids what they want to be when they grow up.

I'm just venting.. I'll be back to my silly self soon..

Seems to me there's like a .05% chance of it actually happening. Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to be a business woman. I have no artistic talent, I'm not attractive, and I can't do super genius things. What I am good at involves goal setting, cost cutting, financial projections, and making businesses better when I leave them than when I first arrived. I'm enthusiastic over every penny saved. Over every single inefficiency eliminated with minimal risk. Over every single improved statistic. Yet, I am still stuck in idle. Getting props for being helpful while others gobble up my creativity...

When I ask my son what he wants to be when he grows up, he says he wants to go to space (Star Wars influence) or be a ninja. I tell him, "you can do it!" Even with the knowledge that only the smallest percentage of geniuses can ever make it into space. At least in the past 40 years. I don't ever tell him that with the budget deficit the US is running, they will be hard pressed to have any space program at all. He needs his dreams. Something that propels him to do well in school, to make good choices, and to remember that he has a goal he's working for.

Now that I am all grown up and allowing my son to dream big, I am starting to wonder if dreams are a BS move to get kids to not do drugs and stuff. Really. I feel like Neil Patrick Harris in Glee when he tells the Glee kids they will never achieve their dreams. The problem is, I don't have Mr. Shu to sing "Dream on" with me then give me his part in a community play. Not to mention, I cannot sing or act. Also, NPH makes even being a bitter loser seem so much more awesome. On me, it's another fat person who's cranky... And who hasn't SEEN THAT before?

Waiting to see the wisdom in all this...

Wine, anyone?

Soundtrack to my life includes many revised Journey songs...

Yes, I am not posting daily (which is a major FAILy! HA!) but I promise it's for a good reason. My house desperately needs my attention. Can you believe it's December 9th and my Christmas tree ISN'T up yet? What up with that? So, I've been thinking, perhaps my woes can be best expressed through my interpretations of Journey songs. I have a few that I've run through my head, still debating on whether to send my ideas to Glee. (Yes, I know they did Journey - but this is a twist) Try my latest idea on for size, it's about the perfect Christmas home.

Don't Stop Obsessing (Don't Stop Believin')

I'm just a working girl, living in a smart-phone world... I took the Metro train and I late again.

He's just a nice husband, dealing with a crazy wife... He took his SUV to the live tree lot.

(chorus)

Don't stop, OBSESSING! You'll have that Martha Christmas yet!

Keep on cleaning! You're guests haven't arrived yet!

----

No? Not working for you?

Well, fine. How about my take on "Anyway you want it"? It's called "This is how I need it". It's about explaining what you need to a sales associate who's a little slow.

While I fix up the house and obsess over things, I missed how Barack Obama and his party got into a domestic dispute over the tax issue (insert HUGE eyeroll). Or how some Aaron guy slammed Sarah Palin's hunting. Oh give me a break. If you don't like Sarah Palin, don't watch her on TV or read her books. Good gracious. If it wasn't whining over Bristol on DWTS, it's crying over Sarah's TLC program. Please. If you have beef with the Palins and fame, perhaps you should also be really up in arms over the useless nitwits on the other reality shows. Palin is using fame for political agenda? REALLY? YOU'RE KIDDING??!?!?! Nothing like Barack Obama's pre-presidential BOOKS!

Sigh. It's not even about politics anymore. It's really not. I am just so sick of people whining.

In case you didn't get the memo, the only person with a "whine pass" is me. ;)

And that "whine pass" gets me NOWHERE.

 

Help! My husband is really tacky... And wants to pick out furniture.

 
Everyone has one. A husband who really wants to be involved in decorating your home. Whether it's for functional (I wants me a Lazyboy, honey) or recreational (I like silver...A LOT!) purposes, men can create havoc for our retro modern living rooms or french country bedrooms. In which case, it might be time to get creative.

Anthony likes dining room chairs with "arms" (help me, please). He also likes reclining everything. He also likes glass... Lots and lots of glass. Hi, Husband, I'm your SUPER clumsy wife, have we met? At this point, we agree on very little. Except maybe, price. It's a battlefield in our home threatening my clean minimalist approach for the living room. I haven't decided on the kitchen, but tacky 70's furniture is definitely out. I really wanted to go for a Gastro-Pub motif, but I am not so sure that's going to happen. What does a woman have to do to get her way these days?

Does equal opportunity mean equal decorating opportunity? Because if so? I, for one will personally accept an apron and bake from scratch to have my decorating dictatorship restored. However, I completely and totally support other women's right to choose the marital path that works for them. Dirty old recliners have no place in my home. Money is better spent on a Dyson in my opinion.

For now, my tactics are pretty clear. Buy as much furniture I can without the husband present then shower him with affection so he's sees that my happiness is his happiness. Should ugly furniture come through my door, he'll see what an angry wife gets him. Of course being the rational person I am, I will accept his ugly piece of errant furniture because I am a good person. Then, when he's at work, I will paint or reupholster it to fit my interior design WILL! Ha!

The Super Cute English Basement I Might Not Get...

So yesterday, Hawkins and I went to check out this lovely little (not really "little") basement apartment. It's this cute studio in Old Town Alexandria. I really want it.Recessed lighting, a dishwasher, and it's in my price range (at the top but in there). Problem? I don't have dep + rent to move in right away. I told the guy, I am still living with someone who expects me to pay rent this month, so can I move in mid-November? He's all like, no. I need someone now. :( (Which sucks because I had already mentally picked out my Christmas tree location)

 
(And yes, I Google'd it)

English basements are awesome because generally, they are in an old row home. Which means good location, built in charm, and sometimes serious space. The bad news? I cannot find someone to work with me on anything right now. Plans A,B and C all failed and I am in a rut. Rather than get too down about it, I am trying to be positive. I'll pray for it (not hope because hope seems useless) and maybe it will happen. If it doesn't, I will try again. I should be used to it by now.

Maybe, he'll call me back. But I have my doubts. However, I am looking close to work. One of my cars is going ASAP.

HOME ALONE 26: Rachel, am I going to regret going to work today? (Yup)

Anytime I have a day off and Anthony is at work, there's great concern. What is Rachel going to get into? Everyone seems soooo interested in what I am doing (probably for fear of property damage). Sure, there's a chance I might kidnap a squirrel and dress him in tiny armor, but I would call that a slight risk (big risk) at best. Leaving me at home with any sort of chocolate is likely a horrible idea, even worse if I have a lot of TV gluttony stored on my DVR. Adding sugar to my shenanigans usually results in me dyeing frosting red and making a "bloody eyeball cake". Or worse. When I am Home Alone, productivity is replaced with bizarre things I always wanted to do as a kid but wasn't allowed.

I am proud to state that I have been very well behaved today (even though it's a lie). Took out the trash. Hung out with my sheep and watched some SNL on Hulu. Also came up with own skit involving crazy neighbor impersonation. Was ideally behaved (ideal meaning WEIRD) and nothing unusual (I plead: OPPOSITE DAY!) at all about today:

The beer? So not mine! Marshmallows? Well, those are obviously the sheep's vice. I'm telling you, I was not involved with any of that madness at all (i was). I took out the trash (The beer bottles)! And, I didn't lay around the house *all* day today. I promise. Instead, I gave nature the front seat to my day:

Sir Nuts the Squirrel. I might take his dignity... but I'll never take... HIS FREEDOMM!!! Frankly, after week 5 of football, I think several teams could learn something from Sir Nuts. He's a brave soldier from the Roman era... He goes into battle boldly (and unwillingly because getting a good shot of him was really hard). What might have happened if the Dallas Cowboys were more like Sir Nuts? I'll tell you, they'd be really fast and camera shy. Probably winning them the game but making for a difficult highlight reel.

I must say, Sir Nuts truly did not understand the value of body armor today. It was up to me to persuade him. Fully expecting Peta to come running with pitchforks and what not...

Finally, Sir Nuts and I came to terms today. He realized I would not back down from getting my photo... And I found entertainment by going to Taco Bell and giving the day shift the business.

"You don't have unsweetened Iced Tea? Do you have anything that DOESN'T taste like sugar??"

"WTF, LADY! Diet soda still tastes like sugar! You trying to give me cancer you terrorist?!??!"

"I came here for fats and salts, not sugar. I'm totally okay with consuming an entire days worth of calories but don't you dare ask me to drink soda!"

I probably should get up and do something productive while Anthony is still at work. So to avoid the lecture that will undoubtedly follow and be well deserved. FYI, Rachel's day off is a lot lazier than Ferris'. There are no sports car drives to downtown Chicago but have no fear... A wild ride to Burke Taco Bell in a Dodge Neon is WAY cooler, right?

 

 

Furniture shopping again... Looks like I am still brainwashed by Ikea.

(Our 2008 Ikea starter furniture)

Sometimes I wonder if there's only one furniture store on the planet. Because it seems like other furniture stores sell only ugly crap at really high prices. Also, I am not one to go to Walmart and pay $200 for a crappy futon that will break in six months. Anymore. Yes, Walmart, you fooled me once but NEVER AGAIN! (Also, please look at Target and re-evaluate the state of your business) Ikea has brainwashed me into drinking their kool-aid (Lingonberry punch) and entices me with goodies (like retro modern furniture and chocolate). Now I don't want to shop anywhere else. Save for a few Craigslist finds that likely originated from... IKEA.

A little one dimensional am I? Please. I think other furniture stores are one dimensional. Remember 1994 when everyone and their mother had the SAME forest green plaid couch?

EW.

Or for 2000, it was all leather, all the time? How about how everyone seems to have the same ottoman with storage for blankets and trinkets... At least IKEA has the guts to sell a butt ugly, puke green couch and you'll like it or else! How about their names for products? Talk about creative! No clue on whether the products are ACTUALLY Swedish but they sure sound cool.

I totally spoke fluent Ikea today, by the way. Pam was looking at Ikea products to fit in her new apartment and I was totally, "try the Klippan series". Yeah. AND...I personally recommend the MALM series for the bedroom. It's very cute and timeless. Also beats the heck out of those THOUSAND pound sleigh beds. MALM has about 100 different mix and match options for your bedroom that will spark your marriage. By spark, I am talking about the shouty arguments while trying to put this stuff together. 

There's this chair, looks like a newer design that I want just because of the name... The KLAPPSTA. Can you imagine entertaining guests?

"This chair? It's imported. It's a Klappsta." (Except it DOES sound like a slang word for someone who's gotten the clap many times. Yeah, everyone knows at least one Klappsta.)

Not only will your guests like the slang quality of the name, but they'll be impressed. Unless they too are Ikea shoppers. Then it might be a little awkward that you are bragging about your $150 chair. It's like the person who brags about their brand new tires... Goodyear. Ikea's clever little wordplay is definitely funner than tires, so perhaps they'll let your cheap furniture brag go. After all, naming kitchen utensils "IDEALISK" is fricken genius. It's a wisk, it's ideal for cooking... It's IDEALISK.

Can I be adopted by IKEA?

 

My Stomach Has an Opinion. Tales from Bodily Function Shame.

 
Image (morbidobesity.com)← yes. really.

What's awesome about a morning staff meeting? NOTHING. I thought it would be nice, but in reality it was longer and more embarassing than I could ever imagine! Today's biggest participant was my stomach... I'm incredibly shocked at how many people managed to keep a straight face. It was the growl and gurgles heard 'round the world.

I'm just sitting there, mid board table, minding my own business and suddenly... "GRRROOOOWWWL". People are sending me awkward glances. It's as if I farted... And sadly, just as embarrassing. I hadn't eaten this morning because I was queasy from my medicine. You see, in afternoon meetings, my stomach is too busy to make loud noises because it's working on digesting a sandwich containing some sort of poultry. Of course, it is I who neglected to eat the alleged "most important meal" of the day.

Loud gurgles that I can only compare to the sound of water draining from a sink are interrupting speakers. I turn redder than a firetruck and do the guilty "head bow" that one does when you know you are the offender. Sorry but playing it cool wasn't an option given the decibels at which my stomach was protesting the meeting. Are you kidding me, stomach? One would think given the buffet of fat surrounding you, you could go a fricken hour without demanding food. Stomach was hearing none of that. Smirks are being suppressed from the back of the table to the executive front.

I considered my options very seriously for a moment. There's the fake cough, but that would be far too obvious... I tried writing loudly with little scribbles. That just drew attention to my doodles. Hey, I still listen, I just like to doodle. What of it? I took notes on everything as if my writing down that department "X" is "really busy" isn't totally lame. Who the f isn't busy? My seat neighbors were probably thinking, "great notes Captain Obvious".

Eventually I came to the conclusion that sitting in an odd hunchback position would suppress the noise. The idea was to push as much fat around my stomach as I could to stifle the noise. It worked. Sort of. Sitting and leaning at an angle that's too bizarre to be comfortable is a dead giveaway. I also looked like a pregnant woman about to deliver. Score is now Stomach 152, Rachel 0. You'd think after all these losing battles, I would understand that my stomach is the Saints and I am the Vikings... LOL.

Let's see if I manage to keep it together for 3 more hours of workday...

Apartment hunting in Northern Virginia... Ranks right up there with childbirth.

There comes a time in every Washingtonian's life that the infamous apartment hunt begins. It's this coming of age ritual where you go off into the wild concrete jungle to find an apartment that will save you an hour commute. Unlike many other major US cities, Washington DC's suburbs can be more expensive than the city itself. In fact, much of the surrounding suburbs are so affluent, you're considered poverty if you make less than 250K per year. For poor people like myself and my husband, we can only dream of the day we could afford something a little larger than a closet. However at the moment, it's becoming increasingly apparent, we need more room (We currently reside in half a closet). We work and live in Northern Virginia. Finding a place to live, at this point, ranks right up there with childbirth. It's painful, exciting, long, tedious, exhausting, and at the end, you get a prize. Except this prize doesn't need to be fed at 5am.

(This, unfortunately IS a bargain here. But also note... there are NO pics, most likely because it's UGLY.)

For starters, we live in 667 square feet of 1970's hell. There is no dishwasher, everything in our bathroom is miniature, and all the residents have been beaten with the "Major A-Hole" stick. This "bargain" is somewhere my husband and BFF brother have lived in for like 12 years. I think "bargain" is being too kind. Spending $1200 eating out for fear of dirtying dishes and a 1.5 hour commute one way, is NOT a bargain. At best it's a dorm that I am suffering through while Anthony finds a job. And I am PRAYING as often as I can remember to do it, that Anthony finds a new job soon. For the sanity of all involved. I'd like to move between Turkey Day and New Years. That gives us a couple of months to come to an agreement on what we are going to do. And more importantly, save as much money as possible. It might sound easy but guess what we are up against?

Don't you just love when special features of an apartment are "stove/oven", "air conditioning", and a living room? Because heaven forbid you pay nearly 2K a month and actually want to cook or watch television! This place is particularly swanky in that you also get a fridge! What passes for "luxury" around here and still costs a pretty $1800/mo penny is laughable at best.

Awesome! I just love how they feature the red, black and white bathroom for the Nascar fan in you. Notice the short stature of the refrigerator? Yeah, a full sized one and a real bathroom are going to cost you! Looks like my commute will be 30 minutes at best, because this girl cannot afford the "luxury" living that is Alexandria/Arlington. Given what a snob I am for having a full sized bathroom, I'm thinking I am back to square one. At the very least, the apartment above seems to have a dishwasher (though cut off in the pic). Which is more than I can say for my current living situation.

And the hunt continues.

A year later and I am still fat but learning from the experience.

A year ago I started this blog and no one read it. I wanted to be a voice for women who aren't supermodels but had super personalities and a take on everything. Today, people read my blog but I am sadly, not the voice of a generation. I think Barack Obama or Kanye took that title. I've learned alot though, some of it useless, some of it kind of awesome. Many of an adventure I have shared on this blog about my life as a fat and fabulous woman. I would like to share the BIG things (pun originally not intended but then I liked it so now it IS intended) I learned this year.

Maybe I am fat on purpose. Lets face it. Skinny women have it easy. When I was only a little overweight or even downright thin, things came to me without effort. Customer service was better when I was petite and I always seemed to have an extra hand when I needed it. That was 2007. In 2009-2010, the tables were turned so fast my head is still spinning. I get raised eyebrows at everything I do from purchasing a bra (isn't that band size a little small for your mammoth self?) to ordering a pretzel (like you need carbs, fatty!). The judgmental retail folk all have that look on their faces that reads, "WHO do you think you are, fatso"? When I was thinner, not only did I take it for granted, but I didn't treat big people respectfully enough. Not only that, but I didn't need to be extra friendly and good spirited because I was pretty and people sought me out. Being on the flip side, I realize that so many prejudices exist still and it's something we ALL need to work on. And yes, part of me hopes this curse is broken with this kinder, gentler me that developed. Despite learning to accept my size and being compassionate, I still want to be thin again.

The other big thing I learned was humility. I thought all I had to do was make enough money and I could have whatever my heart desired. Yes, it's true you have to earn what you have, but it's not just about making more money. It's about being able to manage what you do have and plan for even the worst of disasters when they come. It's about starting over again and again... and again... Because life sometimes has many "resets" and you just need to be able to take whatever life throws at you. So it's the 5th time in your adult life you have to redesign your entire life? Join the club! I moved to Houston and switched from apartment to apartment just to end up back in VA, sharing a tiny apartment with my husband and brother in law. The slice of Humble Pie I ate that day was HUGE. (Pun again intended)

The last thing I learned was family. With all the deaths (the first year anniversary for two major ones in fact) we had last year, it's important to make more time for loved ones and work less. And if you cannot work less, find little bits of quality time. You can't get the lost moments back because you had a TPS report and your boss thinks you should work later each day. (Um, yeeeeaaaaahhhhh those TPS reports..) Advocate for a better work-life balance. Who knows? You might start a trend.

Anyways... Enough mushy stuff. I learned some valuable lessons I can pray on and reflect on. Who hasn't? Do I think I am special or something?

Actually I do. But it's not because of the after-school special lessons I learned. It's because I discovered Nutella tastes great on EVERYTHING.

Seriously.

Don't roll your eyes. I'm like a river, only deep in sporadic places.