Trish

There's something I just crave about a song with great lyrics. They stay with me long after the music isn't in vogue anymore or after I've quit playing it in constant rotation on my iPod. Sad songs have the best lyrics, hands down... There's something raw and powerful about expressing yourself when you feel like you've got nothing left to give, and I think that is what attracts me most. The raw emotion. I know I've written some of my best work when I've been at my lowest moments. Of course, I love any form of intense writing, but when great lyrics are paired with powerful music or a great voice... my god. I LOVE it. I can't suppress my melancholy inner child to save my life.

I have a bunch of favorites, of course, but lately I am loving Rosie Thomas. Some of her lyrics are flat-out haunting, and her voice just bleeds raw emotion. The first time I heard a couple of her songs I was just floored (and a mess of tears, too). I'll leave you with this one:

***
Death Came and Got Me
by Rosie Thomas

I can't
I can't stop crying
Every day i'm so afraid of dying

But death already came and got me
'Cuz i'm not living
I'm not living anyway

And who am I supposed to be? Everybody seems to see except for me
Who cares anyway?
Cuz when it's over it's all over
And what you gained you throw away

When will love ever find me? All my life all I have craved is to be seen
Who cares anyway? Cuz when it's over all that matters is the love you gave away

Last week I traveled back to Las Vegas for the furniture market, where I had mild to moderate hopes of increasing my business. The economy is really affecting the home furnishings industry, and it’s been pretty tough to get those peeps to commit to anything long-term. Thankfully, I have a few regulars now and they are happy with my work, so that makes me feel better. By the end of market though, I was very pleasantly surprised at how well the week went, and I have lots of good prospects to follow up on in the coming weeks. Hooray!

I shared a booth in the resource center with my good friend Joe, ‘cuz we work well together and help each other out with people who come by the booth. I know his business really well, and he is one of my clients now, so we talk each other up. Plus, it’s really nice to be at a show with a good friend. It can get REALLY boring during the slow times, and it’s nice to have someone to go to dinner with, too. I don’t know how Joe works some 25 shows a year… yikes. Joey picked me up at the airport on Sunday, and we go get our booth ready for the show start on Monday. After that, I got settled in my room at South Point and took a little nap (I was a little foul at that point since I had been up since 4 am). South Point is a pretty nice hotel a few miles off the strip… I mean, it is not up to my usual diva standards, but I’m on a bus driver’s budget right now so I liked the $53/night price. I’m hoping to be rich by September so I can stay at the Signature or the Palazzo! We’ll see.

Anyway, Joe and I went to dinner that night at Roy’s, this Hawaiian fusion restaurant that has become one of my new favorite places to eat. Oh my god, the Lakanilau roll is to die for (it’s a crab, avocado and asparagus roll with strips of kobe beef on the top). Not to mention the calamari or the butterfish… dear god in heaven. My diet went out the freakin’ window. Actually, I did pretty good during the day, but for dinner, I was like, “Bring on the good eats! With a side of butter! Pronto!” (I have paid for this indulgence by gaining back two pounds. Dammit.)

After dinner, with my belly happier than it has been since, oh, the last time I ate at Roy’s in January, we get in the car to go back to the hotel. Joe says he needs to stop at a gas station to fuel up for the week. So we pull into a station, he pumps gas, then goes inside to pay. After a few minutes I start thinking, “What the hell? Is he playing video poker in there or something?” Then I see the cashier from the counter come out the door and start waving her arms to an ambulance coming down the street. All of a sudden, I got really panicky. I couldn’t see Joe in the store, and my imagination starts raging a hundred miles a minute. Did he have a heart attack? Did someone walk in with a gun and shoot his ass? Did he slip and hit his head and is now bleeding all over the Little Debbie’s snack cakes??? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? So while I’m thinking all this, I am simultaneously running from the car to the store, looking through the windows to see anything at all. Once I get into the store, I’m looking around like crazy, then I see Joe on the floor, crouched over a very lifeless girl in the bathroom. He’s performing CPR on her, and one of the girl’s friends is standing nearby screaming and wailing. When the ambulance finally gets there and the EMTs get inside, Joe stops the CPR and gets out of the way. I heard him say, “She’s dead…” and he backed out of the way. But as I was watching the EMTs put her on a stretcher, they said she was breathing on her own and had a pulse. Joe told me when he got in the store, she was purple-blue, no pulse, and wasn’t breathing. Apparently, she had gone to the bathroom while her friend waited, but when she took too long, her friend checked on her and found her as Joe described. Joe said that as he performed CPR, her color got better, but she turned blue again if he stopped. I told him, “But she was breathing on her own when the EMTs came… Joe, I think you just saved that girl’s life!” He just played it off, like he wasn’t sure if he did any good, but I was so amazed that he just stepped in there without a second thought to help a stranger. I was (and am) so proud to know him and be his friend.

It just amazes me how fragile life is, but more importantly, how one random encounter with a stranger could have such a profound influence on someone’s life (or near-death, as the case may be). We will probably never know what happened to that girl, what was wrong with her, or if Joe’s efforts really helped in the long run or not. But it’s kind of comforting to consider that even when you think you’re all alone in the world, a stranger might step in at just the right time and make all the difference. I wonder if that girl has that same reflection now, too.

I don't know about you, but all of this doom and gloom about the economy makes a sista wanna build a bomb shelter. However! I must say that Santa was very good to me, despite all the horror scenarios that ran through my mind of starving reindeer, elves being laid off, and jewelry ceasing to exist. Tony and I had an AWESOME Christmas party this year, and some 50 people showed up to eat, drink and be merry. It was a lot of fun. All of my social worlds were colliding in one place, but I loved it.

In spite of the new struggles of self-employment, I am happier than I've ever been. I love waking up in the morning and having my day be MY day. I don't have to give my time to anyone or anything I don't want to, and that is the best feeling I've had in a long time. The past three months have been tough, trying to drum up business and get regular clients. But at the same time, it's fun and full of possibilities. I know that I'm good at what I do, so it's just a matter of getting a few people to see the value in that. I am trying to be patient with the process.

I went to the Consumer Electronics Show last week to try to jumpstart some business in that industry as well. What a fun show! There was the coolest stuff there, from cell phones to computers to flat screen tvs to earphones to video games to speakers to robots! AWESOME. I was in tekkie geek heaven! I met a lot of people, and hopefully some of that will turn into some business for me. On the first day I got there, though, someone stole my purse from the booth I was in, so that really sucked. My license, my credit cards, my cash, my favorite lip gloss... ALL GONE! Not to mention the greatest offense, which was that it was my BRAND NEW little green purse that I got from Christmas and totally adored. God, I was so pissed. But I got everything taken care of, and my friend Joe was there to be my suga daddy for the week. I would have been completely up a creek without him! Tony overnighted my passport to me, so I had no trouble getting on the plane to come home.

Abby and I have begun a weight loss competition this year. Basically, we both want to lose 30 pounds, and we've decided that the first person to lose 10 pounds gets a $50 gift card. Then the next 10 pounds, another $50 gift card, and the last 10 pounds, a third gift card... Now that money is tight and someone (Abby) has spurred my competitive streak, I say she's going down like a one-armed monkey. Bring it!!!

Speaking of Abby, have I mentioned that her and Todd's little baby Lola is my new goddaughter??? OMG, I am in love with this little girl. She's not only the cutest baby EVER, but she's sweet and funny and good-natured and can totally rock skull-wear. Just like her Aunt Trish! <3

Oh god. I was just reading an article about relationships on Yahoo and the author actually wrote: "Women want someone who will put them on a peddle stool."

I am not shitting you. A peddle stool.

Kill me immediately.

(deep breath)

Ahhh... today was the first day of a completely new life for me. My last day at the magazine was Friday, and I couldn't be happier! I am so excited about doing my own thing now. I've got lots of talent and lots of opportunities. I am more than ready to do things that challenge me. I kinda like that feeling of, "Omg, can I do this? I don't know if I can do this. Well, let's just say yes and then I'll figure out how." Not to mention, I have the best boss ever (me), a big, beautiful office with very comfortable amenities (my home), and co-workers who generally follow orders and don't talk back, even though they tend to fall asleep on the job (my pups).

I have a lot of work to do in the next few weeks, but I'm so excited about it. I think my new mission statement should be similar to this quote from Thomas Edison: "I never did a day's work in my life. It was all fun."

Well, in a bold and unprecedented move, I resigned from my job yesterday.

My last day will be Sept. 30, because I wanted to get the October market issue out, plus a 2009 advertising calendar that we're currently working on. I did leave the option open that if they still needed my help after that I could work on a contract basis, but from my home. I also started my doctoral program yesterday as well, so it was quite the day. But let's take one thing at a time, shall we?

So, a couple months ago, I started my own business, WhipSmart Creative, initially thinking that it would be primarily a photography business that I would do on the side or on weekends locally. Then I started developing an idea of writing and designing newsletters for retailers... something they could send out to their customers as a part of their e-marketing programs, or post it on their website, or print it to give out in their stores. Then I thought, well, I could also write a lot of articles if retailers just want to beef up their websites, or I could design business cards, ads, forms, signage, etc, or write press releases... basically all kinds of graphic design or writing tasks. There are of course lots of people who do this kind of thing on a local basis, but few that have lots of furniture industry experience and offer it nationally at a discount....

Anyway, so I went out to the Las Vegas furniture market to talk to a bunch of retailers to see if there was any interest in a service like this, and I got lots of great feedback. A couple of service companies even talked to me about possibly partnering up to offer my services in conjunction with things they were doing. It was a very positive and exciting experience, and I really felt like, "Wow, I could really do this!" I've felt for some time now that I was in a sense wasting my time and talents at the magazine... I like and am proud of what I've done there, but there's nowhere else for me to go with it, really. There aren't any more resources or big changes to make, so I've basically been... well... bored. It is time for some new challenges, and I've wanted something that was creative, fun, and allowed me to be my own boss, really. This seemed like the universe was screaming, "Hey dumbass. It's time."

So I'm stepping out on a limb, trusting that this is something that is needed and will be valuable to retailers, not only in the home furnishings industry, but also in other industries (such as electronics or fitness). I've got lots of ideas, and I'm so excited to do something by my own standards and schedule. It's also a perfect time to have some added flexibility with the addition of my doctoral classes. I'm sure I'll have lots of papers and readings ahead of me, so it will be nice not having to do all of that at the end of the day or all on the weekends.

And you know what? Who the hell cares if it doesn't take off like I think it will? What's the worst that can happen? I have to get another job? So be it. But I'll be damned if I don't at least TRY to get what I want out of life! I keep reminding myself of my longtime motto: "Nobody's going to do it for you or give it to you." I'm all about working for something I really want, so I'll try this on for size and see how it fits.

My website isn't quite finished yet, but feel free to check out whipsmartcreative.com. You can sign in your email address so I can keep you updated, if you want. (I promise not to spam you!) :) Hopefully the site will be all done in just a couple days or so.

Please send lots of good vibes and well wishes my way! It's a new day; halleluia and pass the potatoes!

Whew. More traveling... this time to Atlanta. I just got back yesterday from a great marketing conference in Hotlanta, which is about a 5-6 hour drive from my house. There were some great speakers and I got lots of ideas for the magazine. Plus, it's ALWAYS nice to be out of my office. Always. I've gotten to the point where just walking in the door fills me with dread. I have been so stressed out lately that my poor face, which never breaks out or anything, has transformed into Fright Night. Ok, maybe not, but for me it's Halloween-esque.

To minimize the scariness factor, I went to get a facial and a light chemical peel called a Blueberry Smoothie something before my trip... and I loved it! It was so relaxing, and I felt all fresh and clean and purty.... Then I went back to work the next day and my face resumed its typical grimace.

I am working to build up my side photography business, WhipSmart Creative. I recently did the photography for a friend's wedding and had such a great time doing so. I can really see myself doing photography/design as my career, but it's a scary leap to go from that steady paycheck to having to stir up business for yourself. Seems so unpredictable -- but maybe that's one of the things I really like about it. I get bored so easily. I want something to challenge me, to challenge my brain, my ambition, my creativity... I know I would be much happier, that's for sure. I really need to do something creative, and I feel like I'm tapped out at this magazine job. I should clarify -- it's not that I couldn't do more with this magazine; it's that my bosses don't want to give me any resources or support to do so. I'm really tired of all the bullshit. So I just feel like I'm spinning my wheels...

Funny sidebar: I have been doing some really wacky shit in my sleep, probably in response to all of the wacky shit I'm dealing with in real life. A few weeks ago, Tony woke me to tell me that I sat up in the middle of the night and started punching the crap out of him!!! Just balled up my fist and started pounding him hard in the chest. After 2-3 hits, he was awake enough to dodge my blows and "wake" me up. He asked what was wrong and I just muttered, "Oh, I don't want to talk about it," and went back to sleep! Weird.

THEN, a few nights ago, Tony wakes me up to tell me that I was just steady giggling in my sleep! Huge smile on my face, giggling away like a loony. He asked me later if I remembered what I was dreaming and I told him I was with some old friends goofing around. We ended up in this church and sat in the front pew, but no one else was in the church. There were two upright pianos facing each other, and a life-size statue of adult Jesus was sitting at the piano bench between the two. Suddenly he came to life and started playing the piano, one hand in front and the other playing the piano behind him.

I thought this was completely rad of Jesus to do, especially since he was playing a Nirvana song. I remember being especially impressed with this Jesus that he was cool enough to know and play Nirvana, but obviously it also struck me as hilarious since I was giggling like mad...

I am so random! :)

Why are college kids the only ones who get spring breaks? I mean, really. Why do they deserve a week off from the unbearable task of attending classes, learning, drinking, and going to regular parties? No... I have decided that I definitely am much more deserving of a regular spring (and fall) break for putting up with the crap I have to on a daily basis.

Therefore, the work trip to the Bahamas could not have come at a better time. Was it work? Sure. But I was the photographer for the event, so I was completely having a great time doing that. (But don't let my bosses know that I had a good time -- they probably will never let it happen again.) Anyway, if you check out my Bahamas album on my Myspace page you'll see why I am not complaining AT ALL. (Sidenote: if you're going to the Bahamas any time soon, stay away from drinking 5-6 Goombay Smashes. It's an ugly, ugly level of drunk that should not be repeated. Ever.)

I got there on Thursday and was done with work stuff by about 1 pm on Sunday. Then I decided to stay an extra day to relax and play. First thing I did on Sunday was a deep water dolphin encounter, where I swam with, hugged, kissed, and got pushed on a boogie board by the dolphins! Totally awesome. Then some of my friends and I went and played in the waterpark that is a part of the Atlantis resort, then walked along the beach, with its brilliantly white sand and crystal clear blue water. Gorgeous. My view from my hotel room was fn amazing, the food offsite was fantastic, and I loved, loved, LOVED all the ocean life I got to see and photograph on my time off.

On Monday, one of my best friends, Joe, and I went snorkeling, which was probably the coolest thing I did on the whole trip. There were three dive sites: the first was the best, with all kinds of beautiful fish and coral to see; the second wasn't so great 'cause the fishies were hiding; and the third site was a shark dive!!! The guides dropped a crate of chum about 20 feet into the water, where about 50-60 coral reef sharks started circling. Then those 10 of us who were brave (or stupid) enough to get in the water, did so, and got a close-up view of the sharkies. After about 10 minutes, we got back in the boat and the guides pull up the crate and begin to feed the sharks. That's when they all rise to the surface and literally a feeding frenzy begins... It was AWESOME. I loved it. After the snorkeling trip, I spent some more time at the Atlantis waterpark floating along the lazy and rapids river, the intertube rides, walking the beach, etc. It was a fantastic day, and I am so glad I decided to stay an extra day to enjoy a little spring break of my own.

Today was back to reality unfortunately, but I am feeling pretty good. I came home to some fantastic news -- I got accepted to my doctoral program at UNCG!!!!!! I am so excited!!! Finally. I will start back at school in the fall in the Consumer & Retail Studies department. I think it's a good fit for what I'm doing now, plus it will make me lots more marketable wherever I want to go from here. I'm really relieved to be starting on it. I love being in school, and I would not have been satisfied with myself if I had not pursued this. So I am really, really excited and proud of myself for getting started!

Anyway, lots of good stuff going on, so I'm actually feeling positive and optimistic. Of course, this probably means that I'm going to trip and fracture an arm or something tomorrow, but for the time being, I'll enjoy the blissful endorphins while they last! :)

It's been a flurry of activity for this lil-whip in the past few months, but if I don't post now I fear I may lose my faithful fanbase (all three of you). Soon after the Vegas trip, I decided I really wanted some time just for me. Some people go to the beach for a vacation. I go to New York City. I took off to NYC, where I spent a few days shopping, going to museums, art galleries, visiting my old hangouts, and of course eating some really great food. It was a wonderful trip, and I wish I had had a few more days there just to hang out. There's something about walking the city, with all of its people and bustling activity, that I just love. It's invigorating and inspiring to me. I feel very much alive there, and I guess it's surprising how comfortable I feel there. It makes me wonder what my life would have been like had I gone back there to work after graduation. My career certainly may have been a lot more exciting, but I sincerely doubt I would have the kinds of people in my life that I do now. I remember it being a very tough place to meet "normal" people.

After that trip, I had some work trips to take... first to Dayton, Ohio, then to Holland, Michigan. It was pretty fn cold there in March, I'll tell ya, but this hot-blooded Cuban LOVED it, of course. I got to see Lake Michigan, with thick, choppy ice stretching out from the shore and rocking gently from the water's waves underneath. A beautiful sight. I wish I had taken a few pictures of that, but my eyes were stinging so bad from the wind and the cold that I doubt I could focused long enough to do so. The men I interviewed for the magazine articles I had to write were very nice, and I had a great time chatting with them and getting to see what they do. I also did the photography for the article, and I was really pleased with how that turned out as well.

Just got through with another High Point market, which was a good one. I attended a lot of seminars, some good and some a complete waste of time, but I got lots of ideas for the magazine. Did the photography for the Retailer of the Year banquet, and that was a lot of fun. I got dressed up in this cute retro-looking dress with black tights and cool shoes, so I was feelin' sassy and adorable! I genuinely like a lot of the retailers that I know, so it's fun to see them and get to chat with them at the banquet.

Now I'm gearing up for a convention next week in the Bahamas! I am so stoked. I'm going to be the photographer for the event, which I absolutely LOVE. I will be working a lot, constantly going from one event to the next to shoot photos of everything, then I have to cull through all the pics, edit them, then put together a slide show that they play during the last dinner of the convention. Pretty fun job. I won't have much time to play during the convention, but I am going to stay an extra day to go snorkeling and to do this dolphin encounter thing and play on the beach, of course. I can't wait! I'm sure it will be absolutely amazing. I'll tell you all about it when I get back.

I have other news to discuss, but this is already getting hella long. I'll try not to slack off for so long next time! Besides, I'm on the third day of this ridiculous migraine and if I sit here much longer I will vomit. Peace out.

There are some days when no matter what I say, it feels like I'm far away in another country, and whoever is doing the translating has had far too much to drink.

Ah, some things may stay in Vegas, but since I'm a blogging addict, I suppose not all of it will.

I had a great time in Vegas, less so because of market and more so because of getting to spend time with my friends. Some days I guess you just "have to get through it," but other days are more of a pleasure... :) I had the trip from hell trying to get over there on Sunday... I was supposed to arrive in Vegas around 11 a.m., but I didn't get there until about 6:30 p.m. Apparently, despite all the advances in modern technology, FOG is a problem for landing planes. Who knew. So I began my trip around 7 a.m., flew to Memphis, then to Birmingham, then back to Memphis, where I missed my connecting flight, of course. Then, the a-holes wanted to route me to Detroit (!!!) then to Vegas, putting me there around 10 p.m. Well, at this point, it got unholy. I admit I came unglued and may have appeared evil. This got me nowhere, of course, but Memphis will never be the same... I think we may have lost a few civilians during the hostilities. Then, out of sheer frustration and sleep deprivation, I got teary-eyed with one service agent, who took some pity on me. (These big green eyes ain't just for looks, ladies and gentlemen. I use them as weapons of trickery on occasion. Suckers.) He managed to find a flight to Dallas, then switched airlines to get me to Vegas by 6 p.m. or so... At that point, a few hours made all the difference in the world, and I almost kissed him. (I did bat my eyelashes at him though. Sucker.) What a long day.

Market was really busy... lots of people there, which makes it fun, but so much to do that my poor feet were really hurting by the third day. On Tuesday, there was a big party at the MGM outside by the pool. There was a huge stage with a Frank Sinatra/Rat Pack-type band, which was cool, plus lots of food and stiff drinks. Apparently I was a bit too aggressive with the Jack and Cokes, because when I started walking with my friends to go to dinner (it was only about 7:30 or so), I was really freaking hammered. I mean, I don't remember the taxi ride to the Rio, where we were going to dinner... then... oh boy. It was ugly. I did compose myself enough to sit and laugh and play while the guys ate, but I wasn't about to touch ANY food. Whew. It was crazy. But the guys took care of me and we had a blast.

On Wednesday I went to this really nice restaurant called Michael's, and everything about it was amazing. Too long to describe here, but it was an incredible place -- great service, great food, great company, etc. Loved it. On Thursday I walked around the Miracle Mile shops by myself for a while and went to the sushi bar at the Paris. Then I walked over to Casino Royale and played some roulette for a while and met up later with my friends there. I only lost about $20 for the night, so I was happy and had a good time.

I wasn't really ready to leave on Friday. I felt like the week went by way too fast, and I wanted lots more time to play and less time having to work (or watch others work!). My room at the Signature was gorgeous, with a huge spa whirlpool bath, a cool balcony overlooking part of the strip, a full kitchen, and a very comfy bed. I would have liked to hang out there a few more days to just relax.

I probably will have another trip or two coming up this month for the Retailer of the Year interviews, but we'll see. Maybe in early March I'll be able to take that trip to NYC. I hope so.

In other news, I began a photography class last night, and I think it's going to be really interesting and fun. Something to keep my brain occupied, at least. Next week, my brother Brant is being commissioned as a JAG in the Air Force, so I'm going to drive down to Montgomery, Ala., for the dinner and ceremony... I'm so proud of the little goofball. He's all grows up now.

Ok, yes... this is like the 2nd or 3rd Year of the Kitten... What is the YOTK, you ask?! Weh-helllllll..... let me enlighten you!

Every year I bust my ass working out, eating well and avoiding anything that tastes remotely like it has butter as an ingredient all in the hopes of losing some weight and fighting this pot belly that is threatening to file for its own zip code. (And how's that for a run-on sentence from the editor?) And then comes Thanksgiving... which ushers in the month that I affectionately term the Season O' Gluttony, knocking me off of my hypothetical and literal treadmill. How is it that it can take me four to six months to lose 10 pounds and then two weeks or so to gain half of that back?! I mean, how does that not defy some law of physics or nature or just plain human decency?!?! *sigh* So along comes Jan. 1, and the cycle begins again, with renewed fervor, dedication, and vehemence. Thus, the Year of the Kitten (that would be ME, for those of you who are a little slow on the uptake). Wish me continued success!

Anyway, Christmas was a little slice of hell this year as Tony and I spent about 40 hours over the week in the CAR. Eighteen hours to Lake Charles, then to Baton Rouge, then to Houma, then back to HP. It was exhausting, but good to see both families. I have decided that my god-daughter is the most beautiful and sweetest child I have ever seen in my life. No, I am not biased; don't be ridiculous. She is simply perfect and better than any child you know.

This morning began in its usual fashion for me. I got up, put on my contacts, makeup, then stand in the closet for 10 minutes deciding what to wear. Well, this morning, all of my pants seemed to have disappeared! (And since it's like 20 degrees, I'm not wearing a freaking skirt today. Forget it.) So I'm going through the entire closet, wondering what the hell happened to them, then wandering throughout the house, calling for my pants. I looked in the spare bathroom -- no pants. I look in Clean Clothes Purgatory (the dryer) -- no pants. I looked in the puppy room, kitchen, media room -- NO PANTS! What the hell? Finally, I sort through the pile of boxes and under my enormous new fluffy bathrobe laid out on the bedroom chair, and there are my neatly folded pants. Ahh. Success.

Then I went to make my breakfast shake, which is a long story in itself, so suffice it to say that it ended with half the shake on the counter and me spewing a lengthy string of expletives.

Oh that reminds me. I haven't been filling you in on the Clumsiness Report, and I think I should finish out 2007 with this little Christmas Day gem. (Annie, I know you feel me.)

This was first thing on Christmas morning.... I got up early to make my mashed sweet potatoes dish to bring to my brother's house, and I tend to be really careful when taking things in/out of the oven, because... well, because I'm clumsy. So I manage the get the sweet potatoes in and out of the oven with no problem... yay me. Then I'm trying to pour them into this disposable aluminum container to take on the road because I was still at Tony's parents house that morning and couldn't take her dishes, obviously. Here's where I went wrong. There was a wire rack thingy with handles that was attached to the hot tray of sweet potatoes. So I'm pouring the damn potatoes and my forearm touches the hot-ass handle of the wire rack!!!! I yelped and then spewed a lengthy string of expletives -- waking the family on Christmas morning to the tune of "Aww f*&#-s%&t-dammit-to-hell-motherf@%#er, you piece of @#&% son of a ---!!!" and so on. (That's probably frowned upon given Jesus's birthday and all.)

A week later and I still have a three-inch red line on my right forearm, but at least now it's scabby and healing.

That is all for now. I will probably have another report for you shortly. Happy New Year!

So, yesterday my company had its “Holiday Pot-Luck Luncheon.” The company shells out the money for a honey-baked ham, and everyone else brings something to share. (I didn’t bring shit because I just have a bad attitude and no holiday spirit, apparently.)

That was all fine and good... I ate a little, and my friend Laurie and I hid out in the conference room avoiding most of the annoying chatter. But then came the lamest holiday event I have ever experienced. The company called it the “Dirty Santa” game, but we’ll call it the “How to Piss Off Your Employees” game for the time being. Here’s how it goes: everyone has to pick a number. Person #1 picks a present under the tree, and Person #2 can either steal it or select another present from under the tree… Surely most of you have heard of or played some form of this game.

The funny thing was that ALL the presents under the tree were shit that has been in the company storage room for like four years — old ass coffee mugs, old nylon bags we give away at conferences, lame-ass cheap plastic frames from 1976... shit like that! The bags were the absolute worst though. The present I actually picked was a bag that was from some random company that had obviously given it to US, with that company’s logo on it and everything!!!!

I mean, it was SO obvious they were just trying to get rid of the shit instead of doing something nice for the employees, and it just really pissed me off. I mean, how effing lame is that?! I could not hide my disgust. I kept making commentary on the shittiness of the gifts and suggesting that soon someone was going to open a half-eaten baloney sandwich.

Seriously, couldn’t they have at least gone to the freakin’ dollar store and purchased some unused pencils or something? I certainly would have appreciated (and used) THAT a hell of a lot more! It didn’t have to be expensive, but it could have at least been something remotely new and/or useful! Jesus. I put my bag back under the tree and told Santa he could keep it to tote around his extra coffee mugs and plastic frames. I had no use for that piece of shit.

Actually, the absurdity of the situation had me giggling once I got back to my office… I was just shaking my head, and couldn't believe how fn sad that was! So given my current low emotional status, at least I actually did get something good out of the deal! Perhaps I should thank them for their miserliness!

Unbelievable. Truly.

Listen to this shit.

Most of you know that I'm biologically two Hallmark cards away from sobbing at any given moment without my daily meds. Well, the happy little caveat to the story is that the meds only make you THINK you're better, when the reality is that depression will rear its ugly head whenever and wherever the hell it wants to — meds or not.

So I'm going about my life unsuspectingly when all of a sudden I nosedive into feeling like shit for about four weeks... then six weeks... then ten. Of course, it's a long story, but I went to the doc and he upped my meds again. (At this rate, I'll be drooling in some asylum by the time I'm 45.) I've been on the new meds for a week or two, but I'm not feeling any better. I had a really bad day on Friday, just tearing up at my desk at work, in the car, and then at dinner with about 15 people. I thought that going out would be better for me than staying home, but I just couldn't shake it... It sucks. Really, really badly sucks.

In other news, Tony and I are driving the 15 hours to South Louisiana for the holidays to visit BOTH the families!!! Dear god, is there enough oxycodone in the world to survive this? We shall see. We're going to Tony's family's house first this year, so that will be a nice change. Then on to my brother's house on Christmas day, and then to my parents' house that night... All in all, we'll be gone about a full week. I am really looking forward to seeing my baby goddaughter Parrish (who is actually three now) and my nephew Parke. And I can't wait to spend some quality time with my girl Tam, who I miss like... whoa.

Other than that, I'm bored to tears — literally, nowadays!!! Got all my Christmas shopping done, presents wrapped, magazine will be shipped next week, still haven't written my column... the usual. I'm sure I'll have some interesting stories post-Christmas though!

Happy Holidays to all of you!!! Hope you spend it with those you love most.

Well, I realized today that I've been slacking on my blog, but that was only to protect you, dear readers, from being subjected to the randomness that is my mind. But then I thought: wait, these people have read my blog before. They already know I'm completely off my rocker, anyway. So here is a post. Look at me. I'm posting.

So, my little beak is healing quite nicely, albeit a little itchy still. I went back for my second follow-up appointment last week, where the doctor told me the results of the pathology report. It turns out that my tumor was a myocytoma, which is a tumor that grows in the muscle (in my case, the muscle between my nose and mouth). It was benign, which is great news of course. Not so good news was that my doctor said this type of tumor will often grow back and many times is malignant! So I'll be seeing him every few weeks for the next TWO YEARS to make sure that doesn't happen and to be cautious, yada, yada, tumors, yada.... Ok, let me just say that yes, of course I'm happy that my tumor was benign and that I'm ok. But I was expecting him to say, "Oh, you're fine now. I'll never see you again. Have a nice life." and then I'd be on my way feeling a little lighter sans the tumor. But noooooooooo... I've got to have the PERSISTENT type of tumor. I've got to have the type of tumor that says, "Oh yeah? You cut me bitch and I'll take over your face!!!!" Or at least that's how it sounds in my head.

Anyway, I had a pity party for myself for a couple of days but now I'm ok. I'm trying not to be paranoid or freaked out about it, and I'm just glad I have a doctor who is really awesome and wants to make sure I'm ok. Plus, he's kinda cute. Bonus.

In other news, can we all agree that I effing ROCK?!?! Ok, so as of this week, I have lost 14 POUNDS since my birthday!!! That rules. Now I'm starting to get pretty happy about it. I mean, you know... five pounds was nice, but I couldn't really tell and who knows if that's just 'cause of the way the moon was aligned with Mars that day. Ten pounds was fantastic, but I'm still worried that nothing's working right and my body is going to reject health altogether and balloon up to 400 pounds. But 14 pounds?!?!? C'mon now. That's cause for some kind of celebratory dance. I'm thinking of that 80's song "You can dance if you wantto..." 'cause yes. I think I will dance. Dance I shall.

My latest hope is that since my body doth love a good tumor, maybe my tummy is really just one big tumor that needs to be removed immediately. I mean, hey, I had that ginormous tumor in there when I was 12, so why not another one? That would make things nice and simple for me. Slice, snip, cut, Percocet, Percocet, done! Presto! Flat tummy!

You don't know. It could happen.

Well, I survived... and my nose is happily still attached and perfect! Thanks to all my Livejournal and Myspace friends for wishing me well and being concerned about me. You guys are the best.

So I went in for surgery early Thursday morning, and the clinic at first said they didn't have me listed for surgery that day... now, I hadn't eaten since midnight, hadn't had any coffee, and was rather foul about being cut on to begin with, but I was nice and actually a little patient with them as they got everything straightened out. In a couple of hours, I was being pricked on the finger, having stuff sprayed up my nose, an IV put in, and in my adorable little surgical gown on a stretcher. Whatever they gave me to knock me out was awesome 'cause I was out before they even wheeled me into the O.R. When I woke up, I felt like I had just gotten the shit beat out of me -- I was freezing, my face was swollen, my nose felt broken, my throat hurting from the trake tube they had down my throat, there are stitches blocking up my right nostril, and I had a nasty headache on top of it all. I eventually woke up and had some Coke and a few crackers, and eventually they brought me to Tony, who took me home. I don't remember much of Thursday since I slept a good bit and was happily unconscious from the meds. By Saturday, I was feeling much better though, and you could barely tell I had surgery at all. The doc said the little tumor looked normal and that he didn't have trouble getting it all out... so that's good. I have my follow-up visit on Thursday, where he'll give me the official pathology report. I'm not worried about it though.

There was a party on Saturday night that I really, really wanted to go to because I wanted badly to get dressed up for Halloween this year. I stored up all my energy to play that evening, and then after only a couple hours at the party I was DONE. I think I fell asleep on the way home. It was pretty pitiful. Oh well. I did look cute in my Alice in Wonderland costume for a little while!

Today, all hell is in a rage because my parents are coming to Greensboro. Lock up your children and small animals, people. In spite of my recent surgery, I managed to clean up my entire house, do 3-4 loads of laundry, and stress myself out sufficiently. Seriously, how old do I have to be before I cease to be concerned with this shit? They haven't been here in a couple years, so hopefully all will go well. Who knows. They don't really know about my tattoos, so that might be a new source of contention... *sigh* I've been storing up my pain meds to take during their visit in case I need to blissfully pass away the hours unphased. I will see how this plan works. If it goes well, maybe I will revive the plan for Christmas as well (yes, we are planning to go to LA for Christmas this year... no, I don't know WHAT the hell we are thinking.).

The Parade of Crazy should be rollin' in around 7:30. Please say prayers, light candles and rub your buddahs for my sanity. Thank you. Should this happen to be my last post and I am henceforth committed to a mental institution, spending my days rocking myself in a padded corner somewhere, please remember me well, dear friends.

I don't really like coffee, but I don't really like it when my head hits my desk when I fall asleep either.

*sigh* Listen to this horseshit:

So, apparently when you turn 30, shit just starts growin' on you. Literally. I went to the doctor yesterday to get this bump inside my nose checked out. It just popped up out of nowhere about a year ago and has been annoying the hell out of me. It doesn't hurt or anything, but it's annoying. (And no, it's not a stubborn booger, you a-holes. Tony insists on calling it a booger polyp, to which I take great offense.)

According to my father, the people in our family only die of two things: cancer, and gunshot wounds. I seem to have passed the latter category's most dangerous cycle (my teens and 20s), so the cancer option is the one I tend to look out for now. So the doc tells me it's some kind of tumor, and I have to have surgery asap to get it removed before it takes over my face or something. You would think that it would be some simple little in-the-office procedure, but noooooo... I've got to go to the hospital, be put completely asleep, cut on, send the thing to pathology, and wait around for a few hours to wake up and then make sure I don't have a permanent nosebleed. With any luck, I won't have two black eyes afterward. Should be fantastic. If so, I'm going to tell people that I was involved some kind of shady gang war, and hopefully build up some more street cred.

Tony asked if he could keep the cyst after the surgery so he could poke it with a stick. After he regained consciousness, he said that perhaps that was not a great suggestion.

The festivities will commence next Thursday at 7:45 a.m. I probably will be all better by Friday, but I'm planning on being foul and whiny for a good four days. I mean, I should be a freaking pro at surgeries by now, but I'm not too comfortable with the fact that this one is ON MY FACE!!!! Hmm. Maybe I can convince the doc to go ahead and let Daron come in the op room and pierce my lip while I'm out. (Hell, I haven't been sparring for months, so why not? Oh wait, I forgot -- my boss would shit a brick.)

Anyway, I am not only annoyed with this latest development, but I am also feeling like shit today. I think I'm just going to call it a day and crawl back into bed. I'll let you know how it goes.

Another market under my belt. Not too bad, overall. I had a lot of fun meeting up with friends and drinking way too much, of course. One night, about 20 people and I got together at Buffalo Wild Wings to watch a football game and a baseball game (neither of which I cared anything about), but I was effing DETERMINED to get drunk that night. I mean, I only have 2-4 markets a year, maybe a convention or two, but those are really the only times I go out. I love my friends here to death, but they're definitely not a partying type of crowd (that includes my husband, too, for that matter). We are pretty low-key on a regular basis. But I love to go out and dance, have a good time, and stumble home on occasion, so markets seem to be my best time to do so.

That night, I started off with four Jack and Cokes. Maybe they were watered down or something, because I seriously was stone-cold SOBER after those. It pissed me off because I should have been at least halfway to tipsy by then. Nothing. So I chatted up our waitress, Nicole, who was a lot of fun (and I think she liked me, liked me because I think she was gay and she kept touching me). Anyway, I told her to bring out the shots, so I start throwing back lots of different stuff, from straight Skye vodka shots to some Washington apple shot thing. TEN shots later, I'm finally feeling pretty good, and I felt I had accomplished my goal. I don't know what got into me, but I was a freaking beast that night. What's crazy is that I wasn't even wicked drunk at that point!!! I mean, I was definitely drunk, but not to the point of room-spinning, feeling ill, talking-way-too-loud drunk. Everyone was quite impressed by me, and I have been dubbed "The Machine" by my market friends. I will wear that title proudly, thank you very much. Add to the fact that I didnt go to sleep until 1 a.m. and woke back up at 6 a.m. to work another full day at market, and my Bionic Woman status is even further solidified.

Now market's over, and I'm back at the office, wishing I could somehow hang myself from the flourescent lighting. Yesterday I endured an hour and a half-long meeting about our new insurance plan... and if you know me, there are a few things that I just can't suffer lightly: 1.) higher math, 2.) stupid people, and 3.) INSURANCE MEETINGS!!!! Oh my God, I was about two HMO discussions away from stabbing myself in the eye with a pen... However, I hadn't met my $2500 deductible, so I decided against it. (Oh dear god. I just said "deductible." I'm feeling nauseous now.)

I'm supposed to be working on a feature article for November, which I can't seem to get motivated to do, and what I really want to do is get the hell out of here, get a massage, a pedicure, maybe get my hair done, eat a stuffed-crust pizza with a chocolate shake, and shop for shit that I don't need. (Chances of that happening are pretty slim to none.) Today at work I was told I had to cut a little over $20,000 from my 2008 budget, so that basically means I'm once again going to be asked to do a lot more (a.k.a. miracles) with a lot less. (sigh) I need to get out of here.

Oy. I really need to get back into school or at least take some random classes or something. I AM BORED!!!

I think my life would be a lot easier if I could just get my selves to agree on something.