Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Moving on Up

There once was a young woman with a dream.. a dream of being able to update the world on a daily basis with all the insanities of her life and the random thoughts in her head. She started a blog to record life with a toddler, a career and a husband and a problem with impulse shopping.

The funny thing was that people liked her stories, they were amused by her antics. While friends from a far were able to check-in on her daily life, others started to also. Then more people.. and more and more.. Now about 60 - 100 people read her rantings on a daily basis (even though they don't all comment so we really have NO clue who these people are!).

But plain and simple wasn't good enough for this girl.. no no no. She's too hip, too cool for "templates" She wanted pictures, flowy font and FLOWERS! So what did she do?

She went out and got herself her own land.


Come visit and bookmark BETH'S NEW BLOG!

(I promise not to talk about myself in the 3rd person on a regular basis)

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

“You want a Big Smokey? Cause you like it spicy!”

Oh my. Maybe it's the sugar (i broke down and had a brownie. it was out of spite, but thats another story) but I'm crying I'm laughing so hard. Read THIS.

28 hours to spa time…

Counting the moments, I so need a little break here.

I had to wake up at 5 AM this morning so that I could be at work by 6:30 for an event. Waking up that early is hard enough, but it was made even harder by the morning news. Back to back to back stories about poor, innocent children being hurt or killed or kidnapped or who are missing. Our news did a 5 minute segment on the jackass who in a stand-off with the LAPD used his 19-month old daughter as a shield in a gunfight. And what about the woman who drove 8 hours with 2 of her children in her TRUNK?! Her excuse?! She didn’t have enough room in the car with the dog and the luggage also. Let me repeat that - She didn’t have enough room in the car with the dog and the luggage also.

I will give you all your moment of stunned silence/rage.

At least when you hear the stories of Natalie Hollaway or those 2 kids from Idaho you can rest assured that they were loved and well taken care of by their families and still would be if it wasn’t for some random act by some psycho. But the stories about the parents that do these things to their own children just kill me. I spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week making sure that I can give my child enough love, support and protection from the world as I possible can. Everyday I agonize over whether or not I’m doing all the right things for him. Is he getting enough veggies? Is he getting the right about of stimulation? Is daycare good for him or traumatizing him? How can I keep him from touching the germy trash can? So I just don’t get it. I don’t get how a parent could do anything else but love and protect their children in every single way possible. Not put them in the line of fire as your loser ass is trying to run from the cops. AGH!

In effort to not work myself up into a tizzy over other people’s stupidity (mantra from therapy: “Its their issue, not yours. Its there issue, not yours.”) I will now think about a more light hearted topic like the Nordstom sale that begins tomorrow or the new cheap CoverGirl “tru blend” make-up that I bought and not sure that I like. Unfortunately, when I try to not seethe in hatred for the dumbasses of the world, my brain goes immediately to the box of delightful brownie bites in the kitchen area. Brownies will make the world better, wont they?


Monday, July 11, 2005

My parachute is black with dog hair and baby vomit all over it

Lucas woke up today at 6:45 (15 minutes before we usually have to wake him up) and started whining. All throughout getting him dressed, giving him some milk and cheerios and the car ride to daycare, he was grumpy and moping. I feel bad that the kid had to learn of life’s toughest lessons so early on… That Mondays Suck.

2 weeks ago, my office moved from the temporary, abandoned wasteland of a space in which we were “squatters” in to a deluxe, top floor, newly built out prime location. Gone is the bridge to Nordstrom (just mere weeks before the sale of the year!) and the scary hallway where either terrifying Aliens or Christopher Walken may jump out of. Now we have floor to ceiling windows, limestone tile and a kitchen with granite countertops. But while it may look nice, it just doesn’t feel right. I laugh in the mornings when I walk into my office with my large faux mahogany desk and high back, black leather chair. While part of me thinks, “yea, big time baby!” the other part of me feels as I’m faking it. I can walk the walk the walk and talk the talk, but am I really fooling anyone?

Wednesday we have a “staff development and retreat,” which is slightly humorous to me since there are only four of us in the office and most of the day will be spent getting luxurious spa treatments from at the Spa at Torrey Pines. (CAN. NOT. WAIT.) The development part of the day is being lead by the chairman of our board, and before I go any further I want to tell you all that this is the man we all dream of working for. He’s all about work/life balance and treating employees with respect. He’s nice, he’s easy to talk to and he really seems to have realistic, no BS/Drama way of getting things done. I 100% respect this man and his ideas and I told him that one day I want to work for him directly. That being said, for our “development” he asked all to read the classic career book, What Color is Your Parachute.

First reaction is a bit sketchy since it is a book about job hunting – and the guy running the organization asked us to read it… but, I figure if they were shit canning all of us, they wouldn’t be getting us massages and/or scrubs and taking us and our spouses out to nice dinner after. But the other thought was what if this book (which I have read before in college) tells me that my career choice is all wrong for me. Then what?

Jason and I talked a lot about this on the way up to LA for the merging of the grandparents (His parents. My parents. BBQ. Nothing really to report). The thing is that I know that I’m good at my job. Skills wise, I rock. But is this my passion in life or a means to an end? And how many people out there really are passionate about their jobs? While WCIYP makes it seem easy to just “go out and do what you love,” how realistic is that?

I remember the first time I read that book. I was still a good 1 ½ years from graduating college, and LIFE was beckoning. I was a speech communications major! I could do anything I wanted to! I was young! I was motivated! Everyone wants ME to work for them! I was so full of optimism. THAT’S what I miss most about that time in my life – the optimism. Now when someone asks me what my dream career would be, while I would love nothing more in the world than to open little boutique, all I think about is how hard it would be and what are the chances of it really succeeding and how the hell am I going to get the money to open a store. While one may think that’s pessimistic of me – I think its just reality. While its wonderful to fantasize about your “Dream Job!”, how much of a reality is it? I guess that I’ve been bitten in the ass by reality too many times.

And just like Mondays, reality can suck.

NOT that my reality sucks!! God, this post has turned into this morbid, depressing diatribe. I almost didn’t post it because I feel like freaking Debbie Downer. I didn’t mean this post to necessarily be about my lost dreams and lost youth. But more about the fact that I really want to tell Mr. Richard Nelson Bolles to go fuck himself and his parachute. I just want to check into the spa for my salt rub.

Friday, July 08, 2005

It's finally sunny and warm - so who wants a sweater?

Now that 4th of July weekend is over, we are inching every so quickly towards the fall and "back to school!" line up of clothing. Have you noticed? Bright summer hues are already being replaced by browns and creams. Suddenly you are shivering as you are walking through Nordies because the temp inside the store is 58 degrees. And god love it - the mannequins are already wearing sweaters. Or "shrugs" as is the hot look this year.

I swear that the sun FINALLY came out here in SD this week. Didn't you read Jason's blog? We were sitting under BLANKETS and HEATLAMPS while watching the fireworks on Monday. It's just barely summer here, and I'll be damned if I'll be able to find a new bathing suit or pair of shorts after next week.

I want to fight it.. I want to curse the stores and force them to let us enjoy turquoise blue and bright coral for just a little while longer! But I just got the catalog for the Nordstom anniversary sale in the mail (starts on the 15th!) and crap, I love the shrug on the inside front page and I think I may need to break down and get cowboy boots.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

The Week in Review

Is this not the freaking longest week ever? And I have Friday’s off, and I’m still sitting here picking at my arm hair in complete and utter boredom. I’m telling you, the hate of the week after a 3-day weekend almost cancels out the happiness of an extra day out of the office.

So since I am totally inspirationless today, I thought that I would recap and add more thoughts to some of my recent posts.

Babies, babies, babies!
Welcome to the world baby Julian!! Julian was born on July 5th at about 4:15. He weighed 7 lbs and 13 oz and is apparently just adorable. I was hoping to be able to post a picture.. but alas, Auntie Beth has yet to receive one…

For those who are having as much fun as I am watching the deterioration of Tom Cruise, check out this site – . Good for a smile, and on a day like today, we all need something to smile about.

Saga of the Shoe
I actually have worn the lusted after espadrilles twice this week! While you can’t see the cute ties, they do look good with long pants or jeans – and they are pretty comfy. Still trying to figure out what else to wear them with, but as long as they look good with jeans I’m set.

Busy Busy Busy
Yesterday I made you all tear up with the adorable little story of my inquisitive toddler. So, now let me describe the antics of this kid from last night. After his bath, I was getting him into his PJs and he somehow escaped and ran away in to the kitchen. I actually had to tackle him to get his jammies on him, him shrieking the entire time like the comfy cotton was instead made of hot coals. After a 5 minute battle of the jammies, I just sat back and let him loose. OH MY GOD.

For the next 30 minutes, Jason and I sat there as Lucas ran around the house like a crack head with ADHD. Fist we pulled out all the toys, then over to the surfboard step stool to “pop up”, then over to his chair to climb it, then back to the step stool, then over to his “gobble and go” hippo, then into the kitchen to open a drawer, then back to chair, then over the bookshelf, then jumping on the dog, then running down the hall to terrorize Mick a little more, then over to the glass doors to bang, then over to his toys to throw a few balls around.. I mean, this went on and on and on. We just stood there with gaping mouths wondering where he gets that energy from because it is NOT from us.

But my question is, with that as my son, HOW AM I NOT LINDSAY LOHAN SKINNY? With all the energy I expend just keeping up with my little Tasmanian devil, why are you not talking about me behind my back and expressing your concern over my dramatic weight loss?! IS IT BECAUSE I ATE THAT ONE BREADSTICK? REALLY? IS LIFE THIS CRUEL?!

On the topic of carbs..
I have this funny blood sugar thing. I think. Okay, when I eat something like a donut or powerbar, I get what I have named “sugar head.” It’s almost like a brain freeze, but from sugar/flour overload. It only happens with super sugary things that are also pastries.. I don’t know, that’s why until Krispy Kreme opened in San Diego I hadn’t eaten a donut in 6 years. So, besides feeling like an idiot for licking Pat & Oscars breadsticks just taste the yummy buttery salty goodness, I actually don’t mind the South Beach Diet. It’s not gotten REALLY nice now that you can buy the nifty little SBD brand foods! Yee-Haaaw, COOKIES! So, I bought a few of the SBD meal replacement bars, thought it would be good for those mornings when I need to try on everything in my closet before just breaking down and wearing the same black pants and black top, and don’t have time to make/eat eggs.

Yesterday was totally one of those days. I had to be at an event at 7, and being that my black pants were at the dry cleaners I was screwed and had to empty the contents of our closet onto our bed and scream and cry about how I have no clothes. I left the house at 6:55, grabbed the meal replacement bar, so proud of myself for remembering it so that I wouldn’t be tempted to eat a bagel at the event. Halfway to the event I realize that I forgot to put on a bra. Yea. Nice, huh? I was wearing one of those shelf-bra tank tops under my t-shirt, but I still usually wear a bra under it for modesty’s and for professionalism’s sake. But that’s not the point of the story, and since I had a jacket on, I don’t think anyone noticed (can I also mention the fact that really the only person who notices my tits anymore is my mother, and that’s only when I’m grabbing them, bitching about the loss of my perky lovelies to pregnancy and nursing. If anyone else did actually notice that I wasn’t wearing a bra, I would have been THRILLED that someone was actually looking at my chest). ANYWAY. So I start to eat the SBD bar that has “>2” grams of sugar.. and I get flipping sugar head anyway.

Hmm.. the no bra part of that story was FAR more interesting than the sugar part, huh?

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Bizarre Hollywood coincidence

A few years ago, Jason and I met my friend Ann (my fan from Sudan) for breakfast at this funny little coffee shop in Hollywood that was made famous from the movie Swingers. We seem to have a pretty good track record of seeing celebrities when we go out to breakfast in LA, and this day did not disappoint, and we saw Jeremy Sisto, the creepy brother Billy from HBO's Six Feet Under.

So anyway, tonight we are watching Monday's night Six Feet Under on our beloved DVR, and Claire and Billy are sitting at a coffee shop - THE SAME COFFEE SHOP WE SAW HIM AT.

Bizarre, huh? Think it means something?

Pulling it out when it counts*

I think we’ve scared a few of you ‘childfree’ ones a few times over the past few months with stories about the munchkin sized monster currently terrorizing our house… the screaming, the tantrums, the never-ending illnesses, the massive, all consuming shits… But, I must hand it to the kid, he can be a DREAM child at all the right times.

I mean there have been a few times over the past few months where I thought something would be a complete nightmare with him. Like, the plane ride (which yes, was a nightmare – but not because of anything that Lucas did) or a later than expected dinner at a restaurant with in-laws that haven’t seen him 7 months and second cousins that we haven’t seen in 5 years, these were both situations that could have been a recipe for disaster. But I must give the boy props – he can be the sweetest, most well behaved child – and he tends to pull out the “angel baby” routine when it really counts.

Jason and I are always getting “Lucas is the best baby!” and “What a GREAT kid!” from friends and family and even strangers. It’s just amazing to us. We’re so deep in the trenches with him that all we see is the meltdowns at the mall and the throwing food at dinner time or THE KID THAT IS OBSESSED WITH PUTTING HIS HANDS IN THE TRASH CAN AND TOILET.

The other night after Lucas went to bed, Jason and I were sitting there on the couch talking about what a fantastic child Lucas really is, and how intriguing it is to watch him turn into this little person.

Right now his daycare is teaching shapes and his “teachers” made him this little construction paper book of the 4 shapes they are learning. Yesterday he was carrying it around all afternoon, bringing it to us and making us go through the little book. We would ask him where the square is, and he would turn the page and point to the square and then smile and clap with excitement. The simplest things to us, are all brand new to him – and all he wants to do is get out there and explore it all.

Jason’s favorite “trick” of the moment? Ask Lucas where his nose is, and he immediately sticks ½ his finger UP his nose.

God – I love that kid. I so want to feign an illness right now and go get him from daycare and just spend the rest of the day hugging him.

*So just curious, how many of you thought this post was going to be about something sexual?

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Random Notes from the 4th of July Weekend

First off, we are old.

There will be no stories of drunken debauchery and skinny dipping in the bay during fireworks. Sorry to disappoint. Since our long weekend was somewhat uneventful due to the massive house cleaning that needed to be done in preparation for the in-laws arrival (they are not staying with us, but still, we like to at least put on the airs that we are clean, well groomed people worthy of raising their grandson) but I still have a few points of interests (maybe) from this weekend.

I have been LUSTING after a pair of black, wedgie espadrille sandals that tie around my ankle for the past 6 weeks. They spent many a shopping trip on the top of my “must have” list due to the fact that I see them on other people, but have NEVER SEEN THEM IN THE STORES. WTF?! They obviously exist, why do they allude me? Well, this weekend I found them. There they were at Nordstrom just waiting to be bought. The sales lady said they have only had them for 3 days. I was ecstatic.

You don’t understand, for the past 3 weeks, every time I put on an outfit I think that it would look SO much better if I had these shoes. So I get the shoes home and begin to try them on with various outfits. So my ‘summer’ ankle length jeans are a little too long for them. My fave flowered skirt just doesn’t look right with them. Not even my black gaucho pants… WHAT THE HELL?! SIGH. So they sat there through the holiday weekend, unworn and unloved.

I’m Too Sexy For My Clothes
Jason needed new shorts, so we went to Abercrombie and Fitch, because while everything else in that store has shrunken down to sizes that only fit midgets and 13 year olds, their men’s shorts are still the best. We turn the corner and walk into the store and I almost rolled Lucas’ stroller straight into a real life Abercrombie model – wearing nothing but low (and I mean LOW) slung jeans and a belt. Now, while the shitless wonder was indeed HOT!, I had to bite my tongue to stop from laughing right in his face.

So what IS A&F selling these days, overpriced worn through cargo pants, or sex?

The Quest
I am a white girl. I may have mentioned before that Jason has this fabulous skin color that after 5 minutes in the sun he goes the perfect shade of golden brown. Yea, not me – I go pink, or red and once even blue and blistered. So, self tanners have actually been a godsend for me as I’m finally able to achieve that golden glow. Well, here is a tip for all my fellow “tanorexics” out there – if you are using the fake stuff, and you get a pedi, just say “NO” to the callous remover treatment. While the lure of completely sloughed feet may sound nice, it eats right through the “tan” and leaves your feet and legs all mottled and you end up looking like you have the same disease that afflicts Michael Jackson. Yea, not so hot.

Last but not least…
Just got a call from my good friend Marina, and she’s in LABOR! So within the next 24 hours we will be welcoming a new little life into the world.. That thought always makes me smile - even on the Tuesday after a long weekend.