All I want for Christmas is a ridiculously overpriced pair of shoes.

Seriously. Is $2,000 too much to ask for the perfect boot???  The things I'd be willing to do for these shoes. OH MAN. (Alexander McQueen, the man, to be specific)  These are literally the PERFECT shoe.  Better than a man, any day.  Unless that man is very wealthy and can buy me these shoes, because I certainly could never afford them.

10 Reasons Why Shoes Are Better Than Men

• They come in pairs
• We pick their size
• They prefer to be fixed
• They always compliment us
• They wait right where we left them
• They’re returnable
• They don’t mind being cleaned up
• They like it when we “step on them”
• They always know how to make us feel better
• They don’t get jealous if we’ve had multiple shoe experiences

*** excerpt from the book Never Trust a Man in Alligator Loafer by Donna Sozio

The perfect tattoo

So it's not like I want a(nother) tattoo.  However, tonight, the WI BFF and I had a conversation that went something like this:

Top Chef in the background... "You love pork so much, you even have a tattoo of a pig!"

Me:  I want to get a tattoo of bacon sizzling.  Like right here... (points to inner thigh)
WIBFF: No you don't.  I wouldn't let you.
Me:  Yeah, I do!  And then I go on a rant about having sex and having the bacon sizzle on my legs, and from there it got weird.

So nonetheless, I'm going to get a tattoo of bacon on one of three places.  Either my inner thigh, the back of my thighs, or the bottom of my feet.  Either way, that shit be sizzlin!  And I will do this just to spite her.

Teen Angst isn't a good color on anyone.

Ahhh teen angst. In the form of vampire/werewolf/sci-fi nerdity. I am not ashamed to admit that I'm a 25 year old who has seen the Twilight and New Moon movies.

I maybe should be a little ashamed to admit that I was at the midnight opening for both? And loved it? And judged the shit out of all the 14 year olds there while WI BFF, BFF, and BFF's lil sis played suck, chuck, or fuck* while they warned me to watch my language?

Alas, I am not ashamed. I, however, haven't felt so much palpable angst in one room since the turn of the century. Since I was in high school at the turn of this century. It was not a good feeling. Ick, teen angst.

*Apparently my friends and I made up the title to this game. I think there is another name for it somewhere. Basically, pick 3 people and choose who you would marry (suck), have a one night stand with (fuck), and throw off a bridge (chuck). My friends and I are die hard romantics.

Pathetic excuse for a date

I admit, every once and awhile...

i.e. when my friends are gushing about their fantastic love lives, getting engaged, getting married, making little alien babies, and having more one night stands than Ashley furniture....

every once and awhile, I feel a little lonely.

Sometimes when this incredible bout of depression hits, I feel desperate. Enter: online dating. Best of all, I refuse to pay for this version of personal therapy, so I'm on a free site. Let's just say I will not commit to paying to go on a date because this way, I have better stories. Right? Right.

So recently, one of these little bouts of depression hit. Probably after being slighted numerous times when meeting groups of guys at the bar who would rather try to hook up with my obviously taken friends than the slutty, drunk version of me.

Anyhow, I agreed to meet this guy for happy hour in a public location so I would be heard if I screamed bloody murder. 7:30 happy hour???? Whatever, this guy doesn't have a clue about day drinking. So I agree for a Thursday night adventure. We agreed to this about a week and a half before the actual date. Then, out of nowhere he "deleted" his profile from the website - which meant I couldn't contact him to tell him it creeped me the fuck out or that I had other plans. Of course, I didn't have other plans, and my friends convinced me I should go because "what if he's the man of your dreams" or some other bullshit.

So I went, not remembering what he looked like (and not being able to do research since he deleted his profile), not having his phone number (because I have a strict "nobody gets in my phone before they get in my pants" rule), and pretty much a shitty attitude about the whole thing.

Showed up promptly at 7:20. Sat near the door until 7:30. Moved to the bar at 7:30, ordered a beer, and looked around, trying to see if there was a glimmer of recognition with any of the guys around. None. Paid for my tab at 7:40, left the bar at 7:45. I WAIT FOR NO ONE.

So yes, there you have it. I got fucking stood up by a guy whose name was "singing nerd", chose fucking Creed as his ultimate karaoke song, and was in a band that played at the Renaissance Festival. Never have I ever had such low self esteem.

And there you have it. Bitter with baggage seeks same.

Hot 100 - #24 complete!

I didn't even know what #24 was going to be, but I accomplished it this weekend.

#24 - Crash a wedding dressed as a superhero.

My friends and I dressed as the Justice League for Halloween, with Wonder Woman, Superman, Batman, and the Flash represented. We also had a cameo appearance from the Green Lantern, but he was a Michigan fan and thusly, doesn't count. The Punisher also joined during a hazy moment.

We enjoyed a night at Ghastof's in NE Minneapolis. The Friday night before Halloween, I expected costumes abundant. Nay, I tell you, we were definitely the only ones in costume for the first hour.

However, a couple was clearly celebrating their wedding reception on the dance floor at Ghastof's with 10% beer and nothing but their love to show. And I was there in a cape.

I am neurotic.

Or so says this website. I have a confession... for those of you that don't know me... I'm a little bit crazy.

I came across iamneurotic.com. After looking through some of the entries, I thought - well at least I'm not batshit crazy! I don't do THIS crazy shit!

And then I started clicking "me too!" because some started making sense. And it all went downhill from there.

Moral of the story, turns out I am a bit crazy. I posted my craziest, most neurotic tendency on this website here. I wasn't sure what I wanted out of this. Perhaps to get a ton of "me too"'s or maybe get zero so I thought I was uniquely crazy.

I got 18. And then I realized, not only am I crazy, but a shit ton of other crazies are out there in the world and I really need to watch my back (and ankles!).

I suggest you post your craziness on there just to test how nutso you are.

slumlord millionaire

Wow, guess it takes some time away to realize how much you really needed a vacation! I spent 4 days on the beach in Florida, then 3 days at Disneyworld. Totally amazing.

On Wednesday when I reveled in Animal Kingdom, Magic Kingdom, and Epcot (yes, please ask BFF just how a "vacation" should be planned out to the minute), a record temperature was set - 96 degrees, "felt like" 104 - I relished every sweating moment of it. Weather was beautiful all week.

And THEN I came home. When our plane landed, it was 50 in Minneapolis. I almost died right there. And THEN it SNOWED.

And here's my point: My slumlord of a landlord/management company has put off getting us a new heater since May. Therefore, as the company is trying to install a new heater after the first snow of the year... I must say, not thrilled about my apartment being as cold as it is outside.

F this. Anyone know Minnesota rent withholding law?

Holiday roa-ohohohohohohohohohd.

(Cue National Lampoon's Vacation music)
("Holiday Road" in case your an idiot and have no sense of human decency, having never seen this gem of culture)

I get to go on a vacation! An honest to goodness vacation! Leaving on Friday, going to Florida for a wedding. Stops include Sarasota (wedding and 4 star hotel that cost more than the entire rest of the trip combined), Clearwater (beaches, bitches, and Bacardi), and Disneyworld (fuckin Mickey Mouse!)!

I cannot wait. I'll send postcards. Send a self-addressed, stamped postcard to:

This vacation is going to look really bad on my credit report
c/o Friends that have no social tact when planning destination weddings
19990 Debt Way
Overdraft, OH (the sound I make when I see the bill) 666-8008 (haha, boob)

I could use a sugar daddy right about now. But until I get back and have to face that reality, I am going to enjoy myself and my new fake-bake tan.*

*Please note - fake baking was necessary pre-Florida. Trying to avoid 3rd degree burns and heatstroke is tough on us Anglo-Americans.

Got any English in you?

Want some?

Bad decisions afloat. But they seemed so good at the time. Let's just say a certain "Staten Island" girl may or may not have rekindled a flame with an Englishman. Or boy. He finally turned 21, so I guess he's not a boy anymore. Note to self: stop calling him kiddo. It's officially inappropriate.

Let's talk bad decisions. What about such a bad decision makes it seem so good at the time? Assessing the facts, it almost always includes:
1. Alcohol
2. Karaoke
3. Accents
4. Slimy bar patrons that must be shooed away by a knight in shining armor
5. Friends who would rather see you make a bad decision than encourage you not to
6. Having to work the next day
7. Alcohol
8. Former Flames
9. Alcohol
10. Living up to your standards of being a cougar. Or a puma, or maybe even a little tiny kitten, but nonetheless too old for this quest.

What does a bad decision look like to you?

What. A. Jackass.

Kanye, Kanye, Kanye.

Such a jackass.

No words to describe.

However, I think there are a few social media outlets that are doing a great job of continuing to make him realize how fucking dumb and rude he is. For example:
http://kanyelicio.us/





And the facebook quiz "Where will Kanye interrupt you?" http://apps.facebook.com/wherewillkanlknbjh/quiz/questions




Genius, social media. Genius.

Cyberstalking 102: When you just gotta know, ya know?

"When I meet a new person, I’m terrified of mentioning something he or she hasn’t already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking."

Following up my last post, I realized the need for very clear directions on how to stalk a facebook stranger. This is very important when you've only just met someone and aren't ready to actually ask them to be your facebook friend. Especially crucial when you've slept with someone and need to know if they are actually married, although you might not know their last name.

How to cyber stalk a non-facebook friend:

1. Simply search their full name in the search field. If you don't know their full name, don't worry. Start with what you do know. For example, if his name is JR, Search JR, J R, and J.R.

2. Scroll through every single of the 500+ possibilities until your finger gets tired of clicking next. At this point, narrow the search to a certain network, college, or city. For example, search every JR in Minneapolis/St. Paul.

• Too few results? Check out local colleges (bonus if you already know where he went to school, or can at least remember he really hated Gustavus).
• Too many results? Try multiple networks or more specific college info i.e. grad year. If you're really serious, search by High School, especially if you knew where he grew up and can narrow down his pre-college school.
• Helpful hint: Open another tab or window on your browser to begin to google any results you find that might bring you closer to the results.
  

3. Continue to search and click on every profile. Here's when you should be praying for Open Profiles so you can click through every single picture of a total stranger in order to determine if he might be the guy from the bar.

4. Have you found him yet? Not quite satistfied with the results? Think really hard to try to remember his friends names. Or his last name, or even a nickname. Grasp at straws of any recollection you can have about your time together. Because finding him is fate, and more so, serendipity. He wants you to find him.

5. Hooray! You remembered what high school he went to AND one of his friends first names!!! You recall that he was a year younger than you, so you search for the friend. Congrats - FOUND! Now, search through all his friends to find more friends from the night before, and hopefully your man you've searched high and low for. If not, never fear! Search through the friends of all the friends of the friend from the bar last night. All private profiles and no pictures? Don't worry, they have friends with open profiles. Click "View All" on the friends tab and check out all their friends, systematically check for photos of your mystery man from the night before.

• Remember that open tab you have for googling? Don't forget to google the friends' phone number you got last night in case they got lost on the way to the after bar. Silly you, I can't believe you haven't done that yet! Also key: there is a facebook search option for phone numbers.
  

6. The final step: DO NOT add them as facebook friends. Chances are, he's looking for you too! It's so important to remain mysterious, you don't want to come on too strong. Continue to check his profile (if you were lucky enough to find it) and his friends each day - if they are lucky enough to be public. If they're private, still check each day. They may some day lighten up their privacy settings. Also key: make sure your profile is semi-private. Don't want to give away too much when he finds YOU on facebook!

Cyber Stalking 101: How to take it too far

Recently saw an e-mail with some funny observations. One specifically tripped my trigger:
"Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!"

Seriously, don't mind if I DO! I find facebook stalking to be one of the most therapeutic exercises known. I have a very specific way that I do it though. Here's a step by step process of just how it goes down.
How to stalk your facebook "Friends":
1. Sign into facebook.
2. Check out your newsfeed, but skip by all the unattractive people you're friends with and go straight to looking for the people you've slept with. If they don't show up on your newsfeed, search for them and check out everything they've been doing (timestamps = BONUS!) in the 12 hours you haven't looked at their profile.
3. Be sure to also click on people's profiles whom have written on walls, commented, become friends with those because you need to know who your elementary school boyfriend's been talking to. It's your right.
4. Look through photos. Not just the photos they're tagged of, but also be sure to look through the photo albums their friends have tagged them in. What if they removed themselves from being tagged in a photo? What if you recognize a trend amongst visited establishments and conveniently show up every night?
5. Be sure to check out your own profile often. People who comment, write on walls, or "like" your shit are doing the same thing as you. Don't be that person! Do it discreetly! Nobody likes a "thumbs up" whore, because then it loses all meaning.
6. Never sign out. Constantly refresh your home page each time you go near your computer. I reccommend Mozilla Firefox's tabbing system (especially at work) so you can actually do other things while facebook stalking. A few minutes here, a few minutes there, and you can also accomplish your job! Plus, if a coworker comes over to your cube while you're in deep stalker mode, you can easily switch a tab without losing your place in your stalking by having to close the window.

Stalk on.

Abandonment Issues

My co-worker BFF had her last day at our office today. Big ups to her, as she got her new job yesterday and decided today at noon would be her last day. Our manager makes her life pretty difficult at work, and I do not fault her in any way for leaving, even though she has an event on Friday. I would have done the exact same thing. She's smart in that she is taking her last two weeks as PTO so they don't tax the shit out of giving her back her PTO time earned.

However, I'm feeling abandoned. I really don't like a lot of the rest of my co-workers, and whenever I needed a good gossip session, she was always there.

It's not like she died or anything, but it still leaves me feeling alone.

All the more reason to get the F out of here.

What do I look like, a camel?

I am amazed at the conversations people try to start with me. Sometimes I get very strange questions, such as "Can you tell me if you've ever peed off this bridge?" or questions like "How many floors are there in Sex World?". These questions always make me look a little surprised, and honestly, I always answer them. But I always think, as per my uncle Dick, "What do I look like, a camel?" What about my khakis and Rainbow Brite t-shirt screams "Yes, I want to be in this conversation with you!"

For example, I was visiting my local Tar-ghey. Mostly groceries. Nothing out of the ordinary, no pickled pigs feet or iguana eyeballs. The craziest items in my cart were very likely the Activia yogurt or strawberry milk.

So WHAT about this, or WHAT about my black sweat shorts and green "racktastic" beer pong shirt made the guy bagging my groceries actually try to hold the following conversation with me?

If I can't wear a ski mask, how come they get to wear that? - crazy Target bag boy
Huh? (looking around for some crazy kids in gothic clothing or something equally "ski-mask". Finally, see woman in burqa, and realize the kid bagging my groceries is about to launch into a conversation I will totally disagree with.) Nervous giggle. - Me
Seriously - it's racist!
More nervous giggle, quickly swipe card in an effort to move the entire transaction forward as crazy target bag boy has actually stopped bagging to hold conversation.
It's not like it's in the Torah, it's not religious, it's culture.

Well, this annoyed me and I decided the asshole (who was honestly probably 27) needed to be reminded that he was working at fucking Target and probably should have a respect for other religions, cultures, and otherwise more evolved beings on the planet. I therefore "gently" reminded him that the Muslim culture - and he was right, their religion is also a culture - used the fucking Koran and NOT THE DAMN TORAH.

And in true "old lady" fashion, I'm calling the store manager today to let them know about the crazy cashier they have, because I'm totally appalled.

Why do the crazies always find me???

Shark Week: Rocking your Face off for 22 years!

What's the eating disorder where you get fatter instead of skinnier? I think I have it, as this will be my 3rd food post in recent history. However, I'm so damn proud, I'm doing it anyway.

I made a ridiculous cake in honor of Shark Week (one of my favorite holidays) and I had to share it with the internets. Honestly, it tasted like shit because apparently you're supposed to flavor fondant. Whatever, Duff never told me that. All he ever shows is cutting the cake (which I tried to do... it sort of worked) and putting some other frosting on before the fondant. I have to admit I had no idea what fondant was until 5 pm yesterday when I decided I wanted to make this damn cake.

It was actually quite fun, but still took me 4 hours to do. I don't forsee this happening again in my future unless I quit my job and go to culinary school... which, secretly I would love to do and is my #23 thing I want to do in my life: Take a cooking class!

Peanut Butter makes the world go round

I would first and foremost like to say just how sorry I am for you if you are allergic to peanuts. Not only must eating in general suck for you, but I bet that whole "life threatening allergy" really makes you a little sad.

This summer, I spent some time with a young lady who had said allergy. We had to watch everything we ate around her, including not having peanut butter sandwiches in our lunches. It was the saddest week of my life.

Over the past few weeks, I've eaten an entire 40 oz. container of chunky peanut butter. This is averaging just under 10 ounces of PB a week. This is not abnormal consumption, by any means, on my part. However, I wanted to point out how abnormal it probably is for someone to be able to pound down a jar of peanut butter in 4 weeks. VERY abnormal. The average US consumer will eat 3 pounds of PB a year. (www.peanutbutter.com/funfacts). My jar of peanut butter is 2 lbs 8 ounces. In 1 year, I will have consumed 32.5 pounds of peanut butter. Yes, my friends. 11 times average. This makes me about 99% more likely than all other Americans to have a heart attack by the time I'm 27. How do I get to the YMCA again?

Paula's Urban Dictionary

Seems as though I use a lot of acronyms and slang in this blog, so I figured I would create a "dictionary" post I can come back to edit if I use it again.

Paula: This is my introduction to my alter-ego, Paula Rubinowitz. She's a sassy cougar from Staten Island who drinks too much. We all know we can't use real names online!! Enjoy her musings. Truthfully, my name is not Paula, I grew up in Wisconsin, and I'm maybe a puma, but not yet old enough to be a cougar. I really do drink too much, though.

BFF: Get a clue, Best Friend Forever. Normally, I'm referring to my best friend Cassafrass, whom I lived with since we were Freshmen in college at the U of M. Sometimes I use the term to sound like a moron.  **Update, this friend recently took a job in Florida aboard Disney cruise lines, so that means she started her own blog YAAAYYYYY!

WIBFF: Wisconsin Best Friend Forever. This is usually talking about my friend Katerade, or my friend Stef-o, or Amerous.  The 3 best friends that anyone ever had!  We went to high school together and pretty much all live 300 miles or more away from one another.  Except Katerade, she lives in Coon Rapids. 

Hammer: Ex. Ex-boyfriend, Ex-best friend, Ex-likes to sleep with and date my best friends. Think "Why do I keep hitting myself with this hammer?" -because it feels so good when I stop. **Update: Hammer and I officially have divorced our friendship, which really is okay.  We haven't spoken in over a year.


TNPM: The NonProfit Man. You can think of it as "The Man" trying to hold us all down. My day job. Also NPM when use of articles needs to be proper. I also work part-time for another non-profit. See The ONPM.

The ONPM: The Other NonProfit Man, my second job, part time, love it but really don't have enough time for it. Also known as "church NPM"

I like food more than my job.

As I sat home tonight watching Top Chef Masters on Bravo and truly wishing I even knew what was in a souffle, I realized how much I love food. Not that this is a life-changing realization, but I literally rushed home from church/meetings/etc. in order to watch this show. Don't get me wrong, I also love television, but it's the food factor that really gets me. Cook it, eat it, boil it, mash it, stick it in a stew. No matter how you dice it, I love food. (post soon to come: I need to get more out of my Y membership than a bill).

So my new roommate, the WIBFF, has aversions to the Food Network. I forsee this as a large problem, considering I watch it ANYTIME I get the remote. Especially at 11 or later, when you're very likely to catch Iron Chef America.

This is going to be a big problem. Without my daily dose of Rachel Ray, Alton Brown, and Bobby Flay, I might shrivel up and die of not knowing how long I should store spices before I need to throw them away! How will I know if my meal will take 30 minutes or less, and daresay, what if my prize winning mediocre tolerable egg salad doesn't get chosen for "Throwdown" because I missed the commercial for the casting call!!?!?!?!?

This is TOO much to handle.

Layoff Shmayoff

TNPM has made some drastic changes over the past few months in order to be proactive about the state of our budget. These changes included (but were not limited to) 4 furlough days, mileage reimbursement decrease, and our leadership team taking a pay cut.

Well, these changes were rolled out in March, with the promise that TNPM would keep us posted if things looked grim for the upcoming fiscal year. This past Thursday, we found out just how grim.

Looks like we're about $4.5 million dollars shy of our 2010 budget (non-profit standards require earning money one year and spending it the following year). As our "last option", this means staff cuts.

We have 350 employees in our division. Let's pretend that the average salary+benefits per employee is $60K (probably assuming low, since this would be my average, and I'm low on the totem pole). Still assuming 60K, this would be 75 employees let go. My department is the "money making" department (vs. money spending), but we're also 35% of the staff.

If this were a mathematical equation, it would look something like this:
[($4.5M/$60K)*35%]=P

Whereas P is the probability I will be FUCKED in a week and a half when we have our "big" conference call to roll out the "staffing transition". Perhaps a blessing in disguise, since I really hate my job right now. Fire me please!!!!

Okay, maybe not really... but what better opportunity to look for a new job like my life depends on it. Because it does.

Hot #22

Check one off my list! I finally have snuck into a movie!!!!! Saw (and paid for) Transformers 2 last night, then went right on into The Proposal. Both were great, and I feel very good because I at least paid for 1, plus $16 of popcorn and diet coke.

So now #22 of the hot 100:
#22: Take a class and actually understand how to fix my own car. I'm not just talking about how to change my own oil - I mean let's get down and dirty with timing belts and mufflers. I'm so sick of feeling like I got fucked big time by the mechanic. See Dane Cook routine:

Dane Cook: "Mechanics are always trying to screw you. I went to have my car's oil changed and when I came to pick it up, the mechanic was like: Yeah. We had to replace the roof on your car because it was peeling off. It was ashamed of the rest of the car and was trying to get away. Oh and we also found a tiny unicorn in your muffler. It was jumping around and poking holes in the exhaust. He was also shitting in your filters.
Oh great. That's amazing, a tiny mythological creature in my muffler. Shitting in my filters? That bastard. $7,000? That's about what I expected to pay for those services. Thank you so much."

Another sad day on TMZ.com

The King of Pop and Farrah Fawcett both passed away today. I heard on the radio that Farrah got "death bumped" and I felt guilty because I laughed.

And then I thought to myself, "Self, knock it off with the guilt. MJ was a much bigger celeb than Farrah and you shouldn't feel bad that the world is capitalizing on one death over the other."

So that's all I have to say about that. I have been excited to hear the Michael Jackson "mega mixes" on KDWB though - nothing says car dance party like Man in the Mirror meets Will you Be There (which by the way was my first tape).

The "come to Jesus" moment

Just returned from a fabulous week with 400 13-year olds in Michigan. Long story short - one of TNPM (refresher - The Non-Profit Man - in this case, Men) that I work for is a church. I took 6 kids from my youth group on a mission trip to repair houses. It was fabulous for the following reasons:
1. I got to take a week and a half off work from the other NPM!
2. I had my first 15 passenger van driving experience. Let's just say we all survived.
3. I really love doing things like fixing houses. Who knew I could be such a savant with a skillsaw and a chalkline?

It was mediocre for the following reasons:
1. I got stressed out about not being at the other NPM.
2. The other adult chaperones and youth leaders on the trip thought I was in high school for most of it and I even got yelled at a few times for driving the van. Because they thought I was a kid. (trust me, this does not make sense, I look 30 at 25.)
3. I had a "come to Jesus" moment. This is not really a religious thing - more of a "make it or break it", "fight or flight", "shit or get off the pot" kind of thing. It wasn't a specific moment, so much as today I looked back on the week and that I have to go back to real work tomorrow and I cried because I can't handle another 70 hour work week.

Basically, I've started to resent the full time NPM gig. I truly love the org I work for, but I am really dreading the rest of this summer.
I only do the church NPM work about 10 hours per week. I'm really not sure if I'm ready to leave the full time stuff, but I feel as though my ulcers and migraines are begging me to make a change. I really like what I do at the church, but not sure if I could do it full time.

So here I am in my "come to Jesus" moment. Time for some decision making. Can someone please be in charge of my life decisions for a bit? A "life leash" if you will?

technology might be the end of us all

At work, we use a fabulous invention called "the internet". Along with this invention came one of my favorite programs, "Lotus Notes". For those of you not in the know, Lotus Notes is an e-mail/calendar server that helps me keep my life organized and just barely keeps me below the stalking threshold when investigating why my boss is once again an hour late to work. (Shared calendar function - YAY!)

The problem with this "technology" is simply the calendar function. Aside from the 1000+ unread e-mails I have (relax, I just have a problem deleting - too much committment), the calendar helps me keep on top of my "to do list". Literally. You can send "to-do's" to support staff with requests for projects. You can send "to-do's" to interns asking for their feedback. You can even send "to-do's" to yourself with ongoing task lists. Then, these scary green checkmarks will follow you each day on your calendar until you "Mark complete". Heaven forbid you don't complete something on time, and the check mark turns into a big red exclamation point that haunts your dreams.

I think I've discovered the source of my stress - these damn check marks. I get stressed out if I see one on my calendar. I get stressed out if I don't see one, thinking, "What am I missing?" I get stressed out when the check mark turns into punctuation!

So my solution? NO MORE TECHNOLOGY.

I am leaving to take kids from church on a churchy trip to Michigan in a few days, so my "to-do" list has gotten quite expansive. Perhaps I won't be so stressed when I return.

Drowning in sorrow and Miller Lite

My beloved Brewers were swept this weekend. I drank a lot.

Also, my parents, sister, and future brother-in-law joined in the fun of a weekend of losses with the Brew Crew.

Which brings me to the point:
Loving loved ones' loved ones? Do we have to like our loved ones significant others? My sister has been dating C. for nearly 6 years. They bought a house together 4 years ago. I really think he's obnoxious and rude. (Coincidentally, WI BFF's boyfriend said he could easily be my brother because we're so much alike.)

So what is the obligation to love, like, or even tolerate our loved ones significant others? They are getting married in just over a year, so it looks like I'm stuck with him. At this point, I basically can continue to tolerate him and be snide after a few cocktails, or I can somehow actually open up to him and maybe understand why he won't let anyone finish a thought. Fight or Flight, Sink or Swim, Shit or Get off the Pot time.

The tough thing is that since I spend such a short amount of time with him, and so infrequently, due to the 300 miles between us, that when I do see him, I'm annoyed solely that he is there being rude during the time with my family that I also rarely get to see. Maybe that's the real issue at hand: Is it possible to resent someone for trying to join the family? Fact: he is rude. However, maybe that's what it really is about - me just being pissed that he's "taking away" my big sister.

Oh goodness I need therapy.

WikiWHAT?

Being a generation Y'er, I look for all life's solutions on the internet. Need a new job? Go to careerbuilder.com. Need a new roommate? Go to Craigslist (especially if you want your new roommate to murder you in your sleep!). Need to know something about your current ailment and/or stalker? Google that shit.

Now that I'm a little older and wiser than my previous life as a college undergrad, I now know not to trust WebMD to diagnose me with anything other than pregnancy or cancer (I was convinced I had cancer at least 14 times in my undergrad). I also know, working for TNPM, being a very specific national health organization, that people should rely on the experts for information. (for example, DONT go to WebMD if you seriously think you have cancer. Go to your f-ing doctor or at least visit a website that doesn't cite wikipedia).

Here's where I find my beef. I have had a migraine for 3 days. Of course, I googled "migraine" today at work when I could barely open my eyes wide enough to read the computer screen. I wasn't sure what I wanted for google results - but wikipedia was not on the top of my list. Yet, there it was under the two sponsored results for Tylenol and babysitting service (get it - migraine causes? haha I jest.) People are not a smart race, so I hereby petition that google puts some sort of "dumbass filter" on their search engine. For example, if you see that my past google history includes "donkey punch" and "cyborg mating", up goes the dumbass filter, so I am automatically routed to accredited informational websites. If I'm googling "neurophysics" and "grant applications", no need for the dumbass filter. You can probably rest assured that I'll be able to resist clicking Wikipedia and will look for the mayo clinic website.

Clarification from the Hot 100

I have decided I should probably clarify why I want to do some of the things I want to do... so here's a glimpse into my crazy head:
1. Sneak into a "double feature" movie - and only pay for one!
I really want to do this simply because I love movies. I love crappy movies, sad movies, chick flicks, monster flicks, and porn. If I can get 2 for the price of 1 - my question is, why haven't I yet?
2. Have sex in a church. I grew up Catholic and I think I had my first kiss in a confessional. Not with a Priest, but with some boy from my grade school. I'm not atheist, but I might be a bit of an exhibitionist. If the church has a balcony, even better.
3. Stand up in a wedding. I need to be able to say I've done this once in my life. And I get to next summer, provided I don't kill my sister's fiance first.
4. Win an eating contest. I'm a big girl, and this would just be the ultimate showdown of my life. I am confident I can do an eating contest - but win? Yikes, that's intense. Maybe I should change it to "enter an eating contest", but technically I was in an eating contest 6 years ago. And I almost puked up Totino's Pizza Rolls, but so worth it.
5. Visit Ireland. I'm 50% Irish and there is a mountain apparently named after my family in some town with the Horkans.
6. Swim with sharks in South Africa. For those of you that don't know me, I am totally, weirdly obsessed with Shark Week. If I could call in sick for the entirety of the week (although all the shows are at night), I would in a heartbeat. And we all know why people watch shark shows. I want to see blood and guts, and preferably a human be eaten alive. As swimming with Great Whites is a dream of mine, and shark cages really don't do anything - Mindy, you're right, I should probably put this last on my list. Why South Africa? Ever heard of AIR JAWS???? You can borrow my VHS. Then you can come over for my "blood red" velvet cake during my Shark Week Party. There are also pigs in a blanket.
7. Tour the pyramids. Also, very strange obsession with Egypt/mummies/Middle Eastern religion. Nothing like sharks, but anytime I can catch a documentary on King Tut, I'm all ears.
8. Skydive. This would easily be one of my biggest fears of all time (terrified of heights). If I can put that fear aside for just a few seconds, I imagine it would be quite a thrill.
9. Bungee jump. Similar thought process.
10. Own a house. Nothing says "I'm a big bad grown up" like a mortgage!
11. Do stand-up comedy. I think I'm hilarious, so other people probably will, right?
12. Be on a radio or TV show about something other than work. Preferably Conan, SNL, or Orpah rather than Maury.
13. Go to Rome/the Vatican. And sneak into the Vatican Archives and not get killed (nerd alert!) Read Angels and Demons. And be Catholic. You'll get it.
14. Write a children's book. I had to write one in 8th grade and it was tons of fun. I really think I miss being a kid.
15. See an SNL taping. One of the best show on earth, as long as you haven't seen it after 2001 or before the Andy Samberg era.
16. Get certified in ASL translation. Took classes for 3 years, LOVED IT. Too bad I'm such a talker, and the Deaf professors always kicked me out. What a great way to enter into a new culture!
17. GET A NEW JOB. I hate my current job. It is a succubus.
18. See the Northern Lights. If I can't go to space (I think the fear of heights might be WAY much for that), why not bring space to me, i.e. solar flares?
19. See Stonehenge. Again, strange obsession with pagan religions... OR ALIENS!
20. Have a non-life-threatening parasite and poop it out. Just to say, "Oh you went to Jenny Craig? Well I have a tapeworm. 45 pounds in 3 weeks!" I would just really like to say that I had a parasite, I feel like it would be a very cool story. Maybe I'll just start telling people I had one. I watch enough Grey's Anatomy to figure it out!
21. Go on an archaeological dig and find something awesome. Nerd alert - love dinosaurs. LOVE them. I am so excited for the new Land of the Lost, I can barely contain myself from watching the trailer over and over again at work. Not to mention that Hulu.com just recently posted all episodes of LotL.

Blog vs. Diary

So I've actually shared this blog with my WI BFF recently. Actually, she's the first person I've ever shared it with. (shout out Kate!) And actually, she might be the only person still who has ever read it.

Which brings me to the discussion: If I cut a tree down in the woods, but actually the tree was in my woods and no one is allowed on my property, and actually I didn't even tell anyone where I lived, did I really cut down a tree or did I just landscape? Similarly, if I write a blog, and I don't tell anyone about it or share it - is it really a blog? Or is it just an internet diary?

The latter I find quite ridiculous, since the last time I had a "diary"... I was 13 and I'm pretty sure I wrote about how I would punch Emily in the face if she told Dan I liked him. And this blog is much less violent.

Maybe I should make this blog actually about something, rather than just my rambling rantings. Alas - NOT a diary.

Fur... LOW.

I have a 12 hour rule with work. If I get home at 10 pm, I am not allowed to be back to the office until after 10 am.

Guess how often I follow my own rule.

Let's just also be aware that TNPM has no written policy on "flex time" (as most companies don't - real world folks.) However, I will complain for just a minute... My average work day is 14 hours long. 4 days a week (Fridays are usually the typical 8 hours, unless I have an event - i.e. 26 hours). Not to mention my second job, where I generally do 10 hours on Saturday and/or Sunday, but that doesn't count.


So TNPM has instituted 4 furlough days this year. I totally get it. I would much rather have 4 unpaid days than to see any of my coworkers (or me, yikes) laid off. The problem is, when you work for an entity such as TNPM, a day without working or getting paid for it pretty much sets you back a day, and you wind up working those 8 hours in somewhere else because shit's gotta get done, but not getting paid because you're on salary. And like I'm really going to tell my volunteer who calls my cell phone at 9 am that I am on furlough and can't talk because I'm not getting paid. F that noise.

However, this weekend, I will not be answering phone calls from volunteers. NAY - the Brewers are in town and my folks are visiting for the game! I fully intend on showing them the awesomeness that is the MSP. Sans life-interrupting phone calls.

Ah yes, and I survived the big 2-5. I also kept my dignity, which is huge these days.

Complete Hot 100 list

1. Sneak into a "double feature" movie - and only pay for one! 
2. Have sex in a church.
3. Stand up in a wedding (I get to accomplish this next summer!)
4. Win an eating contest.
5. Visit Ireland.
6. Swim with sharks in South Africa.
7. Tour the pyramids.
8. Skydive.
9. Bungee jump.
10. Own a house.
11. Do stand-up comedy.
12. Be on a radio or TV show about something other than work.
13. Go to Rome/the Vatican. And sneak into the Vatican Archives and not get killed (nerd alert!)
14. Write a children's book.
15. See an SNL taping.
16. Get certified in ASL translation.
17. GET A NEW JOB.
18. See the Northern Lights.
19. See Stonehenge.
20. Have a non-life-threatening parasite and poop it out. (I'm not saying this is all cool stuff, its just to say I've done it!)
21. Go on an archaeological dig and find something awesome.
22. Take a class and actually understand how to fix my own car.
23. Take a cooking class!
24. Crash a wedding dressed as a superhero


Bold items = done and done!

Quarter of a Century

I turn 25 this week. WOW.

I honestly never expected this to bother me so much. Maybe not so much the fact that I will be 25, but maybe the fact that I feel like I haven't accomplished a damn thing in my life. I've officially lived for a quarter of a century and really don't have anything to show for it.

It's not that I haven't "done" anything. (I haven't.) I think it's that I haven't done anything that merits another 25 years. I don't want to waste oxygen or anything like that for someone who might actually get stuff done in this world.

So I've decided to start a "top 100" list of things I want to accomplish in my life. Not a bucket list, since that's pretty damn morbid.
In no particular order, here goes:
1. Sneak into a "double feature" movie - and only pay for one! (See, I really haven't done much).
2. Have sex in a church.
3. Stand up in a wedding (I get to accomplish this next summer!)
4. Win an eating contest.
5. Visit Ireland.
6. Swim with sharks in South Africa.
7. Tour the pyramids.
8. Skydive.
9. Bungee jump.
10. Own a house.
11. Do stand-up comedy.

I'll keep these coming as my years start to collapse on me.

Favre, you used to be my God.

Brett Favre, you fucking suck. The entire state of Wisconsin and some loyal fans outside the Cheddar Walls built you, you fuck. Remember when you threatened to retire after 1997's big Super Bowl win? I do. Broke my heart, but I remember, as much as a 7th grader can, thinking - good for you. Go out in style. Remember when you threatened to retire a few years later, after your dad passed away? We were right there with you. Remember when you cheated on your cancer survivor wife and we still loved you? Do you remember when you came out as being addicted to pain killers and we said, "At least it's not coke?" DO YOU REMEMBER?

And then, you finally did it. You really retired. We were so proud to have had you, and so sad to let you go. But we knew you needed to do it. Spend time with the family. Endorse shit. Spread the love. Ohhh but then you came back out of retirement. We wouldn't have you. This is like the story of the boy who cried. Not cried wolf, just cried, "I'm a little bitch, and you need me. So you'll have me or I'll show you!" With the Jets? Really, you tried to show us with the Jets. Well lookie here bucko - sure, they had a great season with you, but Rogers rocked Lambeau. We can survive without you.

Now, one year henceforth, you're pulling the same old shit again. The Vikings are wooing you, and even they know that its a grudge match in the end. You're starting to seem like the dirty cousin who just got out of rehab and needs $1,000 to pay his rent/car payment/ coke habit. And the Vikings are going to loan the cash, because they really think you've got your shit together this time. And you can throw the shit out of a football, and lord knows they need you.

All I can say is, if I see the number 4 on a purple jersey... I don't care who's wearing it, they're going up in flames.

Swine Flu?

Are we facing a crazy world epidemic? Nothing strikes fear into the hearts of dirty rednecks like closing down international borders! So the Swine Flu is all the rage these days, and, I'll say it - I'm totally into it. Not into the kids dying in third world countries into it, because that would just be cruel. No, rather, I'm into thinking I could see a live, syndicated version of Outbreak, sans monkeys, plus pork.

They tell us its okay to still eat "the other white meat", just like you can't get chicken pox from eating the delicious hot wings at the Cedar Inn.

My bet? Not that big of a deal. I base this solely on Wolf Blitzer's comment, "Will the Swine Flu truly impact society? Discussion when we return. Here's a hint: no!"

Hard work does pay off!

I had a big fundraising event this weekend. I mean BIG. I'm in charge of raising $1/2 million, and this event was goaled to raise $176,000. Needless to say, the volunteers I work with are AWESOME. We've been working our butts off since September to pull it off, and it was hugely successful - $191,000 and counting.

Looking back, having a meeting every single Sunday night, getting phone calls and text messages on Tuesday nights at 10 pm from volunteers, or having printing requests on Saturday nights at 7 - it could frustrate a girl. However, honestly I would bend over backwards for these kids because they make my job so much easier.

My co-workers don't let me forget that this event is, year after year, incredibly successful. Not necessarily in a congratulatory way, but in an "I can't believe your volunteers are so great and you must not do anything" kind of way. It pisses me off, especially knowing that I've literally given up every single Sunday during their Spring semester, sans Easter, to have a meeting. And that I had to up my text messages because thats how "kids" communicate.

PS these "kids" are in college - but they're kids to me because I've known so many of them since they were freshmen. And they're graduating this year. Talk about making a girl feel old.

Anyhow, I'm feeling contemplative about the rest of my events sucking balls. Wish some of these kids would graduate and move to middle of nowhere Minnesota to help me out there.

No, Cubs NO!

I had the amazing privilege of going home to Milwaukee this weekend for Brewers opening day. Well, technically I went on "second opening day". Some douchebag in the scheduling department has made some egregious errors and scheduled opening weekend as the Cubs' Series. Seriously? Let's talk economics here. I know I was only a measly Liberal Arts student, but even I get the importance of allowing stupid Cubs' fans to come spend their money in Milwaukee. Opening Day is historically the biggest ticket sales day of the year, with the Cubs series a close second. Why would you combine two huge money making events into one? NOT to mention that the Twins/Brewers Series is scheduled for a Tuesday-Thursday. Guess they just lost my ticket sale, there is no way I can come back for game during the middle of the week.

Regardless - Opening Day was impossible to get tickets for. So Leff's had their world-famous tailgate party on "Second Opening Day". Hot mess, says I. The game was at 6 pm, which means the 1 pm drinking start time was SUPER.

And today - Easter Sunday. Hallelujia, Christ is Risen and I haven't thrown up. I seriously thought about it. I even skipped church. Mom was proud. I told her God didn't want me in church if I was still drunk.
Then, I made it to South Central Wisconsin (relax, Dad drove my car) without dying and got to take a nap. Then, my young cousins got to learn a lesson in overindulging in beer from their much older, wiser cousin as I walked around with a Diet Coke cooling my head all afternoon.

I survived the drive back to Minnesota too. Didn't even puke once.

So proud.

Ouch.

I forgot to mention that I joined the Y on February 28th. Ouch. However, I've worked out more in the past month than I have in the past 6 years - not joking.

I'm so out of shape, it's sad. My 100 pound weight fluctuation is starting to freak me, my parents, and my friends out, so I decided it was time to take care of it.

I have decided that I can afford the $60 month if I stop eating fast food (also will be better for me) and if I try to bring my lunch to work more often.

Next step: Find a zero calorie beer.

Cruisin'

When I bought my new (to me) car back in December, I was just so excited at the idea of taking on bigger responsibility with another loan actually owning something the bank owning me for the next 5 years, and inevitably the rest of my life. Well, in my excitement, I test drove a 2009 version of the car I planned to buy. LOVED IT, and they assured me the cars were the same, just the 2009 version (vs. 2007) had satellite radio - like I need that, I have enough voices in my head, I don't need the Cafferty Files going on in there too.

Anyhow, I came back 2 days later, check from the bank in hand, ready to sign over my life. So I saw my new love of my life in the parking lot and got really excited. The guy (not sleazy at all, seriously), expected me to sign over the second I walked in the door. I think my dad was a little floored when I said, "Uh - no, can I please test drive the car first?" because normally I'm assertive, but not normally just an outright bitch. So we hopped in the car, and jumped on an on-ramp to the freeway. I reached down to click the cruise control button... and reached... and took my eyes off the road to check where it was. Hint: not there. No cruise control!!! I was livid. "The exact same, but no satellite radio" my ass. Honestly, I wouldn't have been so ticked if I didn't already have a check from the bank for the exact amount of the car, plus the loan had been done on the VIN number for that car.

Anyhow, long story short, I was fuming when I got back to the dealership. They decided they would cut me a deal - they would have cruise control installed at dealer price ($300 vs $700) and I would pay half ($150). I said I could deal with that. Since I bought my car in Milwaukee, I needed to have the CC installed in the Cities, so I finally just got it taken care of today. It is AWESOME.

I know what you're thinking, cruise control is the lazy man's driver, but I drive SO much for work, and to visit Milwaukee. I've put on 8,000 miles on this car since I bought it in December (and lied to my insurance company about it too!), so cruise control is vital.

And I'll leave you with this:

Luck O' the Irish!

WHAT A TIME! 7th annual St. Paul St. Patty's Day Pub Crawl commenced. Mind you, I haven't even been of legal age to drink for 7 years, but this was indeed my 3rd year on the crawl. And - big news - the first year I've actually stayed out until bar close.

The point here, friends, is that the pub crawl starts at 11 am. 14 hours later, I got home.

Friends and I woke up early on Sunday - starving. Jimmy John's did not open until 11, but you better believe they had an online order waiting for them, circa 10:15 am. I almost hugged the poor high school senior when he delivered it to me. My BFF was very excited that she could finally prove that someone else lived in the house, not just her and her Turkey Tom, no tomatoes but with cucumbers.

However, pre-Jimmy John's - the WIBFF (Wisconsin Best Friend Forever) started talking about her boyfriend throwing up the night before. Yes, I was hungover, but this definitely didn't bother me. Even when she talked about how he threw up on her. However - then she mentioned brushing her teeth, and I immediately gagged. Just the thought of shoving something down my throat seriously made my mouth all hot and wet (and not in the good way, but in the I'm going to throw up and if you're in my way I won't hesitate to throw up on you way) and I had to rush to the bathroom to get it all out.

This would be the first time I've puked from drinking in 2009. Brava. This would be the 3rd time I've puked from drinking in my life. However, I puke swallowing pills and thinking about brushing my teeth, or even just thinking about puking or thinking about brushing my teeth. Just writing this is making me gag a little.

Maybe I need to see a therapist.

Plus the big stupid fundraiser this past week is done, and now I can move on with my life... until I have to continue it this week at HCMC.

Just keep swimming...

Or running, or staying awake and not falling asleep at your desk because you've worked 3 - 16 hour days in a row and are so distracted by work that you fall asleep thinking about it, dream about it, wake up thinking about it, and think about it in the shower to the point of being so distracted you wash your hair twice because you can't remember if you already washed it.

I've decided to take control. I'm going to get back into reading trashy romance novels before bed so that, at the very least, my dreams can still be my own. And Lucky Stetson, the Texan who will be visiting my dreams after I'm done with the next book.

So far its working really well. My blood pressure is down, I don't want to kill my boss, I don't care that my cubicle is outrageously messy, and I am not grinding my teeth in my sleep.

Let's hope it keeps up through the busy summer of work.

Big 10 in 09.

I really need to commit more to this stuff. Here's everything that has happened with me over the past year:
1. Have been working at a Lutheran church for about a year and 3 months. I'm Catholic. My mom thinks this is funny, but also I think she's a little sad about it.
2. Still single.
3. Went to a plastic surgeon to have a consultation done for a breast reduction. Insurance has denied the claim. Awesome, I'll continue with the back problems and see how they feel about it then.
4. Hammer broke up with HJ. Hammer and I had a big blow out fight in September because I was paranoid that he was trying to sleep with BFF. Turns out I was right. Tried to keep being friends - haven't talked to him in a month. Bummer.
5. BFF turned 25. Yikes. I'm next.
6. Have officially worked for The Non-Profit Man (TNPM) for over 2 years - but also found out I am a job grade lower than all my coworkers, even though I have the highest income portfolio. Awesome.
7. My big sister got engaged! Yay!!! She asked me to be the maid of honor!
8. Successfully finished a fiscal year with the TNPM and only missed my financial goal by $7K. Less than 4% away - not too shabby!
9. Had a volleyball team with my co-workers and friends. Found out I am no good at volleyball.
10. Bought a new car! Well, new to me. No rust, very exciting.

That's about it.