Stay-cation, I suppose...I am in the middle of an unprecedented five days off from work. I had three weeks of vacation this year (one purchased) plus a floating holiday that needed to be used during 2009 and only two weeks of actual vacations (LAX/Vegas and the cruise) planned. In August Ryan and I went to the Fantasuites to stay in the moon room, so I guess that counted as a mini-vacation. And the rest I had left over, so I took it this week and planned nothing. And honestly, it's been great.
So far:
Tuesday night: Stayed up late playing video games (I now have my own Lego Batman villain)
Wednesday: Slept in, went to Grandmas to almost finish the planet quilt, went to Ikea, played for church, stayed up late playing video games).
Thursday: Slept in, went to the casino buffet with Ryan, went to the fabric store, came home, removed pants, cleaned the kitchen, started making felt food (this is the earliest I've started Christmas presents), stayed up late watching TV.
Friday: Slept in, never put pants on in the first place, watched TV and worked on the felt food. When Ryan gets off work we may go to the giant Menards in St. Paul.
And I don't even know what I'm going to do over the weekend. I have to say, this taking time off and doing nothing is pretty amazing. I may have to do it more often.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Of Bras
I am not a fan of bras. Don't get me wrong, they can do some amazing things to the ol' A-and-a-half cups, but on the whole I find them uncomfortable and unnecessary and awful. And here's the worst part: I'm terrible with the hooks. Can't take them on or off to save my life. I have to flip my bras upside-down and inside-out, do the hooks in front of my body, flip the bra up, scoot it around my chest, and put my arms through the straps. And then at night (afternoon, when I get home from work, who am I kidding) to take it off I do the opposite.
Yes, Internet, I have the same level of bra expertise as the average 16-year-old boy. Except that I get to touch boobs all the time and they are AWESOME.
So yesterday I was at Target on my lunch break and wandered into the intimates area, where I saw a clearance rack full of bras. I try to avoid shopping for bras as much as possible, because 1, see above, and 2, when you're in a stable long-term relationship you can get away with wearing nasty old bras. But some of the old nasty bras I own are literally falling apart, so I decided that I could suck it up and buy some deeply discounted bras on my paid lunch break. Seemed like a best-case scenario.
I pulled a bra of the rack to examine it. Hmmm, no hooks. Must have a clasp on the front. Sure enough, there it was, a round metal one in between the cups. I twisted both sides, assuming it was some sort of elaborate hooking mechanism. Nothing happened. I twisted some more. Still nothing. I grabbed the top and bottom of the clasp and twisted them in opposite directions, thinking maybe it was a screw. The bra remained intact.
Panic and frustration started to set in. "Come on, Naomi," I thought, "you can do this. You are NOT a 16 year old boy!" I grabbed my boob to reassure myself of this fact. Once more I grabbed the bra by the cups, and in a fit of rage, pulled. The bra opened. The clasp, as it turned out, was actually a snap.
A snap. A simple, freaking snap. You guys, I have had breasts for at least a decade now (late bloomer)....why is this the first time I have seen something like this? This is genius! This is...THE BEST BRA I HAVE EVER OWNED.
Oh yes, I bought it. And oh yes, I am wearing it now. And if I didn't want to be wearing it, just give me half a second and - poof - no bra! This will shave close to 10 seconds off my morning routine. That adds up; I wear a bra almost every single day. I may have to go back and buy more. Although, icing on the cake, this bra, this already freaking awesome bra, is REVERSIBLE. Green on one side, white with multicolored stars on the other. It's like I already have two!
Target, I know I say this every time I visit, but you are the best. For real. Thank you for your amazing, comfortable, easy-to-wear, clearance bra. It has changed my life.
Yes, Internet, I have the same level of bra expertise as the average 16-year-old boy. Except that I get to touch boobs all the time and they are AWESOME.
So yesterday I was at Target on my lunch break and wandered into the intimates area, where I saw a clearance rack full of bras. I try to avoid shopping for bras as much as possible, because 1, see above, and 2, when you're in a stable long-term relationship you can get away with wearing nasty old bras. But some of the old nasty bras I own are literally falling apart, so I decided that I could suck it up and buy some deeply discounted bras on my paid lunch break. Seemed like a best-case scenario.
I pulled a bra of the rack to examine it. Hmmm, no hooks. Must have a clasp on the front. Sure enough, there it was, a round metal one in between the cups. I twisted both sides, assuming it was some sort of elaborate hooking mechanism. Nothing happened. I twisted some more. Still nothing. I grabbed the top and bottom of the clasp and twisted them in opposite directions, thinking maybe it was a screw. The bra remained intact.
Panic and frustration started to set in. "Come on, Naomi," I thought, "you can do this. You are NOT a 16 year old boy!" I grabbed my boob to reassure myself of this fact. Once more I grabbed the bra by the cups, and in a fit of rage, pulled. The bra opened. The clasp, as it turned out, was actually a snap.
A snap. A simple, freaking snap. You guys, I have had breasts for at least a decade now (late bloomer)....why is this the first time I have seen something like this? This is genius! This is...THE BEST BRA I HAVE EVER OWNED.
Oh yes, I bought it. And oh yes, I am wearing it now. And if I didn't want to be wearing it, just give me half a second and - poof - no bra! This will shave close to 10 seconds off my morning routine. That adds up; I wear a bra almost every single day. I may have to go back and buy more. Although, icing on the cake, this bra, this already freaking awesome bra, is REVERSIBLE. Green on one side, white with multicolored stars on the other. It's like I already have two!
Target, I know I say this every time I visit, but you are the best. For real. Thank you for your amazing, comfortable, easy-to-wear, clearance bra. It has changed my life.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
A little bit about the future
Burlesque, by the way, is awesome. People see you naked and they cheer! How liberating must that be? I am hooked. In the spring, when I have time, I will be taking classes.
Right now I'm in my editing class. Taking a break, so you'll understand if there are errors in this post. Some quick background: Technical Communication is my fourth major. I hope it will be my last. Writing, as it turns out, is awesome. I think that's something I used to know, but I had forgotten. When I was little, I wanted to be a flight attendant. I actually wanted to be a writer, but I officially wanted to be a flight attendant so I could A., have a steady job, and B, have a built-in source of inspiration in all of the new people I'd meet and places I'd go.
I was a very practical child.
Anyway I am in Editing, which, as it turns out, is even more awesome than the writing itself. Writing is fun; writer's block is not. Having to come up with something creative and interesting and readable on a deadline is not. I'm sure this is something that gets easier with time and practice, but I am all about instant gratification, and I'm good at editing now. Plus, I'm a very process-oriented person. Writing is never done; you can always improve everything. Editing, I suppose, is similar, but there is a discernable end most of the time - this letter is completely free of spelling and grammatical errors; that article completely follows AP style guidelines, etc. I like fixing things, and I have known almost since I first learned to read that there is no end to the writing that needs to be fixed.
So this is the plan, for now:
1. Keep editing
2. Earn this degree
3. Save the world, one comma splice at a time.
Right now I'm in my editing class. Taking a break, so you'll understand if there are errors in this post. Some quick background: Technical Communication is my fourth major. I hope it will be my last. Writing, as it turns out, is awesome. I think that's something I used to know, but I had forgotten. When I was little, I wanted to be a flight attendant. I actually wanted to be a writer, but I officially wanted to be a flight attendant so I could A., have a steady job, and B, have a built-in source of inspiration in all of the new people I'd meet and places I'd go.
I was a very practical child.
Anyway I am in Editing, which, as it turns out, is even more awesome than the writing itself. Writing is fun; writer's block is not. Having to come up with something creative and interesting and readable on a deadline is not. I'm sure this is something that gets easier with time and practice, but I am all about instant gratification, and I'm good at editing now. Plus, I'm a very process-oriented person. Writing is never done; you can always improve everything. Editing, I suppose, is similar, but there is a discernable end most of the time - this letter is completely free of spelling and grammatical errors; that article completely follows AP style guidelines, etc. I like fixing things, and I have known almost since I first learned to read that there is no end to the writing that needs to be fixed.
So this is the plan, for now:
1. Keep editing
2. Earn this degree
3. Save the world, one comma splice at a time.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Of Pasties
Oh, hello Blog. Allow me to mumble a half-assed apology for not remembering you existed. Work, school, life....Google account, computer....alright good. That could have been awkward.
Tonight I'm going to see a burlesque show. Yes! Why? It started last week. I was at Heather's apartment getting ready to go out for Halloween. We were all dressed up and ready to go, and I don't remember what we were talking about, but I blurted out "You know, I've never told anyone this before, but I've always wanted to be a burlesque dancer." Maybe it was the half bottle of Summit making its way through my compressed digestive system, or maybe you just reach a certain level of intimacy with a person after they've stood behind you long enough to lace up a corset. I can't say for sure. But she said, "So do I! We should take classes!" Unexpected! But, I figured, she's right! Why not?
So tonight we're going to see a burlesque show. It's Phase 2 of our research (Phase 1 was spending most of yesterday afternoon on Etsy looking at corsets and pasties). I figure it can go one of two ways. Either I will be so intimidated by seeing the real thing that I will never want to even think about burlesque again, or I'll decide I have to do it, because I could do at least as good a job as the performers did. I'm thinking it will probably be the latter - I saw a performance years ago, and I was pretty drunk, but from what I recall all the woman did was shimmy around on stage and take most of her clothes off. She wasn't even that skinny. If that's all there is to it, there's no way I could fail. Kinda chunky girls taking most of their clothes off? Around here, we call that getting home from work! All I need to learn to do is not stop midway through to eat a sandwich (maybe there's a way to incorporate that into the act? I don't know; that's what the classes are for).
Tonight I'm going to see a burlesque show. Gonna try something new. This should be fun.
Tonight I'm going to see a burlesque show. Yes! Why? It started last week. I was at Heather's apartment getting ready to go out for Halloween. We were all dressed up and ready to go, and I don't remember what we were talking about, but I blurted out "You know, I've never told anyone this before, but I've always wanted to be a burlesque dancer." Maybe it was the half bottle of Summit making its way through my compressed digestive system, or maybe you just reach a certain level of intimacy with a person after they've stood behind you long enough to lace up a corset. I can't say for sure. But she said, "So do I! We should take classes!" Unexpected! But, I figured, she's right! Why not?
So tonight we're going to see a burlesque show. It's Phase 2 of our research (Phase 1 was spending most of yesterday afternoon on Etsy looking at corsets and pasties). I figure it can go one of two ways. Either I will be so intimidated by seeing the real thing that I will never want to even think about burlesque again, or I'll decide I have to do it, because I could do at least as good a job as the performers did. I'm thinking it will probably be the latter - I saw a performance years ago, and I was pretty drunk, but from what I recall all the woman did was shimmy around on stage and take most of her clothes off. She wasn't even that skinny. If that's all there is to it, there's no way I could fail. Kinda chunky girls taking most of their clothes off? Around here, we call that getting home from work! All I need to learn to do is not stop midway through to eat a sandwich (maybe there's a way to incorporate that into the act? I don't know; that's what the classes are for).
Tonight I'm going to see a burlesque show. Gonna try something new. This should be fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)