Kitten a Go-Go

Miss me?

In the past two days, I have remarked to two women in my life (oddly, both named after animals) that I am trying to figure out where this blog fits in.  What I really mean is that I miss this blog.  I have spent so much time focused on The Frugal Lawyer that this blog doesn't get a whole lotta love.  I never really meant for that to happen.  We haven't drifted apart.  I think I have found ways to morph the content that would normally be meant for this blog onto TFL.  I never meant for TFL to represent my entire life.  That was supposed to be about my financial life.  

This has always been about me.  But for a long time, this blog became overrun by my health.  Honestly, I'm tired of talking about it.  I have fibromyalgia.  I have hypothyroidism.  I am plagued with self-esteem issues due to my weight.  Blah blah blah.  I'm tired of writing about the same things all of the time.  I don't fit into all of these tiny little boxes.

Sort of how I'm starting to feel exhausted writing about my financial life all of the time on TFL.  I'm not going to stop writing on TFL, but perhaps I need to decrease the number of posts per week so that I can get some breathing room and come over here to play now and then.  I miss talking about Glee, or getting on my soapbox about something.  

I miss this blog.  It's been with me since 2004 in some incarnation.  I'm not quite ready to let it go at this point.  

Right at this moment, I want to merge all of my blogs into one and have everything at this one.  I won't do it, but the feeling is there right now.

Confidence

Lately, I've lacked confidence in so many areas.  Other than my typical mood swings, I don't know what is at the root of the problem.  

I spend a lot of the day feeling frazzled.  Not about work.  I'm confident in my abilities at work.  I guess I've finally been practicing for a long enough time to feel comfortable in what I need to do.  But I do feel frazzled in getting everything done in a day.  By the time I get home, it seems like there is so much that I want to accomplish that I simply can't get to.  I've been very burnt out.  I know this happens to everyone.  It doesn't help that my body never wants to cooperate or function properly.  Most of the time, it just wants sleep.  

This is a prelude of sorts.  I talked about this on another venue tonight and I am also going to talk about it here.  Hell, if I wanted to, I could also take it over to TFL, but I don't want that to become a complete catch-all for whatever is on my mind.  

I am taking the obese fashionless manatee thing to new levels lately.  I've lost about three lbs., but I am still at my highest weight ever.  I look horrific.  We were in line at the grocery store last night and my husband said, Wow, Lisa Marie Presley really looks like shit.  The National Enquirer had her pegged at 165 lbs.  Then I thought how much more than that I weigh.  How much worse than that I must look.  How has this happened.

I know that it has partially been my thyroid and the yeast.  But it has also bee sheer laziness.  I don't watch what I eat.  I don't exercise.  I have more or less given in.  I've accepted the pain of fibro and the limitations that it puts on my life.  Even though every doctor I've had says to exercise through the pain.  I gave up at some point.  

I did my Ballet Conditioning DVD on Saturday and I am still sore.  

I need to get into a fitness routine.  But that's just one more thing that I've got to find time for.  One more thing that needs to get added to my schedule.  But this isn't a want.  This is a need.  I look like hell.  I feel like hell.  Changes are a necessity.  

Frustrated.  If I don't make some serious changes soon, I will weigh more than my husband.  Not okay.  

The Neighborhood Crazy Lady

You know how every neighborhood has a crazy person?  I think I may have accidentally just sealed my fate. 

Here's the thing.  I'm really sick.  I don't think I have bronchitis.  I think it is pneumonia.  There is absolutely no other reason why I should want to remove one portion of my lung with a chef's knife.  It feels like it did when I had pneumonia over the summer.

Here's the other thing.  I'm really bored.  I can't think to do any work at home.  (And I assure you that no client wants me working on their stuff right now in my present state of mind.)  I have Facebooked.  I have tweeted.  I have done every possible thing I can to amuse myself online.  I hate daytime tv.

I wanted the mail.  I weighed my options.  It is sort of drizzling, so I figured no one would be out and about, plus it was 4:40, so most people would still be at work, so I could go unnoticed. 

Accordingly, I went outside wearing the following:  Brian's navy hoodie that says Hawaii.  An old navy moot court tshirt.  No bra, so my boobs are down by my waist.  Black track pants with bright red stripes down the side.  They come to about mid-calf.  Since I've had them FOREVER, the seam is gone on the one side, so strings are probably hanging down my leg.  I can't be bothered to check.  I am wearing gray socks with bright pink and green leopard spots.  To complete the look, I put on a pair of claks that made the socks quite visible. 

When I went outside, I remembered that I don't like getting my glasses wet, so I pulled the hoodie up.  So now I look extra crazy.  I had to walk extra slow because I can't breathe really well.  Of course, three neighbors in the damn cul de sac had to leave their houses while I was on my walk and saw me looking like that.  One of them was loading his vehicle with luggage so he got repeat views. 

Know what I got?  Cooks Illustrated.  Totally worth the trip.  I really hope someone nominates me for What Not to Wear based on this situation.  I believe that self-diagnosed pneumonia can be blamed.

Just for the record, here are my socks.

 

Facebook, Bra Colors and Breast Cancer Awareness

If you are on FB, you may have recently posted your bra color as your status update as part of a breast cancer awareness initiative.  You may not have if you are a guy.  Or, like some women, you may have taken some offense to the idea of taking part in the breast cancer awareness activity.

A couple of days after I posted my color (black, it's almost always black), I saw a couple of articles that wrote about the entire campaign with disdain.  The one article that I remember talked about the idea of more breast cancer awareness as offensive because there are so many other types of cancer.  I am certainly aware of this.  I have intense fear of bladder cancer because my father worked at chemical plant for more than thirty years. 

Here's the thing, I'm proud to promote breast cancer awareness.  I'm proud to wear my old Widener Women's Law Caucus tshirt that says Check 'Em Out.  I am not trying to belittle awareness of other cancers or diseases. 

I believe there is a reason to raise awareness of breast cancer.  Breast cancer needs to be in your face.  Breast cancer, if detected early enough, can be a much easier fight than if it is detected later.  If we keep awareness up and in people's faces, people may go home (and I'll admit that I did) and do a self exam that night.  They might talk to their doctor about doing their mammogram.  Awareness leads to detection.  There is no way in hell that I am ever going to stop preaching awareness because there are other types of diseases that don't get an equal voice. 

This is a disease that my maternal grandmother had.  I have ginormous boobs and I had issues that sent me to a breast specialist when I was 19.  You better believe that I'm going be aware, stay aware and promote awareness.  If you don't want to participate in something, that's fine.  Block it out.  (Just like I've blocked Farmville, Mafia Wars, etc.)  It lasted for a day and a half and the Susan Komen Foundation was even moved by the outcome.  There was an impact from something so simple.  Even if it was just me - one woman who went home and remembered to do her self exam that night.  That's the importance of awareness.  

Now, what sort of status update can we come up with to remind women to get a pap smear each year and why it's important?

We Went to Sedona

We went to Sedona last week.  There will be much more to tell.  For now, you can view the photos.  Go here.

Danielle and the Sinus Squid

Danielle was sent to the Tower.  The Sinus Squid was the enemy and it was near the Tower.  So, Danielle did not want to go to the Tower.

Danielle tried to escape.  She tried to travel elsewhere, by ship.  But there was a terrible storm.  Danielle knew that the Sinus Squid had caused the storm.  So, she asked the sailors to throw her into the sea, away from the path of the Sinus Squid.  But Danielle did not drown, because the Sinus Squid swallowed her.  Danielle kicked and kicked and the Sinus Squid Spit her out in front of Walgreen's.  Danielle purchased Sinus Squid removal mists and thanked Walgreen's for rescuing her from the Sinus Squid.  She returned to the Tower, toting decoupaged taxidermy statue of the Sinus Squid for her office.

[For WBG, creator of the Sinus Squid.]

It Ain't Easy Being Light Sage

It seems that at least two people I know are under the impression that I am "green."  The Southern Girl specifically said it.  I figure I should clear this up for her because I know she doesn't know quite what to make of my lil dem self.  So let me explain.

I am not green.  Robin is green.  I have other friends who are green.  Like St. Patrick's day.  But I'm not there.  Sure, I recycle.  I turn out lights.  When we bother replacing burnt out light bulbs, I try to buy swirly bulbs.  I decided not to use a particular laundry product because the packaging couldn't be recycled.  It's a good start. 

In fact, I am so not green, Robin was able to enter me into a contest where prizes were involved for the non-green status of my cleaning supplies.  We won a prize.  I'm that green.  (Not until I get my starter kit of green cleaning supplies.)

Both of our air conditioner units are always at work and I like it COLD.  We never have the windows open.  We live too close to that stupid mountain and everyone (including that big dumb white cat) sneezes nonstop.  I use an obscene amount of paper at work each day, which I do not always recycle.  I have wasted thousands of pages on cases that I could have read online, but I didn't because I hate reading on a screen.  And we like paper towels and use a lot of them.

We also have ample amounts of dry cleaning.  We have all sorts of stuff that is always plugged in, like our computers and a cell phone charger and clocks and the dvr and ...  You see what I mean. 

I drive a Honda.  Not a prius or anything else.  I hope to buy my car at the end of my lease so that I will be driving that honda for a long time. 

So, while I enjoy being called green, I'm not.  Trust me.  I will be.  Someday.  But it's a process.  Baby steps.

I Mad Men'd Myself

Accepting My Fate

Months ago, I went to the podiatrist, as you all know.  I was diagnosed with tarsal tunnel.  I now think that diagnosis was not necessarily true.  I think the problem was my shoes and my fibro.  Since then, I have worn flats.  Only a very slight kitten heel for court.  I hate them and I have grumbled and bitched nonstop. 

This week, I accepted it.  Heels mess up my legs.  We had a Hello Stiletto event on Tuesday night and I wore heels for a couple of hours.  The next day, the numb patches in my legs started again and they have been gone for a while.  Seems like that's the cause.  Much to my dismay.  And I was wearing relatively comfortable heels too... 

Today, I went to DSW.  I didn't torture myself by going through the aisles with heels.  I was taunted by a pair of Betsey Johnsons in the clearance section that were my size and GORGEOUS.  Instead, I bought flats.  I actually found six pairs that didn't turn my stomach.  None are Sam & Libby, even though one pair was cute and it was supposed to look like a painted clog with brown accents.  If those accents had been black, I would have had seven pairs.  I don't like brown - blame that on my high school uniform. 

I discovered a brand that I believe is aimed at junior high girls.  Rocket Dog.  The shoes feel like I am barefoot, so that is a plus.  They were extremely inexpensive.  I bought two pairs which claim to be made of thai silk.  Black and "dark jade" (aka teal).  I like them because it almost looks like my foot is tied up in a bandage and bound.  My husband claims I look like I have old school bound feet (even though he has seen the pictures of what that really looks like).  My feet are just small.  They look so dainty.

I was thrilled to find a very cute pair of Cole Haan flats that match absolutely nothing that I own.  I'll find a way to make that work because they are insanely comfortable.  I almost bought a pair of coach that were on clearance, but changed my mind.  I was surprised to see a better variety of flats than the last time I went.  So now, I can at least have obnoxious colors.  Most importantly, I got a pair of red patent sling backs, so I finally have something to wear with my navy dress.  (Because, remember, I think red patent is a neutral and I don't like navy shoes.  My hatred of brown is already described above.)

I spent some money, but I'm quite satisfied with this purchase.  I needed the shoes and I have accepted my fate.  Now I simply need to get some stuff to match these lovely shoes. 

Look, it's 2009!

I finally updated some of my links.  Gee, that was long overdue. 

To My Dad

Through Emails to Daughter, I'm sure you can tell that my dad is pretty cool.  Happy Father's day, Dad.  I'm a lucky girl to have you.  I made a list, which Typepad just deleted for some reason, so now I am angry at typepad, but I hope you have a great day celebrating you!

Where I Am

If you are one of my three steady readers, you probably noticed that I took the site down for a few days.  I had the internal battle that many bloggers go through about being private and, yet, through the blog, putting it all out there for the public to see.  And, a particular concern, having no control over who sees it. 

I have become more conscious of what is positive and negative in my life.  Unfortunately, there was a constant nagging source of negative.  I let it simmer for far too long and it finally boiled over.  The particulars are stupid and seem juvenile, but it all comes down to the same thing - I will not continue to feed into the negativity.  I do not want toxic sources in my life.  The most important realization is that only I can determine what is positive or negative to me.  No one else can make that decision.  No one else can pressure me into feeling a different way.  This isn't a campaign.  It is my life and I will choose how to live it. 

That being said, I thought I should put up a shield.  Guard myself.  Be more private.  Then, I thought about it.  I realized that this was dumb.  Why on earth would I dare think that I need to change anything about who I am or how I want to live my life because of negative sources?  It's sad that I even entered into that mindset for a second. 

So I'm back.  I've been feeling negative a lot over the past week.  I'm done with that.  I am here to live my life to the best of my ability.  I will take care of me and do what is right for me.  I will not act out of guilt.  I will not act out of duty if it is going to cause me pain or even a moment of self-doubt.  Not going to live that way. 

If people don't like my decisions, it is up to those individuals to deal with it.  People make their own decisions and then live with the consequences.  That is what I'm doing.  That is what everyone on earth should do.  Stop blaming and making excuses.  I do what is right for me.  You do what is right for you. 

Rediscovering Buddhism

I often refer to myself as a half-assed buddhist.  I don't know if I am Zen or any other branch.  I know I believe in the Four Noble Truths and I want to live according to the eightfold path.  Lately, I've been feeling out of sorts.  Very disconnected from myself.  My reflexologist suggested meditation and getting back in touch with my spiritual side. 

During my last visit to the library, I checked out some books on buddhism and one has been amazing.  Plant Seed, Pull Weed.  I'm not a gardener (yet), but I love the metaphor and the way the she presents the dharma.  It has made me think so much about how I deal with life.  I have lost any ability to be patient.  There is so much stress and anger (often at myself).  There are so many mental weeds.  I dwell on things well in the past and I worry about the future.  I need to refocus on RIGHT NOW. 

This morning, I got up and something made me do things differently.  Perhaps it was the recent reading finally sinking in.  Instead of rushing to get to work a little earlier than usual so that I could bill an extra .3, I took my time getting ready this morning.  I made oatmeal.  While it was cooking, I took out the recycling and cleaned the litter boxes.  I added some freshly ground flax seeds to the oatmeal and it was the most delicious breakfast I have had in ages.  I spent time eating it.  I read the news online.  I caught up on FB.  Then I got ready for work.  Again, for once, I didn't feel rushed.  I would get there by 9, which is perfectly acceptable. 

When I got to work, I was in the most positive mood I have had in a long time.  Taking that time for myself was a huge step.  I believe I am going to try and make this my routine.  I need that down time to prepare for my day.  Once I can afford a treadmill, I'll make the non-quick cooking steel oats in the rice cooker and when I'm done my cardio, my breakfast will be waiting.  I'm not losing sleep.  I'm not losing time at work.  In fact, I was more focused at work.  It was a very pleasant way to start the day. 

A Bad Day

I tend to avoid mirrors.  In addition to the fact that I don't like facing the weight that has piled on over the past couple of years, I just feel like I am staring at a stranger sometimes.  I know how I got here, but I am really at a loss to explain who I am. 

So each day, I avoid the questions and I avoid the mirror.  My reflection always seems to be asking who I've become and I don't know if I like what I see.  I have become such a neurotic mess. 

I need to figure it out soon.  Definitely feeling lost lately.  I want the toxic drama to fade away so that I can figure out what is left when it dissolves. 

On Saturday, my reflexologist told me that I need to figure out what makes me happy.  The answer is that I don't know.  I can only define the things that make me unhappy.  I can pinpoint little moments, but in the grand scheme of things, I don't know the answer to that question either. 

I have been trying to get back in touch with my faith.  But even that feels like a failure.  I have strayed so far from the eightfold path.  I need to find a center, but everything feels like it is spiraling out of control. 

In a couple of weeks, I turn 33.  I don't expect to have all of the wisdom of the world, but I would at least hope that I knew a little more about the journey that I am taking. 

Need to sit still, catch my breath and concentrate on breathing...

You have been right all along.

Everyone says I am CRAZY and have too much time on my hands.  Well, here's the proof. 

That's right.  It's a quiz to see which incarnation of me you are most like.  Don't worry.  They are all awesome. 

Go Here Now.

I started another blog about financial stuff, in an effort to keep it off this little basket of sunshine and cheer.

Visit The Frugal Lawyer.

(Yes, I'm trying out Wordpress for this one.  Typepad is not particularly cooperative most of the time.)

On Privacy

Anyone who has read my blog can tell that I am very open and public about most things in my life.  You all know that I'm in debt.  You all know that I have significant health problems.  You all know that I'm still grieving over my grandmother's death.  You know that I generally want to be a good person.  You know that I am like most people, trying to get over life's struggles.

There is a part of me that wants to delete this blog at least once a week because I've said too much.  There are posts that I don't know if I should have written.  There are definitely people who I hope don't know this blog exists because I don't want them to have access to me in any way.  Simply because I don't want them to know a damn detail of my life.  I've certainly censored myself on numerous occasions, just in case. 

I keep this blog up because it helps to write things down.  It helps to talk about things.  I also like the public forum.  I've made friends because of this random public space.  Friends who are dear to me.  Friends from whom I seek advice. 

I've also talked so openly about my health struggles because if I can help just one person with Fibro find some sense of relief or community, then I've done some good in the world. 

But there are still those days when I want to take it down.  When I think I've said too much.  When I think I've let the world in and I feel like I've let my guard down.  When I feel vulnerable that people think less of me for who I am or what I've said. 

Status Update: Yuppie Whining, Kicking and Screaming

Everyone, including me, has had enough of my yuppie whining.  Yes, I have a ton of debt.  Yes, I can't figure out how to pay it off.  Yes, my mortgage increased because the asses at Indymac didn't calculate the escrow properly last year and now the mortgage has increased by $300 a month for the next year.  Yes, I desperately needed spring clothes for work (thanks again to my thyroid for the weight gain) and did go shopping yesterday, all of which went onto a credit card because I had no other way to pay for it.  (The trip also included getting "practical shoes".)  Yes, I still have tarsal tunnel.  Yes, I am still a whiny little baby. 

Today, I did something extremely painful.  Painful to the point that I have been pouting about it all day.  I listed 18 pairs of shoes on ebay.  (If you want to see them, do a seller search for Captdogslilgirl.  there are 18, but it often only shows 12, which is a lie.)  Some of them are very beautiful shoes, like my purple Jimmy Choo peep toes or my Kenneth Cole Diamond Girls.  Some suck and they hurt and I don't really care (i.e., the Calvin Kleins, the Aldos, the giraffe via spiga, etc.). 

It was a painful experience for various reasons.  1.  I love my shoes and they are my little sculpture garden.  2.  I don't like admitting that my financial state is so bad that I have to sell my crap.  3.  I am pissed that I have tarsal tunnel and can't wear those shoes.  4.  I am pissed that I had to spend money on ugly shoes at Naturalizer yesterday.  Shoes with small heels or ugly heels.  Shoes that weren't beautiful.  Stupid stupid ugly shoes.  Grumble. 

Hopefully, at a bare minimum, the sale of the existing collection of shoes will at least pay off the shopping from yesterday.  There is one bid on a pair of Jimmy Choo, so that means I will get at least $150.  If I manage to sell them all for decent prices, then I might be able to pay for yesterday's shopping, pay my car registration (which I estimate will be around $350) and make a significant dent in the escrow shortage too. 

[On Friday, I was declined for my second attempt to apply for a personal loan to consolidate my credit cards.  They said I don't have the ability to pay.  Now, that's incorrect because I can pay them.  It would be a whole lot easier to make progress if they were all together at a reasonable interest rate, which they are not.  But I'm making payments just fine, over the minimums.  I'm just really really really worried that things are going to get worse and I cannot forbear my student loans past February of next year, which is the main cause of my stress.  There has to be at least one card paid off by February or I do not know how I will be able to stretch my budget to include the addition $330 for the student loan payments.]

Dr. Doom 1, Danielle 1

How do you like these apples, Dr. Doom?  Every last piece of tape that your assistant painstakingly placed on my foot fell off in the shower.  I'm still wearing my ugly ass sneakers (although I am wearing color in an attempt to match them - so much for my Morticia Addams style today).  You told me the tape would last.  You lied.  Point for me.

I will call your office when it opens and see if you are going to make me come in for more tape.  So you will have another chance for a point because I am a good and obedient patient.  Ball's in your court.

Why Can't I Find the Laundry Basket: Tales of my Sunday

Today, I slept in because I haven't been feeling well.  (More congestion, etc., which I'm sure plans to invade my bronchial areas.)  I needed to go to the office and run a massive list of errands. 

Off I went to CVS and the dollar store.  Then to work for a bit.  Then to Bed Bath & Beyond.  Then Sunflower for grocery shopping.  I encountered a really strange man at Sunflower.  He was listening to his iPod but singing very loudly.  I mean, VERY LOUDLY.  I just wanted some pears.  Then I just wanted some spelt pretzels.  Then I just wanted some wrinkle cream.  Every place I went, there he was.  Singing.  Very unsettling after our third run-in and then it just kept going.  Sigh.

Then I went to Smith's.  More shopping.  Got pissed because I couldn't find a bunch of stuff.  Then, the jackass bagger kid placed things in a way that ruined numerous boxes (Shredded Wheat was on sale and I was stocking up).  Annoying.  Then got gas.  Then went to CVS to return something.  That should have taken approximately two minutes.  It took 12.  I was NOT HAPPY as there were frozen things in my car. 

Now I am home.  I am still frazzled and annoyed.  I blame that lady at CVS.  She made me consider changing alliances to Walgreens.  I got over that quickly and realized she is just the worst CVS employee ever. 

I am exhausted.  Feels like I have accomplished next to nothing today.  Sigh.  Boring day.  Cranky me. 

Guilt over a lack of yeti arms

Today, I decided to splurge and get a facial.  Mostly, because I direly need one.  My face is gross right now and the change of seasons usually requires a facial.  I liked the girl who did it.  She spent an ample amount of time on massage, when I far prefer that time be spent on excavating congestion.  (Is that the PC term for it?)  I need all of the crap dug out of my skin and about a layer of skin removed so that we can start fresh for spring.  But fear not, she did all of that too.

While there, vanity kicked in and I had her wax my yeti arms.  (yes, I am a natural blonde, but my arms still look like that of a yeti).  I feel it was extremely brave that I tried waxing them again.  Or, I am very stupid.  It's hard to say.  You may all remember the incident now known as Waxer Bitch 2007.  If not, here is the photo to remind you of the cost of my vanity (and the poor technique of the waxer bitch who was in charge of de-yeti'ing my arms that day).  This was only a couple of weeks before the wedding.

 

That did not happen this time.  Plus, no one is allowed to get near the tender chubby underbelly of my arm with hot wax again EVER.  New lady's wax looked like very thick pepto.  It was sort of weird.  She did a damn fine job though.

Then I got home and there was another bill sitting in the mailbox for something unexpected.  I now feel bad that I spent the money on myself and on my vanity.  (plus, my sinuses are killing me and i am poor humor anyway.)  So, I don't have yeti arms and I am still a little pink from the facial, but I feel guilty about it.  Should have saved the money.  Right now, I feel bad over every non-essential purchase and think I need to save the money.  Sigh. 

What's done is done.  I'm going back to reading my library book now.  While my eye waters and I sniffle incessantly.

Fortune: You like to travel and see stuff.

Every time I get a fortune cookie.  I get a non-fortune.  Telling me I like shoes is not a fortune.  Telling me I have pretty hair is not a fortune.  Telling me that I am awesome is not a fortune.  A fortune involves the word "will."  It has to predict the future.  These are my rules. 

Yesterday, I had lunch with Stef at PF Chang's.  I got a fortune.

NEW FINANCIAL RESOURCES WILL SOON BECOME AVAILABLE TO YOU (1, 11, 16, 25, 28, 49)

It is a proper fortune and I want it to come true.  I kept it.  I am going to continue keeping it.  I assume your fortune can't come true if you throw it away.

When left on my own, here's how I roll

Okay, The Boy is away at a conference.  (Thank you to all the saints for making it possible for me to not do domestic law.)  I am home.  I worked late.  I am really tired from work.  I've also got myself on a two day TV fast while The Boy is away.  I figure I should do things like blog, and talk to you, internet.

Here's what I've done since I got home. 

Facebook.  Duh.

Eaten.  Frozen oatmeal and a cantaloupe.  Have mild palpitations when deseeding cantaloupe because one of the seeds almost touched me.  must remember to wear gloves next time.

Discovered big dumb white cat locked in bedroom.  Picked up big dumb white cat and tried to get him to do the Single Ladies dance with me.  He politely refused.

Watch cats fight.  (funny because hairless cats make a very amusing slapping sound when they fight.  No fur to muffle their fury.) 

Consider cleaning up.  Decide not to because I am a slovenly pig.

Consider scanning photos.  Decide not to because I am the picture of sloth.

Now considering reading book until I am ready for bed.  New book club book.  (it better not suck because I'm going to be reading it before the new Christopher moore.)

My goals for tomorrow:
Get up early enough to exercise (i.e., jump on mini trampoline)
Win at court (I am covering a hearing for someone and I feel bad when I lose other people's stuff)
Finish monstrous pile of projects at work
Remember to take out enormous pile of recycling
Wear open toed cute ass shoes to court.  it's close enough to spring

That's it.  I am so lame and happy to be this lame.  It's a good fit for me.

I am afraid of home invasions

Last night, The Boy went out to get my dinner.  A few minutes after he left, I heard the familiar whoosh of the sliding door/window sound.  I didn't pay much attention to it.  Except that a minute later, I heard a very loud crash on the back patio.  Quite simply, I lost my shit.  I tried to call The Boy to see if he was in the backyard for some unknown reason, trying to scare the bejeezus out of me.  No answer. 

So, I peered out of the dining room area toward the back door.  There were two very startled nudist cats staring at the back door too.  Neither of them doing anything that would cause a crash.  I considered going into the kitchen to obtain my weapon of choice (decided on the spot as the Rachael Ray chef knife).  But then I remembered that the blinds were partially raised in the kitchen and I was afraid the crazed killer would be more enticed to invade my home if he/she saw my presence and my threatening weapon.  (I assume crazy killers are more interested in invading homes when they are challenged with a shiny weapon.  i.e., I assume everyone is as competitive about their respective professions as I am.) 

Since I was too scared to move, I sat in the dining room, clutching my phone.  Eventually, The Boy returned with my In N Out.  I told him what happened and he looked outside and said nothing looked out of the norm.  I remained paranoid throughout the evening and he did another inspection before going to bed. 

At that time, he discovered that the window was open and the screen was out.  So, big open hole in our wall.  (hence, the whoosh and the crash.)  The Boy recalls opening the window recently.  I do not recall when the window was open because that is usually a magnet for dumb naked cats.  (They do enjoy the warm breeze on their naked tummies while they sun themselves in the morning.) 

So, I am convinced that someone is trying to rob us.  The Boy thinks it was something unknown (wind, perhaps?).  In conclusion, I have two points:

1.  I do not wish to be robbed. 
2.  Do you think Rachael Ray would have me as a guest on her show if I were to kill/maim a robber in self defense using one of her Furi knives?

15 minutes a day went into overtime

I mentioned that I was trying to accomplish some goals with the fifteen minutes a day method that I learned in my Time Mastery CLE last year.  Well, taking fifteen minutes really motivated me to just get the dreaded chore done. 

We have a room that I like to call the home gym.  It's a den on the first floor and that's where The Boy's bowflex lives.  Until today, it has also been a pit of junk that was never unpacked when we moved in last year.  There were books.  Paintings.  My law school class binders.  So much junk.  On the rare occasions that the cleaning lady comes, we would just throw everything into that room and put a sign on it that said not to clean that room. 

It has been one of my goals to get that room organized.  It seemed like it would be a monster because there was simply too much stuff.  Well, it's done, more or less.  There are still a few storage containers that will be transitioned to a room upstairs.  (the spare bedroom.)  All of the books are in the sitting room in our bedroom, waiting patiently for some bookshelves from Ikea.  (which I don't have in Vegas, but that's a different post.) 

There is a massive pile going to Goodwill.  I dismantled all of my law binders and there is a mountain of paper to recycle.  We're talking five or six bankers boxes full of paper from law school and other various things.  (I hope they take it all on Thursday.) 

There is so much more to do to get organized, but I am VERY HAPPY with the progress I made this weekend.  It's coming along.  A year after moving into the house! 

15 Minutes Per Day

Last year, I took a time mastery class for CLE.  It was an amazing class and I kept up with things for a while and then ...  life got sloppy again.  My dear Stef said that she has been using the methods we learned in the class and it is helping her.  I realized that I needed to get back to those basics too.

One of the things we learned was to take fifteen minutes a day to accomplish a goal.  Just fifteen minutes.  I've been doing that and I am making progress.

My number gripe is not having enough time to get everything done.  Cleaning always gets pushed aside.  I don't particularly enjoy it.  Okay, I hate it, unless I can make a list or alphabetize something.  The house is becoming cluttered and gross. 

Each day this week, even with the death plague, I have spent at least fifteen minutes de-cluttering.  Last week, I cleaned out my car and removed so much stuff that it must be at least 50-100 lbs lighter.  (Yay for fuel efficiency.)  I've gone through stacks of old magazines for recycling.  I've slowly been transporting stuff from the junk room (i.e., stuff that never had a home after we moved in - more than a year ago!).  It's getting there.  I finished a bunch of personal filing.  I cleaned off all of the kitchen counters. 

In fifteen minutes per day, I'm making significant progress on my most dreaded activity.  I'm hoping to spend a lot more time this weekend getting things put away into proper homes.  Maybe I'll even get some art onto the walls. 

A pinch of budgeting and a dash of bronchitis and a question at the end

I fell off the wagon a bit with spending during this pay period.  Since I am confined to activities that involve very little moving (breathing is still quite an effort) and minimal mental involvement (thank you prednisone), I have been trying to green things up.  I have been making sure that all of the bills that I get are on email delivery.  (This is also part of decluttering the house since I will no longer have to file all of that paper that I barely review anyway.) 

During my analysis of things, I reviewed our mortgage account online.  Kind of wish I hadn't.  It makes bronchitis seem friendly.  I realize that I am unable to do much heavy thinking right now, so I made a basic excel spreadsheet and realized, dude, our escrow payment needs to be way higher each month.  When we bought the house, we assumed that this was the case.  Then they did an escrow analysis and it seemed we were paying way too much into escrow and stopped.  Well, that money needs to be paid again.  In fact, instead of the $150 extra that we were paying before, it should be about $200. 

So I called the nice folks at IndyMac and they were kind enough to do an accelerated escrow review.  I know what they will say, but I want to see the adjusted payment from them. 

Once that was done, I immediately pulled up my super duper budget spreadsheet and tried to figure out where on earth I am going to get that money and still have any realistic chance of paying off my Chase card by the end of the year.  (As you may recall, my student loans can only stay in forbearance until February of next year, so I have to ensure that I have adequate funds available to cover that $338 payment.  Part of my goal is to pay off the Chase card, which would free up the extra money.)  I just slashed my wireless plan's minutes.  I occasionally go over, but not that frequently.  I will start tracking that better now that The Boy is no longer in my network.  (although, yay for BB Messenger.  That is saving me a ton.) 

Must go hardcore on the grocery costs again.  I have been lax because of the weird diet that I've been on.  I need to do a better job purchasing meats on sale and not wasting food.  Or, I could completely give in and start eating nothing but shredded wheat.  Honestly, I think I'd be fine with it.  That is bound to save some money....

But here's the good sign.  I am not throwing a tantrum right now.  I am pretty damn calm, which is not usually the case when I deal with money.  I am going to work all of this out and it will be fine.  Perhaps this is the prednisone, but this is a pleasant side effect, unlike when it looked like everything was melting earlier.

This leads to a final question - is it "icky" to have a garage sale?  i.e., will you judge me for having one?  I think we have a lot of stuff that we can get rid of, including as ass load of children's clothing and other things.  It seems like having the cash on hand would be as beneficial as a tax deduction.  It's not like we won't still make donations to other places too.  It just seems that we could make $500 easily on a garage sale.  Or has the economy affected garage sale returns too???

BUI: Blogging under the influence

Dear readers, I have to tell you - I hate prednisone.  More than anything, I hate the first "big day" dose of prednisone.  It makes me utterly nuts.  I don't mean my endearing color-coding, list making, hyper nuts.  I mean, head over there, shouldn't be on the computer interacting with people and hallucinating nuts.  But here I am.  At my computer.  The key is that i am not at work.  Which is good because, well, who knows what might come to life.  Being friendly, I'm sure I would talk to the exhibit binder with legs or a telephone that starts dancing.  That's why i am home.  The other tricky part is driving.  I might blog while under the influence, but even I know not to get in a vehicle like this. 

Anyway.  I feel slightly better.  I can breathe more through my mouth now.  last night, even that was difficult because my lungs were so heavy with goo. 

Have I mentioned that the Prednisone is making my eyebrows itch?  So annoying.

I think the computer is melting, so I am going to get into bed with the cats.  I wonder what they are going to morph into.

Lunch soon?

I have been extremely lax in posting lately.  I have a big writing project coming up that will be done by the end of this weekend and then I can get back to posting on a regular basis.  We've got a lot to catch up on, don't we?  We have to get caught up on my diet, how I injured my face, my hair, some books I've read and all sorts of other things.  Maybe, just maybe, we'll talk about tv too.  Soon.  Very soon. 

Happy Birthday to The Boy

Baby, Happy Birthday!  I am so glad you picked me to spend the rest of your life with.  I feel lucky every day that we are together.  I love you!  Happy seventh 29th Birthday!

On my mind: The Danielle Deficit

Money Money Money...  I'm not just quoting Abba, the world's greatest rock band.  Sadly, it seems to be on my mind constantly lately. 

The Danielle Deficit is not in good shape.  Not in good shape at all.  Of course, I am not the only one in this kind of shape.  I know that.  I can't afford to take my student loans out of forbearance right now and I am quite scared that I am not going to be able to afford the payment next year when there is no time left to defer... 

Right now, I'm trying to get accustomed to living on about $350 less per month.  Because it is a 27 pay period year, my usual salary went down.  I am finally contributing to a flexible spending account for health care costs, but that is still money that I have to wait to get back.  Then there's another $75 to park at work each month.  So my take home is a lot less on a monthly basis.  I wasn't managing particularly well before, just due to the sheer volume of debt. 

So, in the interest of full disclosure, I still have about $90 in student loans.  I am paying on my one private loan because it is the only one that wasn't consolidated.  I still owe my grandfather $36k for rescuing me from financial ruin when I couldn't sell my house after the bubble broke.  Then, there's the credit cards.  We'll simply say that I owe my grandfather less than I owe the nice people at Discover, Chase, Citibank and Wamu.

I attempted to get a personal loan from Wells Fargo (my beloved bank) and that didn't go so well.  It seems my debt/income is too high.  Um, no kidding.  Which is why i want to consolidate and deal with it in one big massive pile.  Plus, that would allow me to get rid of a couple of the cards, which are, of course, hiking up their interest rates.  My credit isn't shot, but it has seen better days. 

I completely understand that I have a good income.  For that, I'm extremely grateful.  But what's scary is this thought:  If I am in this much financial trouble - what about those who aren't as lucky when it comes to their income?  I'm living paycheck to paycheck and hoping for the best.  I cannot imagine the hell that so many families must be going through right now. 

I am prone to fits of yuppie whining like this.  I grumble that I've gotten myself into financial trouble.  whine whine whine.  But I'm damn lucky that I have a job that pays me enough so that I can at least make all of my payments on time. 

Right now, I am hopeful that I will get money back from my insurance company soon.  That should be at least $1,000, I think.  That will help since just about all of my medical costs were put onto credit cards last year (and I came in around $8k for my fibro doctor).  Then, hopefully, we'll get a tax refund.  I've got my fingers crossed that I can get this under control this year.  But it feels like I am drowning in debt.  There's only so much time that you can spend staring at a spreadsheet and trying to make the math do something magical. 

That's it for my yuppie whining.  Hopefully I will have good news to report soon and the insurance stuff will be taken care of.  Please, please let that happen soon.  For everyone else out there in similar situations, I hope you have better times soon too.

Family Drama: Rules of Engagement

If you insist on involving me in family drama from 2500 miles away, we're going to have to set some ground rules. 

1.  Don't make shit up that involves me.  You didn't read it on my facebook page because you don't have access to my facebook page.  But, just so we're clear, this blog is very public and you can get this straight from the source.

2.  If you have something to say, sack up and say it to me directly.  I don't care to hear rumors through other family members. 

3.  Grow up.  I graduated from high school about fifteen years ago (ouch, that hurt to write).  Hell, I got out of law school three years ago.  Life isn't like Mean Girls or Heathers (depending on your generation) anymore.  I am not going to be forced into your little circle of hate.  You are sad and pathetic if this is how you thrive.  Perhaps a more productive hobby, like knitting perhaps, would be appropriate.  (I had something other than knitting down and The Boy suggested I censor myself.  Grr.)

4.  If you do stupid shit and broadcast it to the entire family, then don't be surprised when people make comments about it.  Again, sack up and deal with the fact that you have drama in your life.  If YOU have drama, it is YOUR fault.  I am not the one causing YOUR drama.  YOU ARE.  Get over yourself. 

5.  Leave me out of it.  Have I made that clear?  If I don't talk to you at family events, it's because I don't want to be involved in your drama.  If I don't stay in touch, that's another clue.  I would like to live a happy drama free existence.  I do not enjoy getting phone calls from my mother or emails from other family members saying that I have done something to offend you.  Honestly, the way you've chosen to live your life is typically embarrassing for the rest of us and we are the ones who should be offended. 

Happy Birthday To Stef

Wishing you all the best on your birthday!

Eulogy for My Grandmother

I truly don't know where to start.  I don't know what to say.  The words are bubbling under the surface and the thoughts are all disconnected, like small bits of poetry.  I've said a lot about my grandmother over the past couple of weeks and it causes me such pain to say goodbye.  So much of this pain in selfish.  I want more time.  I want more of her laughter.  Her hugs.  Her sharp wit.  If I can take comfort in anything, it is that she is no longer in pain.  For the past few years, as her health deteriorated, she has lived with such pain.  I am glad that she can finally be free.

E. Kubler-Ross said "Death is simply a shedding of the physical body like the butterfly shedding its cocoon. It is a transition to a higher state of consciousness where you continue to perceive, to understand, to laugh, and to be able to grow."  My grandmother was a devout Catholic and even though I am her "heathen" granddaughter, I hope her afterlife takes her exactly where she wanted to be.  Where she should be.

Mommom, I love you dearly and I will miss you more than I can express. 

STEF ROCKS!!!

Buttercups, today has been quite a day.  My goal was to go to work so that I could get some things ready for a certain little thing we lawyers like to call summary judgment motion practice.  But then my stomach decided to revolt and digestion has not been an option.  What with all of the vomiting and demons rolling about in my stomach, i didn't make it into the office.  Looks like that will be happening early tomorrow morning.  Or i will just run around like a coughing, nauseous, frazzled mess all morning (most likely). 

But this post isn't about me.  Oh no.  This is about Stef.  You see, Stef has mental problems and enjoys running, biking and swimming or excessive lengths of time.  Yes, she's a triathlete.  For the past two years, she's been focused on one thing - Silverman.  Today, little miss triathlete completed her first half iron distance tri.  If you look at her blog, I'm the author of the smart ass tweets on the side bar.  (which aren't in order b/c twitter is a total d.b. sometimes.) 

First, the weather was shitty.  So the start of Stef's swim was delayed an hour.  She got through that in fantastic time and started the bike leg.  Then she got a flat.  Then another.  Then another.  And another.  And another.  That's right, five flats.  The poor woman had to ride like 56 miles and got five flats.  Any sane person would have thrown the bike into oncoming traffic or the nearest body of water.  But as I said before, Stef is not sane.  No.  She kept going. 

After that ordeal, she had to run 13.1 miles.  If you think Vegas is a big flat desert, oh no.  It is a mountainous monstrosity.  That woman traveled thousands of miles today and did it ON PURPOSE. 

I went to The District to watch her run through.  A stranger tried to touch my hand in a showing of support as he ran by and i blankly stared at him and said I'm sick, you do not want to touch me.  He waved and went by.  Sadly, Stef did not run through during Britney's Toxic because that would have been perfect.  But when she did run through, I didn't realize it was her b/c she had her number on her ass instead of in the front and my distance vision is not so good.  But i got a picture of her ass anyway. 

After that, I raced over to the multi-generational center to watch her big finish.  And indeed it was.  She did it.  She biked through five flats, wind, rain and delays and she didn't give up. 

Stef, you are an inspiration!  I am so incredibly proud of you.  I hope i didn't spread any illness to you.  You did it.  You made silverman your bitch, just as I said you would.  Bravo!

The Boy Says My Arches Are Not Golden

Today, I walked to McDonald's for lunch with my boss.  While crossing a busy street, my ankle gave out and I started to fall.  As I was headed straight for the curb (with my teeth), my boss caught me and saved my teeth.  Then, after standing up, I realized that I had almost collided with a bicyclist.  It was a sad scene, yet, not that out of the ordinary for me.

Happy Birthday, Robin!

Welcome to 32.  It's a good time.  Here's to another good year!  (and hopefully some sweet results at a certain election...) (not that i'm pressuring you to wish for something specific when you blow out the candles, but it can't hurt, right???)

Happy Birthday Jo Ann!!

Wishing you all the best from across the country!  You will always remain one of the people I'm so very glad I met in law school!  You continue to inspire me.  Here's to an outstanding year...

These are for Kellie because she always reads vampire books. These were bus stops ads.

I don't typically see these in Smiths...

At the Reading Terminal Market.

Is that a slutty librarian?

No, I just have really hot eyebrows thanks to Tonia's work at Ooh La La, The Make Up Studio.  Thanks for the compliment.

Thank you, Sweet Jesus, that there were witnesses

It went something like this:

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah work chatter [fidget with stuff that is NOT MINE at a desk that is NOT MINE and not identified as weapons]  "OMG, I JUST STAPLED MY FINGERS TOGETHER.  OW OW OW OW."

Seriously.  Stapled them together.  It's one of those super staplers that requires almost no pressure, but I shouldn't have been screwing with it in the first place.  But there it was.  There i was.  Then I was screwing with it because I can't stop fidgeting and I had no gum in my mouth.

Oh yeah, this happened in front of three other attorneys.  My fingers look like they have been attacked by a vampire and they are still a bit numb.  Moron.  Definitely.

Crossroads

Lately, I feel like I am at a crossroads.  Technically, it's two crossroads because it pertains to two pieces of my life's puzzle.  At each crossroads, there is a guide who can assist me in taking the road I want to travel.  I know the guide well enough to have some faith, but the guide doesn't have my complete trust. 

At one crossroad, I know exactly what I want.  I KNOW it.  But I honestly don't think I can get where I need to be without help.  I think I have the right guide enlisted, but I'm scared of the potential ramifications of utilizing a new guide instead of an old guide.  I am taking only the most tentative steps into that road right now.  I fear a wrong turn could end in catastrophe.  (Catastrophe on a personal level, not for anyone else or the world or anything.)

Then there is a second crossroad.  I need to get through this one in order to make the rest of my life meaningful.  I've been doing everything in my power.  But there is a piece of me that doesn't trust the guide.  And if I can't trust the guide I've chosen, I will be at the end of that road.

So, what to do?  This is honestly one of those times when I wish I wasn't an atheist.  Having some sort of faith in a divine power seems like it would be comforting when making tough decisions.  Quite simply, I do not believe in a higher power. 

The only thing close to religion or faith in my life is an attachment to Buddhism.  The Boy would tell you that I am not a Buddhist.  I may not meditate or read much on the topic lately, but I can tell you that I believe in the four noble truths.  I do try to consider the eightfold path in the way I live my life.  I don't know if I've done a good job or not, but I believe I became a better person when I first became aware.

Right now, I need a little faith.  I think what I'm lacking is faith in myself.  I'm doubting my own abilities to make the right decisions.  I'm unwilling to trust the guides and have faith that I am doing the right thing.  I need to get past these two crossroads because they are starting to hinder my ability to function.  I am in a constant state of self-doubt and worry and stress.  No wonder I can't sleep, right? 

So I think it is time that I learn to trust my gut again.  I have to make decisions and move forward.  I have to stop fearing that I will trust the wrong person and that there will be retribution.  I have to believe that I know what is best for me.  I do know what is best for me.  And I am the only one who can shape my life into what I want.  It is up to me.

I need to see.  I need to breathe.  I need to be aware.

My Fourth Annual Twenty-Ninth Birthday

June 4th at 3:36 p.m. 

My second sweet sixteen. 

Happy Birthday to me. 

Congratulations to Damon and Tina

Friends got married this weekend.  Did I mention that there was sushi flown in from Hawaii?  Delicious.

Technology Update

I finally figured out how to work my domains.  So, you can now access this blog through www.kittenagogo.com.  I am working on transferring www.thefrugallawyer.com from blogger over to its new home on typepad.  Hopefully that will happen this weekend. 

Je suis fancypants.

Because you've always wanted to see my office

This is my wee bitty office. 

It has a nice view.

And these are my office friends.

Anger

Oh, dear readers, what an hour I've had.

First, i get home, and I start going through the mail.  A bill for one of my many emergency room visits.  They are asking for $426.  Um, no.  I think that they may have my insurance name wrong.  I've only had to pay the $50 copay for other visits.  So this seems excessive.  I'll deal with that tomorrow.  But it still soured my mood.

We've been having problems with one of our air conditioning units.  Like, it isn't working.  I had to sleep downstairs last night because I could not reach the proper frigid temperature in the bedroom.  It still isn't working.  Hence, more hostility.  So I had to fill out paperwork to send to the builder. 

Then, it was the last straw.  I went back to the mail and there was a very smug obama staring at me on the Time magazine.  While I'm a democrat, I don't much care for him.  In fact, i don't like him at all.  I don't know if i will vote for him.  So I technically defaced the magazine cover.  It's in the trash.  It was just not something I needed after the other issues. 

I'm now going to watch the wheel and eat leftover ham. 

Happy Mother's Day

First, to the mothers - Thank you!  The hardest job in the world.  Probably the most thankless.  Definitely the most tiring.  To all of those who give up a piece of themselves just to see their children succeed - I applaud you. 

Second, to all of those who aren't mothers, but serve others as caretakers and nurturers and givers, as these are many of the qualities that we come to expect from our mothers.  Thank you for your motivation and your strength.  You keep us going. 

Third, thank you specifically to my own mother.  Being more than 2000 miles away from family is one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.  I cannot tell you how many times I've been upset and my only response to Brian is that I want my mother.  There is always a sense of understanding and a lack of judgment, no matter how stupid i'm being.  I cannot thank my mother enough for that.  She talks about TV with me.  She lets me vent about work and I'm pretty sure that most non-lawyers glaze over when hearing about billable hours.  She has heard me talk about people she's probably never going to meet and she offers sound advise.  I love you, Mom!  Thank you for everything. 

Fourth, please read this.  A beautiful and touching tribute from a friend to her mother.  Thank you, Robin, for sharing your gift with words with us.  You, too, are a great mother and one who deserves a standing ovation for all that you do for your children and your family.  I am truly in awe.  When we were young Pandas, I think we both would be surprised with what the future held for each of us.  (Because 16 year old me would NOT have agreed that I would eventually be practicing corporate law, I'm sure.)  I am so proud of who you've become and how much you've achieved.  You are a GREAT MOM!  Happy Mother's Day!

Consider Yourself Spared

I know how boring the posts about coupons and saving money are.  I KNOW.  So that's why I am saving you from reading them unless you are really interested.  New blog:  The Frugal Lawyer.  Enjoy.