Hey, remember when blogging was sometimes just posting lots of little random thoughts and then Facebook and Twitter made that possible so now you feel like you need to have a “real” post with some sort of substantial message or something? Me too. So I’m bringing back the old school stylez. You’re welcome.
- I’m on a major Tina Turner kick lately. I’ve listened to “River Deep Mountain High” about a billion times today and holy shit her voice is startlingly beautiful.
- Speaking of music, I really have to hand it to the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack for introducing a new generation to The Runaways. My heart leaps when I hear my brother singing “Cherry Bomb.”
- A new requirement in any friend of mine is to agree that James Spader was straight-up hot in Pretty in Pink. A complete and total asshole to be sure, but I can’t help but think that would be some fantastic cocaine-fueled hate sex.
- Wow, this list is a real testament to all my hot takes on not-so-current pop culture.
- I had new passport photos taken today and came incredibly close to paying extra for a set of me making, like, duckface, and show it to Ed and see if he said anything. But the woman taking the pictures was so sweet and I felt weird wasting her time just to play a (probably not even funny to anyone but me) prank on my husband. Is this what it’s like to grow up?
- Rather personal question: if your workplace restroom is one of those multi-stall deals, do you have a favorite? Because I found that I was feeling rather put out lately when the stall I frequent is taken so I’ve been trying to switch it up a little. But my real pet peeve, it turns out, is when I’m the ONLY ONE in our large and rather well-appointed ladies room (baskets of tampons in each stall! music piped in! floor-length mirror!) and someone else comes in and takes the stall right next to mine, despite DOZENS of other options. Which makes me circle back to maybe everyone has a preferred stall and I just happen to be next to it?
- OK, I have literally devolved to potty talk. Talk about circling the drain. *rimshot*
What are we all up to this weekend? I’m envisioning a nap, outdoor cocktails, and possibly cleaning out my closet because, hey, I like to goof off, too.
While I’m pretty proud of the fact that I am good about maintaining friendships over the course of my life (seriously: you cannot shake me) I know I need to work on initiating friendships in the first place. My overly trusting and eager nature has screwed me over in the past and I, despite having met many lovely people in my 20’s and 30’s, have some trust and rejection issues. When a potential new friend asks me to grab coffee my first instinct is to check the rafters for a bucket of pig’s blood. Then I assume that I am lame and bothersome so I rarely ask people to hang out, which makes me appear disinterested and aloof. And then I bitch that I have no one to go shopping or happy hour with me.
I’m a real treat.
A blogger I’ve read and admired for ages, Emily, reached out to me to hang out and I took her up on her invitation. She had a last-minute meeting near my office and wondered if I was free for lunch. I said yes, even though I wasn’t wearing the perfect outfit and hadn’t picked a place in advance and was feeling sort of shy. I had a wonderful time and am so grateful for that little act of kindness. We had a great time (at least, I did, but she didn’t block me on gchat or anything so I think it was mutual) and she didn’t seem totally freaked out by my million questions about her life.
So, I’m going to make it a goal to a.) not display the social skills of Boo Radley and b.) initiate plans with the people around me because it really shouldn’t be this challenging for a grown women to find someone to get coffee or a drink with her.
Wish me luck.
Alternate Title: Why Ed Shouldn’t Go to Sleep Before I Do Since I’ll Just End Up Cruising WebMD
A short list of things I Googled/decided I had after a leg cramp didn’t go away:
- Deep Vein Thrombosis
- Avian Bone Syndrome
- I’d like a really tasteful memorial but also there should be an open bar
- Well, at least I’m not going to die in a changing room trapped in a too-tight dress. Or chained to a wall in a sex dungeon.
The more logical reason(s):
- Tweaked something doing a lunge
- Got up from the floor kind of weird while holding my friend’s newborn
- Am old
- OK, Christen, go to sleep now
But seriously, I CAN FEEL THE CLOT MOVING TO MY LUNGS.
Like most nightmares, mine started with a trip to the mall.
Well, not the mall, exactly, but while shopping. For the first time since adolescence, I feel really, for lack of a better term, self-conscious about what to wear. I don’t mean what to wear for an interview or black-tie party (not that I’ve ever attended a black-tie event. I’m not married to Bruce Wayne) but on a daily basis. And it’s fucking annoying because I’m 37 years-old and have the means to buy nice things but I wander around stores unsure of myself and wondering if I’m too old to be in a certain store or if I’m required to shop at Talbot’s and look like Emily Gilmore and this is truly the dumbest thing to think about all the time and yet I cannot stop. Maybe it’s not having a super strict work dress code for work so the lines are blurred between Business Christen and Weekend Christen so I can pretty much wear the same thing on a Tuesday and a Saturday? Kind of like when I was a kid. Maybe it’s working and making friends with people who are younger? We go shopping and they suggest things for me and while my initial reaction is usually “Yeah, that looks good” I panic that I’m going to look like one of those women who is desperately fighting her age and clinging to youth and that is most definitely not a good look.
An additional issue: in the last eight months or so I’ve put on a fair amount of weight. The combo of longer work days, happy hours with new fabulous coworkers, the abundance of food and snacks in the office, socializing which generally revolves around food (and wanting to explore new restaurants), AND not finding a new running group has resulted in a slow but steady creep. I have started a new, sustainable workout routine and have been making better choices about food and portion control, but it’s going to take time to get back into a fair amount of my clothes. In the meantime, buying new clothes has become a necessary chore because I can’t come to work in yoga pants. So I’m shopping in the middle of an identity (midlife?) crisis and not exactly psyched about it, or the body I’m dressing. What could possibly go wrong?
So, yes: I am basically reliving my adolescence, only I can stay out as late as I want and buy my own booze. Yay?