No Sleep Til Brooklyn

RIP Adam "MCA" Yauch.

I've learned a few things this week:

1) I can have fun in the face of an old vice and not even think twice about it.
2) Being DD is actually kind of rewarding.
3) Catching up with friends is really nice...
4) But not so nice when you find out that they had a similar horrific experience with an ex-significant other.
5) I can stay out late and still be a grown up and go to work the next day.
6) And lastly, I'm too old for this kind of late-night socializing on a repetitive basis.

Best friend's brother (who I'm also friends with) was in town this last week. He lives in Colorado and rarely comes home, so when he's around we hang out. This week it involved tattoo retouching (his, not mine), a game of pool (I won), me playing the part of responsible driver, and long drawn out conversations that quickly fast forwarded the night to almost 3am. It was fun, but I was out every night this week. I just started being social again; this was overkill! But the next time I see him could be another 2 years from now, so whatever, I'll deal with being tired. It'll pass eventually.

I had some pin curl success this week:

My hair stayed that curly for two days. The secret? I pinned it while it was still kinda wet (using mousse), then slept on it. That was Tuesday and Wednesday. I had gotten some waterless foam shampoo for curly hair and used it Wednesday morning - it worked quite well!

Thursday I let my hair go au naturale:

There's a huge difference between the way my hair comes out of my head and the way I would like it to! And...I have a huge forehead. Sigh.

Friday, same hair, different makeup:

I really do have a lot of fun with looking completely different from day to day.

That about sums up the week. It's really early for me to be writing, so maybe I'll come back later, maybe not. Don't hold your breath.

You May Take the Floor in Competition

Those seven words have the ability to make my heart race, my mind clear and my body ready for a fight to the finish. They are the words that begin every colorguard performance. They are the words, depending on your preparation, that kick off your road to either victory or defeat. Regardless of outcome, those words are a drug. They make every practice, every drop of sweat, every injury, every callus and every sore muscle worth it. It's all about the performance. All I need is a flag, a floor and an audience. Nothing else matters.

Yesterday I went to a show as a spectator for the first time. I spent almost 7 hours in a high school gym, watching all ages and talent levels ranging from elementary school to Independent World. I relished every last second and drank in my surroundings. The excitement of the performers and the air of self-importance of the instructors was palpable. I wished that I was stretching in the cafeteria, warming up in the rain and doing little pre-show rituals with my teammates. I wished I had crazy show makeup...I would've even loved a crushed velvet uniform.

I miss my spinning days. Yesterday was enough for me to realize that I need to do it again. The last time I marched was in 2005 with an Independent World (IW) guard named Apex. They were based out of Delaware. I loved every minute of it. Apex has since closed its doors, so need to find another guard, but I don't think that will be a problem.

I NEED to spin. That's just the way it is.

PS: If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please check out Winter Guard International and google things like "colorguard" or "winterguard."

A Duck Walks Into a Bar...

I have a love/hate relationship with the show Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives. I usually see episodes that feature places that are too far away to realistically visit any time soon. Tonight, however, I was lucky enough to see an episode that's first stop was a place that's a little more accessible. And I fully intend to go. Soon.

Why?

Because someone  has managed to make pot pie look appealing. See, I hate pot pie. Crust, peas, carrots, celery, onion, chicken and some kind of gooey, white-ish stuff (more commonly referred to as gravy) do not belong together. Why? Because it's gross. How do you make this formula un-gross? You make it with duck confit. Somehow, duck that's been marinated in its own fat, which is then the base to make a succulent looking gravy (and that says a lot, because I find the whole idea of gravy absolutely revolting), which is the blanching liquid for the vegetables...now that sounds amazing. Duck confit pot pie. Yes.

I wore the new coat today. I love it. It was the most interesting thing I had on today; I was almost sad to take it off when I got inside.

Don't mind the silly faces I'm making. Obviously, I don't have a modeling career in my future. I'm too fat and short anyway.

And now for some practical, girly-type nonsense. You may tune out if you wish.

I think my hair is having a mid-life crisis. Most would say it's naturally curly, I think it's naturally annoying. It's not doing anything it's supposed to. It won't curl properly when I leave it to curl on its own, it won't hold a curl if I create curls (any method - curling iron, pin curls, hot rollers or foam rollers), and today it didn't stay sleek and straight! It got all bushy and frizzy and I could feel kinks in the back of my head. When I got home from work, I flat-ironed it again and that seemed to help, but it was so weird. The last time my hair misbehaved like that when it was straight was quite a while ago. Like 2010 while ago. I don't know what to do. I'm considering bangs, but I'm terrified that they'll look terrible and then I'm stuck with them.

Ok, practical girl nonsense over.

Lately I've been wanting to write (something other than a blog). I've always had the vain imagining that I could write a book, one that people would actually read and, here's the kicker, like. I know, that's silly. I mean, what would I write about? Last night I was offered the chance to write my dad's biography (thanks Dad), today during a meeting with my boss and the computer guy, I thought that maybe I should write my boss' memoirs, because it seems the man has been everywhere, met everyone and done everything (no offense, Dad). At least it seems that way. Every time you have a conversation with him because one minute you're discussing something relevant and before you know it, you're on a fishing boat in Louisiana. I don't know. I'll probably never do it, because in order to succeed at such an accomplishment, you need one of two things, talent or confidence; I happen to possess neither.

I'm not sure how to tie all of this together for a neat finish. What do duck confit, my hair and my literary aspirations have to do with each other?

Sounds like a bad joke.

Never a Dull Moment

I just had a conversation with my parents about transvestites. Now that's my idea of an exciting evening.

Let's recap my thrilling day, shall we?

I watched webinars about trade show exhibition. I hate the word webinar. I feel cheap even typing it.

I diffused the bomb I like to call my father. His client database disappeared last night. He broke the internet today. The computer as a whole wouldn't load correctly. If I hadn't come home for lunch (which I never do), I probably would've come home to only one parent. It wasn't pretty. I practically took him by the hand and forced him to eat lunch, sit with me while I finished eating lunch and hold the cat (touch therapy?), while my mom (AKA tech support) fixed everything upstairs.

I returned a red trench coat I bought last week because it was too big in the arms.

At the next store, I found a better, longer red trench coat that ended up being $7 cheaper than the first one.

My dinner was identical to my lunch. A turkey sandwich with tomato and colby jack cheese on potato bread. I switched up the mustard though. Whoo.

That about wraps up my day. Tomorrow holds promises of more webinars and a meeting. Man, if I keep up this pace, I might pull something.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

If you've ever been broken up with by the other person saying that they don't think you need to see each other anymore, and that you'll stay in contact and if you ever need them they're just a phone call away, then you know what the end of my therapy session felt like today.

Again, I pose the question, now what?