SheSpeaks? More Like SheROARS!!

A few months ago, I joined SheSpeaks.com, a forum-based site geared towards women. I joined mostly for the possibility of free stuff, but the more that I look around, the more I'm surprised with the honesty women share on this site. It's not just about rating and reviewing products, there's a feeling of community and camaraderie, and just genuine support. Most of the time, you're just taking surveys to help the site improve, contributing recipes to existing topics, or maybe offering your experience with a certain company or product. Occasionally, you'll be offered a chance to try a new product and share you like or dislike. A sort of trans-american focus-group, if you will. I was fortunate enough to get a coupon for a free bag of Tostitos' new line of Artisan Tortilla chips. Currently there are two kinds being offered: Roasted Garlic and Black Bean or Fire Roasted Chipotle. Since I was sharing my new freebie with my mom (who doesn't particularly care for anything chipotle), I chose the garlic and black bean chips.

I just have three words: Oh. My. God!! When I first heard about the program and the chips, I was intrigued. I'm always on the lookout for new snacks to try, just to spice up the appetizers at parties, getting away from the standard and expected. I wasn't exactly sure how if I would like them, as I tend to be a little particular when it comes to the flavors of my chips, mostly because I usually want the dip to be the star. But these chips are so flavorful and delicious, they can't help but be the star. I got some basic salsa, mild of course, and it was DELICIOUS!! But I really feel like the chips need a cream-based dip, or no dip at all. They're so flavorful you really could eat them all on their own, straight out of the bag.

They sort of reminded me of the Doritos Cool Ranch or Nacho Cheese snack chips, but the Artisan chips have more interesting flavors. We got our bag at Target (we just happened to be there, but I've seen them in grocery stores and convenience stores too), and the listed price was somewhere between $3.49 and $3.99. A little on the high side, but most definitely worth the purchase. And I've seen coupons in the weekly circular for the past two weeks, so there are ways to save a little cash here and there. But, hand to heart, these chips are just the kind of yummy crunchy snack you need to spice up the appetizer spread at your next fiesta. Happy Snacking!

You Got the Job...Now What?

For the past 11 months (and something weeks), I've been struggling. I left a decent job because I wanted something different; I wanted to actually use my degree and step out of the reception shadows and into the sunlit roads of editorial land. To bide my time in between scouring the state (and surrounding areas) for employment, I baked. Muffins, cakes, pies, cookies, you name it, I made it. It was my release from the stress and disheartening reality that despite my delightfully charming demeanor, nobody wanted to hire me. Nobody wanted to hire anybody. Suffice it to say, the recession was kicking my ass. But by the grace of whatever deity you believe in, I now find myself employed, in a bakery of all places. And while normal people would be uncontrollably releasing bodily fluids during fits of pure excitement, I'm downing Pepto Bismal to stave off the nausea.

I spent four years working towards a degree in English so I could work in the editorial world. After graduation (and months of menial office work), I finally landed my first REAL job writing greeting cards for an brand new company. It took me just over six months to realize I did not belong stuck in the middle of the greeting card stacks. Too much rhyme and bland rhythm for me, but I still appreciate the value of their existence in my life (most of my friends receive cards on a semi-regular basis). I moved on to the nearest job available: enter the restaurant industry. This was quickly followed by another few months of menial office and reception work. Nothing too exciting, but I did manage to make a few new friends along the way. All the while, I kept sending out resumes, hoping for the leap into editorial to appear. But in the back of my head, I kept thinking about baking and the joy of pastry arts. I'd joke about opening my own bakery, what I would name it, what I would serve, how it would be decorated. I'd toy with the idea of going to pastry school, spending a semester abroad studying chocolate from the best in the world (Vive la France!). But something would come along and derail these musings, reality would come back into the mix, and the bakery slid back into the mist.

These past 11 months (and something weeks), I've wondered if my inability to procure gainful employment in the editorial world was not a testament to the continuing failure of the economy but a sign from the universe, urging me to actually pursue that lark of a dream resting in the pastry business. Through the magic of connections (because let's face it, it's all who you know), I walked into a local bakery a hopeful young woman, and came out an employee who starts her first day on Thursday. But what if I don't like it? What if this lingering dream I have of working in the baking and pastry arts field turns out to be a nightmare? Then what? The people I met with today, the owner and my manager, were nothing short of wonderful. Tough, hearty folk who appreciate a hard day's work, but still amiable and friendly. But what if this doesn't work out? There is more on the line than just employment this time.

Until those questions are answered, I take deep breaths, and hope for the best. Keep those fingers crossed people. We're nowhere near done.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Ok, so I got the dreaming part down, even if I only sleep two hours out of the night, I still manage to dream and, surprisingly, remember that dream. And golly, are those dreams weird. But what I don't have are normal sleeping habits. I don't think I've actually managed to sleep the full night through (without any type of sleep aid, organic or otherwise) since I was in high school. I usually wake up three to four times a night and unfortunately have a hard time falling back to sleep. Once I wake up, it's not like I'm in a foggy daze, take a stumbling trip to the bathroom, and quickly fall back into dreamland. Once I'm awake, I'm WIDE awake. Usually, I'll kill the time by reading part of whatever Jodi Picoult book I'm into at that time or watching a movie until I drift back into whatever warped scenario my subconscious unconsciousness concocts that night.

Part of my problem is my inexplicable paranoia. I go to bed every night with the notion that someone will try to break into my house, rob me and then kill me. Like a little kid checking for monsters, I double and triple-check the doors and windows to make sure they're locked; I can't sleep if my closet doors are closed because I'm convinced that an insane sex-offender is hiding in there; and if I'm sharing the bed with someone, I have to sleep on the side farthest from the door so if someone does break in, I have the best chance of running away because the killer will go for the easiest kill (ie the person closest to the door). I live in one of the safest neighborhoods in the safest town in the country. The last murder we had was almost nine years ago, and before that, it had been 30 years. The likelihood of someone coming to my town, to my house, just to kill me is laughable at best. But my paranoia is still an active part of my insomnia.

I've tried all the standard sleeplessness remedies: warm milk, no tv, no electronics, no food or exercise after 7pm, special sleepytime teas, a shower/warm bath, creams, lotions, scent sprays, the list goes on. I've tried over-the-counter sleep aids, which of course, make me groggy in the morning, zapping any and all motivation for the following day. Most of the time, I just deal with it. You get used to it. You don't like it, but you get used to it. However, if there's something out there that can "cure" the insomnia that I haven't tried, you better believe I'll try it.

My friend sent me an article explaining that the problem isn't insomnia itself but how we react to insomnia that determines whether we sleep or not. One of the tactics the article said to help alleviate sleeplessness was to "reset" the internal sleep clock. In order to do this, you essentially deprive yourself of sleep intentionally. Stay up an hour later than you normally would, wake up an hour earlier than you usually do, and resist the urge to nap. Do this for two weeks, then slowly, in 15-20 minute increments, reintroduce those removed hours back into your sleep pattern. It's day 2 and I am EXHAUSTED, more so than usual. I feel so out of it, like I'm moving in slow motion and my words get jumbled. Essentially, I feel drunk (tipsy, really) without actually imbibing, I can only imagine what I'll be like on day 14.

So, dear friends, cheers and sweet dreams.

I Have an Opinion, I Think

One of the promises I made to myself was to write more this year. I have journals that I keep for myself, a way to express whatever personal dilemma or quandary I find myself in. But then I also have this blog, which I'm terrible at updating, so I resolved to change that. The problem is that when I finally sit down at the end of the day and feel like I should write something, I can't think of anything to write.

One of the worst problems any writer can have is too much freedom. When you're in school and you're given a writing assignment, there's usually parameters. Write five pages on the demise of Hitler's Germany and the Nazi party. Compose 2000 words relating contemporary icons to the characters in Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales." Rarely do you have the opportunity to simply write whatever you want in whatever form you want for whatever length you want. And that's the most daunting task, like staring at the base of Everest knowing how far you have to climb till you reach the summit. And once you reach the actual summit, after that feeling of accomplishment has faded, you remember that you have to make it back down too. Similarly, once you figure out what you're going to write about, you then actually have to write it.

I could document my baking and culinary trials, as that seems to be quite the fad these days. Or I could chronicle my days as one of the ten-percenters, just trying to make it to the next billing cycle without incurring late fees. Or I could simply compile the trials and tribulations of island-dating, where everyone knows everyone and you can't make it through the grocery store without running into someone who you used to date (or someone who knows someone you used to date). But why would my scrawls be more interesting than someone who can actually offer advice and practical tips? I'm not a professional baker (yet) with years of experience, and a day in the life of the unemployed is really just not all that interesting. So, what now? What do I write about? Honestly, I just don't know. And maybe that's the problem with the decisions I'm trying to make about my future: I just don't know what I want to do or what I want to be. I'm five years old again, with no idea of what I want to be when I grow up.

I Love Us

I've spent a good portion of my life, more specifically the past 6 or 7 years of my life, putting everyone else first. My parents raised me to be hospitable and think of others before myself, and it's definitely a good way to live your life. But looking back, I feel like I've completely neglected my own sanity for the sake of ensuring the happiness of everyone else. Well not no more. While I fully intend on being the accommodating little girl that everyone has come to know and love, I'm going to make a conscious effort to make sure that I'm not sacrificing myself in the process. I over-analyze every comment before I make it, I wonder if my tone can be misconstrued or how the other person will take it if I don't respond with more than a few words. Screw it. If I don't want to talk to you, I'm not going to. I'll be nice and polite, but beyond that, I'm just not going to make the effort.

That being said, sometimes the most self-serving thing I need is a little quality time with my friends. Sometimes, in order to get a little "me" time and rejuvenate myself back into the game, I need some time with people who really know me. And those friends are some of the best people I have come to find. Some I've known for a long time while others are recent additions, but their existence is most definitely a welcomed presence in my life. These are the people who are always on the lookout for jobs that I might find interesting, who tell me I'm awesome when I'm feeling less than stellar. These are the people who will sit next to me for six hours while we do arts and crafts and talk about the madness of our lives, who tell me I'm going out rather than asking. These are the people who giggle excitedly over some stupid kids movie that should be well below my maturity level, and who share my love of kitchen appliances and inspire me with their culinary creativity. These are the people who make me feel a little more me each time I see them.

More Than Just a Number

Here is my obligatory health-related post. I would like to preface by stating that in no way, shape, or form is this blog going to become solely dedicated to my exercise and diet routines. It has always been, and will remain, simply a way for me to express my thoughts and get things off my chest. It's random and eclectic, no real direction or target audience. It's just me, sharing what I want/have to say.

As with the beginning of any new year, people flock in droves to their local gym; exercise dvd sales have skyrocketed; the blogs and youtube channels are overrun with people sharing their goals and progress. And it put a little spark in me. While I don't think I've ever been "fat," I have been out of shape. I've remained a size 4 (or 6) for almost all of my adult life. I've never been any size larger, so no, I've never been what's considered "fat." But that doesn't mean that I'm entirely happy with how I look. So I made a goal for myself: I'm going to get healthy and get my ass going. I'd like to rely more on eating the right food without feeling guilty than on not eating anything at all, to achieve the same results.

I asked a friend who's on her own quest for health happiness if she would be my workout buddy. We don't live near each other, so we've arranged a sort of pen-pal situation, but with cardio. We're going to keep each other motivated and share our goals but also our pitfalls and what triggers us to fail.

So here are my short-term goals:

1. Cardio at least 5 times a week
2. Toning at least 5 times a week
3. Drinking at least 3 bottles of water daily
4. Eating 3 meals a day

Today was day 1. So far so good.

Here's the staying motivated :-D

Revelation Shmevelation

I started this blog as a way to vent, to flesh out personal epiphanies, or simply share my views with the paltry few who find themselves with far too much time on their hands that they stumble onto my little bit of verbiage. Lately I've been noticing I rarely write more than once a month, which of course, leads me to wonder if my personal discoveries really happen that rarely. But then I remembered, who the hell cares? Not everything needs to be this grand illumination. Not every post has to include some form of sage advice. Sometimes, I just want to share my day. And thus, we begin.

There was all this talk of a "big" snow storm coming and my little area of the world was supposed to get two to four inches. People were buying up rocksalt like there was no tomorrow. I wake up this morning and without looking outside, call over to my folks' house to see if they needed help shoveling the driveway. For those who haven't had the pleasure of experiencing "the hill," my driveway growing was just that: a steep hill angled at around 45 degrees, so when you first pull onto my street, it looks like a dead end. Then you get closer and just when it looks like you're going to drop off the edge, you see the driveway and house. So you can imagine my joy when I moved into the Little Blue House with a driveway just big enough for a 4-door sedan. But I digress. I call over to the folks, Dad had just started shoveling, but Mom thought it would be nice if I helped. I told her to give me about 10 minutes to shovel my own driveway and scrape off my car, and then I'd be over. I bundle up in my blue marshmallow coat, my pink cable-knit hat (with very stylish ear flaps), put on my cutest reindeer socks (and even cuter blue wool socks, because, let's face it, your toes get cold when you're shoveling), slip on my boots and head outside.

There was most definitely not two inches, nor was there four. I'd say maybe about one-eighth of an inch...maybe. And because the sun was shining so delightfully, most of my driveway powder had already begun to melt. All I had to do was scrape off my car, and I was good to go. The story was a little different at my parents' house. While the powdered snow was easy enough to shovel off, the layer of ice underneath proved to me an interesting challenge. Thankfully, my father was one of the masses loading up on rocksalt, so all we had to do was open a bag or two and shabam! Dunzo. And being the forward thinker that he is, my father encouraged me to help him shovel the neighbor/aunt's driveway so they might be so moved to return the favor when the next snow hits (and they have a snowblower :-D).

After the driveways were cleared, I sat down with my parents for breakfast, one of my favorite weekend pastimes, as my father makes quite possibly THE best omelets ever. By the time I came back home, my driveway was entirely cleared (thank you, Mr. Sun). Got a fire going in my living room, put my itunes on random, laid down in front of the fireplace with my sudoku book, and enjoyed my afternoon. It was, to say the least, quite lovely. A few hours later, I met my parents for dinner at Ruby Tuesdays (which has EPIC biscuits and "holiday" sangria that makes me fall in love every time), then I sent them on their way to enjoy their date night at the URI Men's basketball game (and might I add, Rhody Rhody Rhody).

Nothing all that exciting or intriguing, but it was still a pretty good day. Fingers crossed that tomorrow brings just as much happiness. So far, despite a few days of WTF, 2011 has been pretty good to me.

It's All Attitude, Darling

As the holidays wind down and the year draws to a close, I hear a lot of people saying they can't wait for 2011 to start. While I fully consider myself a big fan of this year ending, I think I've handled myself pretty well. I've been unemployed since April, broke since August, had my professional heart broken at least three times, had my car broke down on four separate occasions (including two punctured tires), suffered through the agonizing pain of a strained back, and watched helplessly as a mouse climbed up my bed while I was still in it. I could go on and name the countless other gut-wrenching moments of complete negativity, but I'd rather not, for a couple reasons. First, because while there have been some pretty horrendous episodes of "WTF, Universe" playing on the Dori's Life channel this year, there have been some pretty amazing moments as well. For instance, three very dear friends and one very special cousin announced (officially) their engagement, and while this doesn't directly impact my life in any way, it's still a truly wonderful thing to be able to celebrate a hugely monumental milestone is someone's life. Secondly, it's just not in my nature to be negative for an extended period of time. While I can say without hesitation that in the past I've succumbed to the monster of defeatist attitudes and negative outlooks, I choose to rise above. I'd much rather spend my time smiling and looking on the bright side than wallowing in the muck of despair and self-pity.

My mother has always said, "Act happy and you'll be happy." I have to say, it's one of my favorite mommy-quips, and she's got some real doozies. Dwelling on the negative only makes you feel like your world is caving in faster. This is not to say that I don't have my moments of freaking out and crying and panic-induced nausea, because oh golly do I ever. But what does freaking out get you? It doesn't get you the job. It doesn't pay your bills. It just makes you more tense than when you started. It might be a nice release, a good way to let off some frustration, but at some point, you have to put on your big-girl panties and deal with the mess. So I choose to be optimistic. I choose to smile and be happy for my friends when they get fantastic news on the same day I get bad news. I choose to joke and laugh at the completely insane things that happen. I may put up a morose and pity-inducing facebook status, but ten minutes later, I'm most likely laughing about the insanity that has taken up residence in my life. So while the universe has decided that maybe 2010 wasn't my year, I decided it was my year to be challenged to stay positive. A challenge to my spirit and tenacity; do I keep fighting and keep looking or do I give up and slink back into the shadows of failure. In the words of my all-too-brilliant Mommy, I act happy so that eventually, I'll actually be happy. And after a few hours of puttering around the house, after my morning dose of Monster-Craigslist-Idealist, I face the world with a genuine smile and a happy "hello."

Some other Mommy-isms to live by:
What other people think of you is none of your business.
Whatever's meant to be will be. (quite possibly the family mantra as every woman in my family has said this to me at one time or another)
Those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. (Yes, she quotes Dr. Seuss)
Sometimes you just need to cry.

Got an Issue? Here's a Tissue

While talking with my father about his love (and my hesitation) towards cruise control, I told him that I've read far too many reports detailing faulty cruise control malfunctions for me to let my car drive itself. I jokingly reasoned that I have trust issues. The sad thing is that it's not really that much of a joke.

With the upcoming release of Taylor Swift's new album, there's been so much press about the meaning behind her lyrics, which song is about the hermano Jonas, which one is about John Mayer (what the whaaaaat??), or Taylor Lautner, or any other number of rumored romances. It got me thinking that this chick has been pretty screwed over by guys (I'm sorry but breakup by text message is just plain painful), and yet she has no problem just jumping into another romantic entanglement. If my love of her music wasn't enough, her fearless (pun intended) attitude towards love is overwhelmingly impressive.

As with a good majority of my posts, the inspiration for this particular self-realization came from a random itunes song. MoZella (a wonderful little singer I highly encourage everyone to check out) sums up my current view towards relationships in her song "Light Years Away." It's about looking back on how screwed up you are at the immediate moment of a breakup, and how it changes you. Not that I was ever any good at relationships to begin with, the last serious one I had took it's toll. Each time we fought, I was told he was trying to change but it wasn't going to happen overnight. But I can only be expected to wait around for so long. And while it's easy to sit and play the blame game, I will own up to my part in our downfall. I gave up long before we broke up and just waited for him to screw up. Towards the end, I started to realize that all the promises we made to each other were not going to hold up and I wasn't going to get my happily ever after. That realization broke my heart.

I don't let people into my life easily. I don't just have a guard up, I have a whole army. There are few times in my dating career when I took the wall down, and each time, without fail, I've been burned. This was the explanation I gave when this particular boy expressed his interest in pursuing a relationship. History has taught me to keep that armor around my heart, and once again, I was proven right. I don't regret that this particular relationship is over, not by a long shot. I wish him well and I hope his life works out the way he wants it to. But it still hurts when you think about the fact that it's been two years since you even talked to the someone you thought was your forever.

I'm not normally one for airing such deep emotional issues in the public square, but I feel like without some sense of acknowledgement then I'll never really get over this hurdle. So let's just consider this me chipping away at the armor.

Music to Scan To

While my new business venture is still in the early testing stages, basically testing to see if there's any demand/need for it, I've been spending a LOT of time at my computer and as such, have grown tired of my standard, go-to playlists. Thankfully, itunes has come through with a rare genius-generated mix that I would actually classify as "genius."


Saturday by The Rocket Summer
Bad Day by Something Corporate
Shine by The Plain White T's
She Paints Me Blue by Something Corporate
Movie Stars and Super Models by The Rocket Summer
Big Apple Heartbreak by Yellowcard
Time Stands Still by All American Rejects
What is Love? by Nevershoutnever
California by Nevershoutnever
Breakdown by The Plain White T's
Whoa by Paramore
Everywhere by Yellowcard
Can't Stand It by Nevershoutnever
Six Feet Under The Stars by All Time Low
Hurricane by Something Corporate
Cigarette by Yellowcard
Never Let This Go by Paramore
Umbrella by All Time Low
Manic Monday by Relient K
Fireworks by The Plain White T's
She's My Baby by The Rocket Summer
Mean Thoughts and Cheap Shots by The Rocket Summer
The Astronaut by Something Corporate
Time To Break Up by All Time Low
Keeper by Yellowcard

I am an admitted downloading fiend (often I'll just download songs by an artist I like without actually listening to the songs themselves), and because of that there are tons of songs in my library that I have not listened to. It's a nice surprise when they pop up in a new mix and I actually like them. The catalyst of this blog is "Saturday" by The Rocket Summer, who I first fell in love with after hearing "Brat Pack," a tune that still resonates with this third generation townie. And I'm sorry but who doesn't love a good Bangles cover?