The life and times of a working fashionista mom in rural Nebraska
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Come on now, girlfriend!
When will we, as women, learn to love ourselves and give up the idea of perfection?
I am all for self-improvement. I am a mental health therapist for God sake! To those of us who want to get in better shape and fit in to last year's dress- more power to us all! But, for those of us that want to be skeletal and unhealthy- Come on now girlfriend!
It's no secret I love fitness. I drink my shakes, I work out, and I try not to eat the entire restaurant when I go out. At the same time, I want to be healthy, happy, and minimize the amount of fat I am carrying around. I think these are all realistic goals. I don't have a problem with these goals. I do have a problem with goals that amount to unhealthy living, both physically and mentally.
I am of a certain age where it really does seem to get harder to stay within a healthy body mass index. Whereas I could eat pretty unhealthy, work out, and still fit in my skinny jeans 10 years ago, I now have to make better food choices while working out in order to fit in to my skinny jeans. And this is not really a bad thing because in the process I am making my insides healthier too. Most of my friends are of a certain age as well, so this topic of body image tends to crop up frequently. And I don't mind it when we can stay within the healthy, realistic realm. But when conversation goes beyond this, I find myself getting angry.
I am not necessarily angry at the person I am talking to... I am angry that we as women still put most of our value in a number on a scale. I am including myself in this, by the way, because I have my bad days too. And on these bad days I can be one bad picture, one rude comment, or one accidental step on the scale away from hysteria. AND WHY???
Because, you see, when one of my girlfriends or family members starts devaluing themselves, I am not far behind. We women want to blame men and society and blah, blah, blah, when we are doing it to each other! Last poll I checked, men like their women with curves. Last advertisement I checked, Dove is leading the way in normalizing curvy women. Now granted, we as a society have a ways to go but think about the last time you felt bad about your body and I bet it will be a conversation, comment, or look from another woman. Come on now, girlfriend! Love yourself first. The rest will come. Spend the energy you currently do on those last 10 pounds on loving yourself, living life, and giving back. The rest will come.
What about the amazing, loving mother you are? And the sexy wife your husband loves? What about how you work your ass off to clean your house, cook a meal, or bring home the second income? What do any of those things have to do with being a size 2?!
Health and happiness go hand in hand. A healthy body can fall within or just outside of a healthy Body Mass Index range of numbers.
Come on girlfriend! Together we can be happier women, I promise!
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
The "Not So Good Wife" needs to get in line.
I'm sure Sarah Paley thought making fun of Nebraska was a fun and original idea. Fun? Eh. Original? Epic fail.
Sarah, honey, get in line. If I had a dollar for every comedian who called us hearty pioneers who are corn fed, Runza loving, football fanatical, freaks of nature, I would be richer than Warren Buffett.
Yes, I get it. You are doing the whole, "I'll make fun of myself so I can make fun of you" thing. Preach to the choir, girlfriend. See, the problem is, us Nebraskans aren't only guiltless and hearty. We are also heartless and do not gladly suffer fools. You know the painting, "American Gothic"? Picture that image as our collective response to your article.
Now I could go on and on about how arrogant and condescending your article was, but that would be as boring as reading it. Instead, I have a list of must-see attractions for your next visit to our great state.
1. For Pantsuits: ???????? No clue, Sarah. I go for jeans, skirts and killer heels. Posh and Precious in Aurora, Nebraska, and Stefanie's Closet and Strut in G.I., Nebraska to name a few. Or see my friend, Melissa Griffith, at Conestoga Mall and get ready for the shopping adventure of your life.
2. For Pearls: SouthSeaPearl.com. Kerri Kliewer is a fabulous jeweler from Henderson, Nebraska who can rock a string of pearls.
3. For Flag Pins: Are you sure you weren't at Bingo night at the local Vets Club? (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
4. For People Cancelling a Social Event: You speaking at the next Nebraska Bowhunters Association event.
5. For Pop: Farmers Daughter and Sin City are a few of my fave restaurants in Grand Island, Nebraska where the food and POP, POP, POP, POP, POP are fantastic!
6. For Sacks: There is a Doctor Johns that will hide your latest sex emporium purchase in a Sack.
7. For Hunting Adventures: Call up Doc V or Doc J from Docs Wildlife Blends. They'll be happy to show you what you are missing. Then take your trophy to Osage Taxidermy in Hastings, Nebraska to show all your friends.
8. For Hearty Pioneers: If you're wanting to see actual pioneer garb and covered wagons, check out Stuhr Museum or the Great Platte River Road Archway. But if you want to see a modern day Nebraska woman you can write home about, go to the Platte River on a summer day and witness the kind of redneck fun fest your type could not handle.
9. For Billfolds: Well, better start saving up because Nebraska billfolds may get harder to find.
10. For Hysteria, Tantrums, or Sulking: You would be better off staying in Manhattan because us guiltless, hearty, "Little Engines That Could" Nebraskans simply don't behave that way.
Sarah, honey, get in line. If I had a dollar for every comedian who called us hearty pioneers who are corn fed, Runza loving, football fanatical, freaks of nature, I would be richer than Warren Buffett.
Yes, I get it. You are doing the whole, "I'll make fun of myself so I can make fun of you" thing. Preach to the choir, girlfriend. See, the problem is, us Nebraskans aren't only guiltless and hearty. We are also heartless and do not gladly suffer fools. You know the painting, "American Gothic"? Picture that image as our collective response to your article.
Now I could go on and on about how arrogant and condescending your article was, but that would be as boring as reading it. Instead, I have a list of must-see attractions for your next visit to our great state.
1. For Pantsuits: ???????? No clue, Sarah. I go for jeans, skirts and killer heels. Posh and Precious in Aurora, Nebraska, and Stefanie's Closet and Strut in G.I., Nebraska to name a few. Or see my friend, Melissa Griffith, at Conestoga Mall and get ready for the shopping adventure of your life.
2. For Pearls: SouthSeaPearl.com. Kerri Kliewer is a fabulous jeweler from Henderson, Nebraska who can rock a string of pearls.
3. For Flag Pins: Are you sure you weren't at Bingo night at the local Vets Club? (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
4. For People Cancelling a Social Event: You speaking at the next Nebraska Bowhunters Association event.
5. For Pop: Farmers Daughter and Sin City are a few of my fave restaurants in Grand Island, Nebraska where the food and POP, POP, POP, POP, POP are fantastic!
6. For Sacks: There is a Doctor Johns that will hide your latest sex emporium purchase in a Sack.
7. For Hunting Adventures: Call up Doc V or Doc J from Docs Wildlife Blends. They'll be happy to show you what you are missing. Then take your trophy to Osage Taxidermy in Hastings, Nebraska to show all your friends.
8. For Hearty Pioneers: If you're wanting to see actual pioneer garb and covered wagons, check out Stuhr Museum or the Great Platte River Road Archway. But if you want to see a modern day Nebraska woman you can write home about, go to the Platte River on a summer day and witness the kind of redneck fun fest your type could not handle.
9. For Billfolds: Well, better start saving up because Nebraska billfolds may get harder to find.
10. For Hysteria, Tantrums, or Sulking: You would be better off staying in Manhattan because us guiltless, hearty, "Little Engines That Could" Nebraskans simply don't behave that way.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
My chic lodge (For Larissa)
When I met Tim, I fell hard and fast... in love as well as in to country living!
Well O.K., I did live on a farm for about two years when I was really little, but all I remember about that is a big mean rooster who chased me until my dad butchered him. As a result, falling in love with a country boy was a big leap of faith. And it didn't take long for me to figure out that in order to actually spend time with the man of my dreams, I would have to learn to hunt.
My first hunting trip was across his dad's meadow to the huge carpeted and heated deer stand Tim and his dad built. JUST MY STYLE! We tip-toed past the buffalo (yes, buffalo) to the stand and settled in for an exciting deer hunting adventure.
Four hours and a nap later, there were no deer to be seen.
Turns out raising buffalo and keeping deer on your land do not necessarily go hand in hand. But, I will never forget the feeling of comraderie and adventure sitting in that stand.
Fast forward a few years and even more hours of spotting that hundreth doe, that millionth fawn, and many, many small bucks, and I was beginning to think hunting was for the birds. Makes a good visual, right?
Until I spotted that first nice buck! I was in our deer stand behind our house on the river with my husband. We were whispering (just like those guys on the hunting shows, mind you) and a broad 5 by 5 buck came out of the island on the river. Holy Buck!!! I quickly positioned my rifle while my husband whispered orders at me. "Hold your rifle against your shoulder... aim just behind his front leg... DON'T MISS!!!".
I missed.
"$#@*!"
Are you kidding me? Years of sitting in those stands while I would rather be shopping and I miss?!?!
My ego was bruised, right along with my shoulder.
Since that fateful day, I have wondered how many high maintenance girls would have just given up and gone back to full time shopping. I bet quite a few... but not this one!
Fast forward a few more years and I am in the deer stand with my father-in-law. We aren't in that glorious tree stand of his though because we still have buffalo! We are in that same stand behind our house where I missed that buck. So my father-in-law and me are whispering (just like those guys on the hunting shows, mind you) and the morning is slipping away quickly because he is telling me about how screwed up the world is:) I am just about to throw in the towel, when Mike whispers with great enthusiasm, "BUCK!". Now how he spotted that buck is beyond me because that 5 by 7 buck was standing perfectly still in tall weeds about 40 yards away. I can guarantee you that had I been hunting alone that day, I wouldn't have seen him in a million years. My heart is pounding and visions of missing that first buck are floating through my brain. I hold my breath, aim my rifle, and "BOOM!". Oh my gosh! Did I shoot? Did Mike shoot? Where's the deer?!
So I yell, "Did you shoot, MIke?!"
He said, "No I didn't shoot-you shot!!!"
"I did?!?!"
"Damn right you did!!!"
"Where is he?!?!"
"He's right there!"
"Is he dead?!"
"Yes! He's deader than $%!&!"
"Woo Hoo!", I yelled.
WHAT A RUSH!!! Mike told me later on he thought I might just jump right out of that deer stand. He also said that had I not shot in a few more seconds, he was going to!
From that day forward, I was hooked! I went from High Maintenance Huntress Wanna Be to High Maintenance Huntress!!
I have harvested more bucks, an elk, and a turkey since that day and Tim has harvested many deer, elk, turkey, wild boars, and I could go on and on. As a result, I have a house that a friend of mine, Larissa Schuele coined, "The Chic Hunting Lodge". It is a cool mix of hunting trophies and high maintenance decor, if I do say so myself!
Thanks, Larissa, for the blog suggestion, and stay tuned for more hunting adventures! Trust me, you will not be disappointed!
Well O.K., I did live on a farm for about two years when I was really little, but all I remember about that is a big mean rooster who chased me until my dad butchered him. As a result, falling in love with a country boy was a big leap of faith. And it didn't take long for me to figure out that in order to actually spend time with the man of my dreams, I would have to learn to hunt.
My first hunting trip was across his dad's meadow to the huge carpeted and heated deer stand Tim and his dad built. JUST MY STYLE! We tip-toed past the buffalo (yes, buffalo) to the stand and settled in for an exciting deer hunting adventure.
Four hours and a nap later, there were no deer to be seen.
Turns out raising buffalo and keeping deer on your land do not necessarily go hand in hand. But, I will never forget the feeling of comraderie and adventure sitting in that stand.
Fast forward a few years and even more hours of spotting that hundreth doe, that millionth fawn, and many, many small bucks, and I was beginning to think hunting was for the birds. Makes a good visual, right?
Until I spotted that first nice buck! I was in our deer stand behind our house on the river with my husband. We were whispering (just like those guys on the hunting shows, mind you) and a broad 5 by 5 buck came out of the island on the river. Holy Buck!!! I quickly positioned my rifle while my husband whispered orders at me. "Hold your rifle against your shoulder... aim just behind his front leg... DON'T MISS!!!".
I missed.
"$#@*!"
Are you kidding me? Years of sitting in those stands while I would rather be shopping and I miss?!?!
My ego was bruised, right along with my shoulder.
Since that fateful day, I have wondered how many high maintenance girls would have just given up and gone back to full time shopping. I bet quite a few... but not this one!
Fast forward a few more years and I am in the deer stand with my father-in-law. We aren't in that glorious tree stand of his though because we still have buffalo! We are in that same stand behind our house where I missed that buck. So my father-in-law and me are whispering (just like those guys on the hunting shows, mind you) and the morning is slipping away quickly because he is telling me about how screwed up the world is:) I am just about to throw in the towel, when Mike whispers with great enthusiasm, "BUCK!". Now how he spotted that buck is beyond me because that 5 by 7 buck was standing perfectly still in tall weeds about 40 yards away. I can guarantee you that had I been hunting alone that day, I wouldn't have seen him in a million years. My heart is pounding and visions of missing that first buck are floating through my brain. I hold my breath, aim my rifle, and "BOOM!". Oh my gosh! Did I shoot? Did Mike shoot? Where's the deer?!
So I yell, "Did you shoot, MIke?!"
He said, "No I didn't shoot-you shot!!!"
"I did?!?!"
"Damn right you did!!!"
"Where is he?!?!"
"He's right there!"
"Is he dead?!"
"Yes! He's deader than $%!&!"
"Woo Hoo!", I yelled.
WHAT A RUSH!!! Mike told me later on he thought I might just jump right out of that deer stand. He also said that had I not shot in a few more seconds, he was going to!
From that day forward, I was hooked! I went from High Maintenance Huntress Wanna Be to High Maintenance Huntress!!
I have harvested more bucks, an elk, and a turkey since that day and Tim has harvested many deer, elk, turkey, wild boars, and I could go on and on. As a result, I have a house that a friend of mine, Larissa Schuele coined, "The Chic Hunting Lodge". It is a cool mix of hunting trophies and high maintenance decor, if I do say so myself!
Thanks, Larissa, for the blog suggestion, and stay tuned for more hunting adventures! Trust me, you will not be disappointed!
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Club Sandwich, How I Adore Thee
C is for chicken, or turkey in my case,
L is for lucious, always in my face.
U is for ummy, or yummy if you can spell,
B is for bacon, the food of Gods like Mel (Mel Gibson before he lost his marbles).
S is for super, super duper good,
A is for always, always the best food.
N is for never, never leave me dear,
D is for dandy and even better with a beer.
W is for when, when can I eat you again?
I is for if, if only every when (??? Idk, it rhymed!)
C is for chicken, oh wait I used that before,
H is for heavenly, here, now, and forever more.
L is for lucious, always in my face.
U is for ummy, or yummy if you can spell,
B is for bacon, the food of Gods like Mel (Mel Gibson before he lost his marbles).
S is for super, super duper good,
A is for always, always the best food.
N is for never, never leave me dear,
D is for dandy and even better with a beer.
W is for when, when can I eat you again?
I is for if, if only every when (??? Idk, it rhymed!)
C is for chicken, oh wait I used that before,
H is for heavenly, here, now, and forever more.
Kids Say the Darndest Things
My kids are water bugs in the summer. As a result, you can find us every day at the local pool. Lexi is in that pool the entire time. Her only breaks are the required lifeguard ones. She jumps off the diving board, dives under the water with her goggles on to find lost treasures (usually a used band-aid), and splashes her little brother as much as humanly possible. Sammy dominates the baby pool and will even get in the shallow end of the big pool so that he can have a better vantage point of the pretty lifeguards (you think I'm kidding, but I am not).
Recently, we had quite the day at the pool. We grabbed a bite to eat and then Lexi announced she was going to change into her swimsuit. She quickly returned and then started frantically digging around in her bag. "What are you looking for?", I asked. "Well... It looks like I dropped my underwear!", she replied. "What?!", I exclaimed! Lexi then ran off toward the golf carts only to return with her underwear in hand saying, " Yep, dropped em by the golf carts,". "Nice", I replied, as I slowly put on my sunglasses and sunk lower in my chair.
Not to be easily scared off, I led my two precious babes to the pool. Lexi promptly jumped in the pool and was off to happy land. However, Sammy was a little slower to dominate the baby pool. So he decided to hang with me for a while and soak up the sun.
Much to my chagrin, I had a rare instance of feeling like I might need to "toot", as Lexi calls it. So I just quietly did, forgetting that my loud 2 year old was on my lap. Next thing I know, Sammy yells, "You farted mommy?!?!".
Now, I'm no Molly Manners, but this is just too much. The pack of pretentious teenagers are now laughing hysterically, and the mom sitting next to me is pretending to internet surf while she is texting her BFF about me.
So, I decide to go in to the snack bar to enjoy some healing chocolate since I already had my healthy Body By Vi shake!! Luckily I ran in to my friend and had a nice conversation about summer plans and lessons... wait a minute! We're late for cooking lessons! I holler to Lexi to get out of the pool because we're late. She yells back, "We're always late because you spend too much time on your makeup, mommy!!!".
Maybe next time I'll send the kids to the pool with a babysitter while I get a massage. "Sigh".
Recently, we had quite the day at the pool. We grabbed a bite to eat and then Lexi announced she was going to change into her swimsuit. She quickly returned and then started frantically digging around in her bag. "What are you looking for?", I asked. "Well... It looks like I dropped my underwear!", she replied. "What?!", I exclaimed! Lexi then ran off toward the golf carts only to return with her underwear in hand saying, " Yep, dropped em by the golf carts,". "Nice", I replied, as I slowly put on my sunglasses and sunk lower in my chair.
Not to be easily scared off, I led my two precious babes to the pool. Lexi promptly jumped in the pool and was off to happy land. However, Sammy was a little slower to dominate the baby pool. So he decided to hang with me for a while and soak up the sun.
Much to my chagrin, I had a rare instance of feeling like I might need to "toot", as Lexi calls it. So I just quietly did, forgetting that my loud 2 year old was on my lap. Next thing I know, Sammy yells, "You farted mommy?!?!".
Now, I'm no Molly Manners, but this is just too much. The pack of pretentious teenagers are now laughing hysterically, and the mom sitting next to me is pretending to internet surf while she is texting her BFF about me.
So, I decide to go in to the snack bar to enjoy some healing chocolate since I already had my healthy Body By Vi shake!! Luckily I ran in to my friend and had a nice conversation about summer plans and lessons... wait a minute! We're late for cooking lessons! I holler to Lexi to get out of the pool because we're late. She yells back, "We're always late because you spend too much time on your makeup, mommy!!!".
Maybe next time I'll send the kids to the pool with a babysitter while I get a massage. "Sigh".
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Cabo
This high maintenance girl was invited to go to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico last week, and what a lucky girl I was!! My husband co-founded Docs Wildlife Blends and "Sarge" from Aurora Coop sponsors the wildlife feed and mineral business that is Docs. Sarge owns two boats in Cabo, "Go Deep" and "Go Deeper". Sarge was headed down to Cabo to deep sea fish and we got to come along!
I am far from a world traveler but I've been to several places in Mexico and Cabo is the most beautiful place I've been. The water is a beautiful blue, the marina and surrounding shops are pretty and inviting, and the locals are so kind.
As you can imagine, I spent most of my time in the pool, lounging and relaxing as a good high maintenance girl does. The guys went out on the boats from early in the morning until sunset. This trip, the day before we left, I decided to try to be one of the guys. I went out on the "Go Deeper" in the morning with a sea sickness patch behind my ear and the Sea of Cortez on the horizon.
The day started really well with a cool breeze and calm waters. I kicked back, relaxed, and sang some tunes wthere he other sea faring gals (Bobbi and Sabrina who might as well be mermaids for their propensity for sea life). Then about mid afternoon, Sarge hooked up a big ol Marlin!! Knowing I was the fishing virgin of the trip, he yelled out, "Caroline! Grab the rod and start reeling!". Throwing caution and a lipstick refresher to the wind, I jumped in the chair and started fighting that marlin! I heaved and I heaved and I reeled and I reeled, all the while envisioning my success photo with that Marlin beast! My husband was coaching me and the excitement was palpable... And then that beast Marlin broke the line and escaped. Or at least that's my opinion- it couldn't have anything to do with my virgin fishing skills;)
Now, from there my fishing adventure starting going downhill. At no fault of the Go Deepers fearless captain, Frankie, (who by the way has won multiple fishing tournaments, making the Go Deep and the Go Deeper synonymous with success) I started feeling a bit queasy. Determined not to be the loser of the Go Deeper, I curled up on the deck and thought happy thoughts. Three hours later, it is clear to me that although I loved the experience and the company kept, sea life ain't for the faint hearted or for the high maintenance.
Thanks Sarge, Bobbi, Frankie, Sydni, and all of the other lovely Cabo friends who always make Cabo the paradise get away it is. And if you find yourself in Cabo, check out the Go Deep and Go Deeper and catch some big ol trophy fish like Sarge and Decker and Tim and Frankie and numerous others!! Tell em the Cows and Couture lady sent ya;)
I am far from a world traveler but I've been to several places in Mexico and Cabo is the most beautiful place I've been. The water is a beautiful blue, the marina and surrounding shops are pretty and inviting, and the locals are so kind.
As you can imagine, I spent most of my time in the pool, lounging and relaxing as a good high maintenance girl does. The guys went out on the boats from early in the morning until sunset. This trip, the day before we left, I decided to try to be one of the guys. I went out on the "Go Deeper" in the morning with a sea sickness patch behind my ear and the Sea of Cortez on the horizon.
The day started really well with a cool breeze and calm waters. I kicked back, relaxed, and sang some tunes wthere he other sea faring gals (Bobbi and Sabrina who might as well be mermaids for their propensity for sea life). Then about mid afternoon, Sarge hooked up a big ol Marlin!! Knowing I was the fishing virgin of the trip, he yelled out, "Caroline! Grab the rod and start reeling!". Throwing caution and a lipstick refresher to the wind, I jumped in the chair and started fighting that marlin! I heaved and I heaved and I reeled and I reeled, all the while envisioning my success photo with that Marlin beast! My husband was coaching me and the excitement was palpable... And then that beast Marlin broke the line and escaped. Or at least that's my opinion- it couldn't have anything to do with my virgin fishing skills;)
Now, from there my fishing adventure starting going downhill. At no fault of the Go Deepers fearless captain, Frankie, (who by the way has won multiple fishing tournaments, making the Go Deep and the Go Deeper synonymous with success) I started feeling a bit queasy. Determined not to be the loser of the Go Deeper, I curled up on the deck and thought happy thoughts. Three hours later, it is clear to me that although I loved the experience and the company kept, sea life ain't for the faint hearted or for the high maintenance.
Thanks Sarge, Bobbi, Frankie, Sydni, and all of the other lovely Cabo friends who always make Cabo the paradise get away it is. And if you find yourself in Cabo, check out the Go Deep and Go Deeper and catch some big ol trophy fish like Sarge and Decker and Tim and Frankie and numerous others!! Tell em the Cows and Couture lady sent ya;)
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Til We Meet Again (Ode to Chapman Pump and Pantry)
Til We Meet Again (Ode to Chapman Pump and Pantry)
By Caroline Jones
Til we meet again, my friend,
with your bug juice, and popcorn, and lovely chagrin
on the faces of clerks when they spy the next chump
who wanted ten Powerballs and no gas at the pump.
Your beautiful candy, and creamy ice cream,
your hot dogs, and hamburgers and pretty kids things.
Where will we go now to get fishing worms???
Dear Pump and Pantry at Chapman, my dear,
My heart breaks at the heat your store feared,
From the fire that stole our bread and baked goods
And our marshmallows we used to make smores in the woods.
Farewell, my friend, til we meet again,
May your bosses resurrect you make you in trend,
And add Starbucks and Subway and Cinnabon too,
So that we may delight again and romp and play too... friends til the end, Amen.
Road Rage- Sweet As Whole
"Sometimes I can be perfectly sweet
Got this sugar in me all stuffed up in my sleeve
And I'll talk of ponies and rainbows and things
and I'm just who you want me to be.
But like most of the creatures down here on the ground
I'm composed of the elements, moving around, and I grow and change and I shift and I switch
and it turns out I'm actually kind of a b!$*# ".
- Sara Bareilles, "Sweet As Whole".
Yet another song made me for me! I decided to open with this song on this fine morning because as happens most mornings, I experienced some crazy, intense road rage.
First of all, I will never understand the driver who is never in a hurry. Really?!?! You have NOTHING pressing in your life today?? Or ANY DAY?!?! This driver not only does not go the speed limit, he typically goes 10 miles an hour under. And... I am convinced he laughs maniacally to himself while you are stuck behind him for 5 miles. I have a picture in my head of this guy. He is the guy who controls everything in his life- from his early morning drive, to his Burger King breakfast with his buddies, to his trip to Menard's to find the cheapest lawn sprinkler. Then he stops by the local steakhouse for the early bird special where he demands perfection from the waitress and then refuses to leave a tip. Then back home, laughing all the way at the crazy blond cussing at him in the Nissan Armada. BAH!
Then there is the "Semi trap". I am not gonna lie here. This is the situation in which I completely lose my mind. In fact, I have said more than once that I am so glad there is not a video camera in my car, because if there was, I would be arrested for terroristic threats. This trap is total and complete crap. These guys are bored and tired and so they amuse themselves by lining up perfectly so that when you try to pass them, they quickly shift and box you in. All the while knowing that they've GOTCHA! Then they laugh maniacally (Yes, all jack wads on the road laugh maniacally- don't kid yourself) and call each other on their Cb's saying things like, "Did you see her face? HAHAHAHAHA! Let's keep her here for a good 15 minutes and see if we can get her to go postal!!!".
Now don't worry guys, I am not man bashing here because I will readily admit that women can be even worse. Because they can be passive aggressive in their tactics. AND they fool you with their sweet faces in the beginning... waving you through the stop sign. But then they turn on you! Something happens and they decide you have wronged them somehow with your wrong turn signal or failure to "thank you wave" and then IT"S ON! They will cut you off, swerve into the lane you're trying to pass them in, and tailgate you til the cows come home. All the while, keeping a serene look on their face. How do I know this? Because this is me.
So... the take home message is, do not make the Cows and Couture lady mad because I will make your life hell;)
Got this sugar in me all stuffed up in my sleeve
And I'll talk of ponies and rainbows and things
and I'm just who you want me to be.
But like most of the creatures down here on the ground
I'm composed of the elements, moving around, and I grow and change and I shift and I switch
and it turns out I'm actually kind of a b!$*# ".
- Sara Bareilles, "Sweet As Whole".
Yet another song made me for me! I decided to open with this song on this fine morning because as happens most mornings, I experienced some crazy, intense road rage.
First of all, I will never understand the driver who is never in a hurry. Really?!?! You have NOTHING pressing in your life today?? Or ANY DAY?!?! This driver not only does not go the speed limit, he typically goes 10 miles an hour under. And... I am convinced he laughs maniacally to himself while you are stuck behind him for 5 miles. I have a picture in my head of this guy. He is the guy who controls everything in his life- from his early morning drive, to his Burger King breakfast with his buddies, to his trip to Menard's to find the cheapest lawn sprinkler. Then he stops by the local steakhouse for the early bird special where he demands perfection from the waitress and then refuses to leave a tip. Then back home, laughing all the way at the crazy blond cussing at him in the Nissan Armada. BAH!
Then there is the "Semi trap". I am not gonna lie here. This is the situation in which I completely lose my mind. In fact, I have said more than once that I am so glad there is not a video camera in my car, because if there was, I would be arrested for terroristic threats. This trap is total and complete crap. These guys are bored and tired and so they amuse themselves by lining up perfectly so that when you try to pass them, they quickly shift and box you in. All the while knowing that they've GOTCHA! Then they laugh maniacally (Yes, all jack wads on the road laugh maniacally- don't kid yourself) and call each other on their Cb's saying things like, "Did you see her face? HAHAHAHAHA! Let's keep her here for a good 15 minutes and see if we can get her to go postal!!!".
Now don't worry guys, I am not man bashing here because I will readily admit that women can be even worse. Because they can be passive aggressive in their tactics. AND they fool you with their sweet faces in the beginning... waving you through the stop sign. But then they turn on you! Something happens and they decide you have wronged them somehow with your wrong turn signal or failure to "thank you wave" and then IT"S ON! They will cut you off, swerve into the lane you're trying to pass them in, and tailgate you til the cows come home. All the while, keeping a serene look on their face. How do I know this? Because this is me.
So... the take home message is, do not make the Cows and Couture lady mad because I will make your life hell;)
Monday, May 21, 2012
Rainbow Connection
Why are there so many songs about rainbows?
Lexi would say it's because they are rare and beautiful. Whenever she spies one, she squeals in delight and demands that I spy it with her. Then we talk about how wonderful and glorious they are!
Ever wondered what color of the rainbow you would be? No? Why would you?
Turns out I have and I've decided I would be on the outside somewhere. Not any of the middle colors because they are just too chill- too mellow.
I would definitely be more of a red. And not necessarily the prettiest red. I would be more the neon, in your face red. Like that crazy bright lipstick your grandma wore to Bingo. Or the neon red ghostbusters sign. Never dull, but never subtle either. Just in your face... OUT THERE!!
I could maybe be purple too. The purple of a huge, clutzy bruise. Or maybe the purple ooze of a grape, like the ooze of sarcasm.
But yellow is too cheery. It says, "Hi! I'm Suzy Homemaker! I just baked bread and planted my garden!!". As much as I can definitely cook and love being a mom , Suzy I am not. I can't imagine living even one day without the sheer joy of sarcasm and dark humor!!
And orange is a little too out there. Yes, it's vibrant and eye catching. But it also has a raucous edge that reminds me of an out of control toddler with orange kool-aid on his lips. Let's face it- I don't have that much energy.
And green, as much as I love it, it's just too earthy, too NATURAL! (Except the vibrant green for Visalus;) Green is for the J Jill girl who embraces her natural beauty and enjoys a great denim romper. The girl who takes one look at me and frowns with disdain at my excess and my RED-PURPLENESS.
Now blue? Maybe. Blue is chill but not in a way that green is. It has an edge. Blue is a mood and a music genre and my favorite color. Blue is cool. It's nice.
What's amazing is that all of the colors of the rainbow, as different as they are, all co-exist and compliment each other. A rainbow would not be so rare and glorious without every single one of those colors. So the next time you see a girl like me, think about that. And the next time I see a denim romper... Nope can't do it. So judge away and we will co-exist peacefully- each secretly smug that WE are the bomb!! HA!!!
Lexi would say it's because they are rare and beautiful. Whenever she spies one, she squeals in delight and demands that I spy it with her. Then we talk about how wonderful and glorious they are!
Ever wondered what color of the rainbow you would be? No? Why would you?
Turns out I have and I've decided I would be on the outside somewhere. Not any of the middle colors because they are just too chill- too mellow.
I would definitely be more of a red. And not necessarily the prettiest red. I would be more the neon, in your face red. Like that crazy bright lipstick your grandma wore to Bingo. Or the neon red ghostbusters sign. Never dull, but never subtle either. Just in your face... OUT THERE!!
I could maybe be purple too. The purple of a huge, clutzy bruise. Or maybe the purple ooze of a grape, like the ooze of sarcasm.
But yellow is too cheery. It says, "Hi! I'm Suzy Homemaker! I just baked bread and planted my garden!!". As much as I can definitely cook and love being a mom , Suzy I am not. I can't imagine living even one day without the sheer joy of sarcasm and dark humor!!
And orange is a little too out there. Yes, it's vibrant and eye catching. But it also has a raucous edge that reminds me of an out of control toddler with orange kool-aid on his lips. Let's face it- I don't have that much energy.
And green, as much as I love it, it's just too earthy, too NATURAL! (Except the vibrant green for Visalus;) Green is for the J Jill girl who embraces her natural beauty and enjoys a great denim romper. The girl who takes one look at me and frowns with disdain at my excess and my RED-PURPLENESS.
Now blue? Maybe. Blue is chill but not in a way that green is. It has an edge. Blue is a mood and a music genre and my favorite color. Blue is cool. It's nice.
What's amazing is that all of the colors of the rainbow, as different as they are, all co-exist and compliment each other. A rainbow would not be so rare and glorious without every single one of those colors. So the next time you see a girl like me, think about that. And the next time I see a denim romper... Nope can't do it. So judge away and we will co-exist peacefully- each secretly smug that WE are the bomb!! HA!!!
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The Legend of Billie Jean
Remember the 1985 movie, The Legend of Billie Jean? It debuted the song, "Love is a Battelfield", and was the story of a teenage girl intent on righting the wrongs of society. The Heroine became an icon of strength and rebellion by cutting off her long blonde hair and standing up for youth everywhere.
One guess as to who tried to look like Billie Jean that year. Epic fail.
So maybe I wasn't meant to be Billie Jean. But I was meant to help youth and fight for the underdog. There's something so challenging and rewarding about that. And let's face it- most of us have been there at some point.
I was the tall, skinny, awkward girl who could beat you in the 50 yard dash, sing you a song, and play a mean viola, but at the end of the day, I would have told you I was average and the underdog. My family didn't have wealth and privilege. When I went to Junior High I was not cool. Ever. So I can relate to the awkward teenager who walks in my office. And I will do my damnest to get that teenager to grow wings and fly.
There are some who would argue my high maintenance is overcompensation for that awkward girl who longed to be Billie Jean. But I think it's the end result of dreaming and believing and working hard to become the person that a young girl might say, "I want to be like her". And not just because I have on Jessica Simpson animal print heels. But because they saw my love of fashion and beauty and femininity and then were intrigued enough to figure out more about me. To figure out that I have an even deeper love of friends and family.
So I am not Billie Jean:) But I am Lexi and Sammy's mommy. And I am a wife and a friend and all of those other words that mean I am not perfect but I will still die trying! So bring on the Latisse and Botox and let's do this!
Hell- the cows can even watch;)
One guess as to who tried to look like Billie Jean that year. Epic fail.
So maybe I wasn't meant to be Billie Jean. But I was meant to help youth and fight for the underdog. There's something so challenging and rewarding about that. And let's face it- most of us have been there at some point.
I was the tall, skinny, awkward girl who could beat you in the 50 yard dash, sing you a song, and play a mean viola, but at the end of the day, I would have told you I was average and the underdog. My family didn't have wealth and privilege. When I went to Junior High I was not cool. Ever. So I can relate to the awkward teenager who walks in my office. And I will do my damnest to get that teenager to grow wings and fly.
There are some who would argue my high maintenance is overcompensation for that awkward girl who longed to be Billie Jean. But I think it's the end result of dreaming and believing and working hard to become the person that a young girl might say, "I want to be like her". And not just because I have on Jessica Simpson animal print heels. But because they saw my love of fashion and beauty and femininity and then were intrigued enough to figure out more about me. To figure out that I have an even deeper love of friends and family.
So I am not Billie Jean:) But I am Lexi and Sammy's mommy. And I am a wife and a friend and all of those other words that mean I am not perfect but I will still die trying! So bring on the Latisse and Botox and let's do this!
Hell- the cows can even watch;)
Thursday, May 10, 2012
FAKE NAILS
Yup, I get my nails done every 2-3 weeks, depending on how many dishes I've had to do and how many times the floor has to be scrubbed. (LOL!) And let me tell you something... nails are one of my least favorite high maintenance things to do.
The minute I walk into the nail salon, I feel like a kindergartner again. The first question is always, "What color do you want?" And, as if I were a kindergartner who did not know my colors yet, this exchange goes something like this: Me- "Red", Nail tech.- "NO! You don't want that color!! That color will not look right! You want PURPLE!".
At this point I just want to say, "Really?!". I mean aren't they my nails and my money? I don't get it.
And the bossiness does not stop there. Oh no. During my last visit, I pointed out to the nail technician that I had another salon do my nails because their business had a sign posted that they were closed for an emergency. I tell her this, because it really pisses these people off if they know you have not been back for a while. They will demand to know where you went to betray them. So I am expecting a response along the lines of, "Oh I am so sorry we were closed.". Nope. I get, "Where did you go?!?! Who did them?!?! Well, they did a very bad job!! You went to the wrong place!!!!!". Are you kidding me?! My response at that point was, "Perhaps you should have posted the appropriate place to go in case of emergency". GOOD GOD!
The other thing that really pisses these people off is if you give them a time limit. I often try to get my nails done on a lunch break from work so that I don't have to drive into town on my day off and juggle Sammy. So I tell them I have an hour. Well... then I get an eye roll, a hostile look at the clock, and a verbal berating directed at the neighboring nail tech as if I don't know she's calling me a stupid witch in her native tongue. I mean, it's an HOUR! It's not like doing nails is rocket science.
My friend recenty took her daughter to get pedicures. At some point in the process, the nail tech asks if this is, indeed, her daughter. When given an afiirmative answer, the nail tech proceeds to register astonishment and state that they do not look at alike because the daughter does not have a big nose! WHAT?!?! That nail tech is very fortunate Caroline Jones was not in that chair because the chair would have made its way up her patootie;)
The minute I walk into the nail salon, I feel like a kindergartner again. The first question is always, "What color do you want?" And, as if I were a kindergartner who did not know my colors yet, this exchange goes something like this: Me- "Red", Nail tech.- "NO! You don't want that color!! That color will not look right! You want PURPLE!".
At this point I just want to say, "Really?!". I mean aren't they my nails and my money? I don't get it.
And the bossiness does not stop there. Oh no. During my last visit, I pointed out to the nail technician that I had another salon do my nails because their business had a sign posted that they were closed for an emergency. I tell her this, because it really pisses these people off if they know you have not been back for a while. They will demand to know where you went to betray them. So I am expecting a response along the lines of, "Oh I am so sorry we were closed.". Nope. I get, "Where did you go?!?! Who did them?!?! Well, they did a very bad job!! You went to the wrong place!!!!!". Are you kidding me?! My response at that point was, "Perhaps you should have posted the appropriate place to go in case of emergency". GOOD GOD!
The other thing that really pisses these people off is if you give them a time limit. I often try to get my nails done on a lunch break from work so that I don't have to drive into town on my day off and juggle Sammy. So I tell them I have an hour. Well... then I get an eye roll, a hostile look at the clock, and a verbal berating directed at the neighboring nail tech as if I don't know she's calling me a stupid witch in her native tongue. I mean, it's an HOUR! It's not like doing nails is rocket science.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
So... I mentioned that I love to run:) AND I mentioned that the weather in Nebraska is unpredictable. Those two criteria = photo op above- YIKES!
Last Friday it was me and Sammy (Lexi is a 1st grader) and as is always the case, Sammy kept me very busy because he is quite vocal about his every want and need. By the time I was ready to load Sammy in the stroller, it was approaching noon. We have had warmer than usual weather and the sun was out so I was really looking forward to it! About a mile later, I was ready to collapse from heat stroke, and I am not exaggerating. At this point, I decide to look at the weather on my iphone. Um.... 90 degrees and humidity so high it would make a monkey's butt in the jungle look cool and inviting. What in God's name was I thinking?!
Now, most normal people would just turn back around and find air conditioning. NOT ME! Ol' exercise addict thought that would giving up too easily! I proceeded to run/walk 3 miles while panting, sweating, spitting, coughing, and considering drinking out of the cattle tank. All the while, Sammy is sleeping peacefully in his shaded stroller, dreaming of what life might be like with a normal mommy. This was a good thing because only the cows heard my cursing.
Days like these, I ask myself, "Why do I live in Nebraska?!". I have yet to come up with a good answer. I suppose it is mostly just because I was born and raised here and roots go awfully deep. And I do have to say I appreciate the wide open spaces and the good people who are our friends and neighbors. In Aurora, you still get the feeling that life is good and your kids are safe. BUT... these nice things come at a price! Absolutely ridiculous weather- if it's not cold and snowing, it's hot and humid and WINDY. And, on my runs there is always a nice array of stenches from road kill and cow dung. AND. last but not least there is extremely limited shopping unless you drive two hours east or hop online.
But, I am here and happily married with two beautiful children and wonderful family and friends. So, you take the good with bad and the Cows with the Couture!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
High Maintenance
Good morning! What a gorgeous morning in central Nebraska! Last night was a different story though. As is very common in Nebraska, our weather was crazy. Strong storms were predicted and all of us had an eye to the sky on guard for a twister. However, in our neck of the woods, we escaped any tornado activity. In fact, it was more like the fourth of July with lots of pretty lightning. Just south of us, Hastings got HUGE hail- softball sized in fact. It truly is day to day in knowing what to expect. We can literally have one day of bright, sunny skies, and the next: snow on the ground!
Speaking of weather, when you are a high maintenance girl like me, weather can be more than just annoying. I have my hair, makeup, and clothes down to a science and when wind, rain, snow, etc. mess with that; well it's kind of like a cat jumping on your computer and hitting the delete button after an hour's worth of unsaved work. Today the song, High Maintenance by Joanna Cotten came on my playlist and I had to giggle because I am pretty sure she wrote the song for me:) Here are a few lyrics:
You gotta curl them lashes
You gotta line them lips
You gotta know what flatters
the curviture of your hips.
We need a lot of experts
We're hiding every flaw
Going up against gravity
Breaking every natural law.
From head to heel
We gotta pump this up
It takes a whole lotta work
To get to that good love
It's HIGH MAINTENANCE!
I am always looking for that cute outfit, that new pair of killer heels, or that next magic mascara! I have come to love Latisse and my husband's new foray into Botox! Some call me shallow, but I like to call myself high maintenance because I truly do love to help others... I just really want to look good doing it!
I am also addicted to working out. I adore a long run and hate gyms but will saunter into them for the newest butt kicking workout. I really do love Zumba, Body Pump, and Jillain Michaels Ripped in Thirty. As I am approaching 40- ugh- I have found that I have to watch my diet more. So I watch my carbs, I drink my protein shakes after workouts and I live my life as healthy as possible without giving up the fun!
Better get back to work- I am a Mental Health Therapist at the High School and the proud mom of Lexi (7) and Sam (2). Hugs and Kisses to all you other high maintenance mamas and know that you can also enjoy Cows and Couture all in the same day:)
Speaking of weather, when you are a high maintenance girl like me, weather can be more than just annoying. I have my hair, makeup, and clothes down to a science and when wind, rain, snow, etc. mess with that; well it's kind of like a cat jumping on your computer and hitting the delete button after an hour's worth of unsaved work. Today the song, High Maintenance by Joanna Cotten came on my playlist and I had to giggle because I am pretty sure she wrote the song for me:) Here are a few lyrics:
You gotta curl them lashes
You gotta line them lips
You gotta know what flatters
the curviture of your hips.
We need a lot of experts
We're hiding every flaw
Going up against gravity
Breaking every natural law.
From head to heel
We gotta pump this up
It takes a whole lotta work
To get to that good love
It's HIGH MAINTENANCE!
I am always looking for that cute outfit, that new pair of killer heels, or that next magic mascara! I have come to love Latisse and my husband's new foray into Botox! Some call me shallow, but I like to call myself high maintenance because I truly do love to help others... I just really want to look good doing it!
I am also addicted to working out. I adore a long run and hate gyms but will saunter into them for the newest butt kicking workout. I really do love Zumba, Body Pump, and Jillain Michaels Ripped in Thirty. As I am approaching 40- ugh- I have found that I have to watch my diet more. So I watch my carbs, I drink my protein shakes after workouts and I live my life as healthy as possible without giving up the fun!
Better get back to work- I am a Mental Health Therapist at the High School and the proud mom of Lexi (7) and Sam (2). Hugs and Kisses to all you other high maintenance mamas and know that you can also enjoy Cows and Couture all in the same day:)
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