Its official...its on Facebook.

I have realized that despite me being in my 30's now some things really just don't change.  Take declaring yourself as in a relationship for example.  As some of you might have guessed, or heard, or imagined in your dreamiest of dreams I recently started dating someone **pause for thunderous applause** and the other day my Manfriend and I....we will call him MP for now (no explanation--just enjoy it)...had "the talk" about moving from "dating" to officially labeling ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend.  It is so silly how reluctant and weird I was about transitioning from dating to calling him my boyfriend.  As my trusty blog sheriff Julie asked me: what is the difference between "dating" and boyfriend/girlfriend?  There is a big difference...in my most humble bloggy opinion.  It is kind of like making the jump from being engaged to being married.  That is a huge step is it not?  When you go from being engaged to being married some say you just sign a simple piece of paper, however that piece of paper will cost you an arm and a leg and a whole lotta drama if you want out of that marriage.  Same goes with going from dating someone to being their boyfriend or girlfriend.  When you are dating someone you can simply stop returning their phone calls...or texts...(does anyone really call each other anymore?) and then relationship is over.  When you are someones boyfriend or girlfriend you actually have to break up with the person in order for it to be over.  I mean yes you could just stop returning their calls as well, but chances are they have keys to your house that you gave them when you were all boyfriend-y and girlfriend-y and then comes the awkward moment of them just showing up at your house...in the middle of the night....angry...you get what I am saying.  So call me gun shy, call me a chicken, call me an effing heartless relationship phobic biatch but I was a little reluctant to move from just dating to "label land".  However after much persuading (ok it was mild threatening) from our trusty friend Julie I realized that if I liked MP enough...which I do...then I was being silly (ok bitchy but its the holiday season still so we will use clean words...for the baby cheez-it) by not...oh dear how did Julie put it...yelling my new found relationship status from the top of the highest mountain top.  So in this age of technological advancement (AKA our sick obsession with social network sites) I knew that the highest mountain was Facebook...and the loudest yelling I could muster was the good ol relationship status change.  So I bit the bullet my dear friends, and I changed my status from single....to in a relationship.

Mama needs a cocktail.

Cheers.

Good morning and salutations!

Hello dear friends!  It is Wednesday, it what has to be the longest week of all time...of ALL TIME.  That could be for many reasons: one--I hate my job, two--I am 32 hours away from a 12 day vacation from said hell-on-earth job, and three--because it is almost CHRISTMAS TIME!!  So yes...like I said this week has been the longest week.  Ever. 

So I know that I wrote a few posts ago that I have not been a good girl and I have neglected my blogging responsibilities, and then I didn't really remedy that problem and I continued to ignore my post.  Please do not think that it is because I don't love the fact that my random spasms of blogs don't bring the 5 of you that read them joy because that is not the case!  Blame it on Julie for not nagging me to post stuff, blame it on my mind going into a romance induced mooshy state (thank you Match.com...I really have not thanked you enough), blame it on the rain...whatever you blame it on know that I love you all, each and every one of you. 

As we all know, unless you have been living under a rock and have therefore lost all sense of time--if that is the case welcome back--we are in the thick of the holiday season!!  The time of year that I lustfully wait for is upon us!  This year I do have to admit--hold for anticipation--it took me a few days to get into the whole "Christmas Time Is Here" spirit.  **HUGE GASP** I know I know!  Never fear my friends your "Christmas Queen" (Charlie Brown reference...anyone?...anyone?) came to her senses and my house is appropriately decorated so that I may keep my title...although it ALWAYS needs more decorations and I have been stead fast at working on achieving a certain level of "Christmas has thrown up everywhere".  Still working on it.  Every year I pack up my holiday decorations (all whilst sobbing and drinking lots of wine...which I am not sure if it makes it hurt more or hurt less...I should conduct a study--while drinking wine of course), and every year I swear I have enough decorations.  Then the next year the day comes when I pull out my decorations and I am met with a sense of horror at my inadequate amount of decorations!  It literally puts me into a panic attack at the audacity of myself thinking that I in any way call myself the Christmas Queen at all.  How does this happen?  Last Christmas I was so happy staring at my loot of decor like a pirate staring at a treasure chest of gold, and this year I am left crying hysterically in a corner while tearing my hair out and the sight of the 2 broken Christmas ornaments that make up my stash.  So this year I have decided I am going to get 4 new Christmas boxes...the red and green kind...we all know them and know them well.  I am going to fill those babies to the brim with Christmas decor and dag nab it, if I still am thrown into a state of discontent next year when I open up the boxes...well then I just don't know.  I guess in reality...what would Christmas be without a famous Hattie meltdown?  I mean really!

Tis the season!

When I am wrong I am wrong.

One of the golden nuggets of wisdom my mom taught me growing up is when you are wrong, admit you are wrong and appoligize for it.  So folks, I was wrong, and I am sorry.

Match.com works.

The end. 

More later :)

I AM BACK!

Hello dear friends!  I am so sorry I have left you lonely and abandoned for so long!  I have been on vacation and have neglected my blogging duties and for that I am very sorry.  However I think that if you hear what I have been doing in the last few days since we have spoken you shall forgive me :)  So in the last few weeks huge things have happened!  I finally turned 30!!  Remember that huge countdown I was doing...you remember...the one I would not stop talking about.  Well it finally came and went, as countdowns inevitably do, and wow was it a rockin good time!  My wine tasting trip up to the valley was a blast and a half, and while only 8 of the 20 that RSVPd were there, it was still a fun time.  We drank buckets of wine, and rocked out with out corks out!  Then came the weekend of Disneyland where my 3 best friends in the entire world converged together to join me in my happiest place on earth.  It was a great time filled with tons of wine (naturally) and lots of laughs.  What a special way to ring in a new decade.  My actual birthday was pretty mellow, with my sister and myself doing a little wine tasting and a little happy hour action, and then home to watch Disney movies--my sister really is a champ when it comes to my love for that cartoon mouse :).  So now I am 30, it has happened.  I have to say, much like everyone told me, it really didn't hurt as bad as I thought.  So far I find that 30 is looking good on me.  More about that later...hahahaha.

Cheers to being fabulous and 30!

Remembering what we are thankful for.

The holiday season is upon us, and while I think that some places have jumped the gun a smidgy-poo early on the Christmas decor (day after Halloween is stretching our luck a bit) I love me some holiday season so I will secretly clap my hands with joy at this.  With Thanksgiving right around the corner and people (myself included of course) are already consumed with planning their holiday menus, starting their Christmas shopping, and rocking out to Frank Sinatra Holiday CD's (and I know it is not just me!) I want to take a moment to remember one of our more important holidays: Veterans Day.  This momentous holiday is all too often looked over because of the twinkle and sparkle of the other more glittery holidays, however it is because of Veterans day that we are even able to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas (and anything else).  The day before Veterans day: November 10th 2011, is the Marine Corps 236th birthday.  Everyone who knows me knows that I love me some Marines and nothing makes me more proud then my little brother John, my favorite Marine.  Today I would like us all to remember how fortunate we are to have freedom, a freedom that most of us didn't pay for ourselves, but that someone--like my brother--earned and continues to earn for us.  Remember all of those that raised their hand when we did not to ensure that this freedom is protected at all costs.  That stood in line and offered their lives for ours if and when it is ever needed.  Marines (and other soldiers) don't get to pick their war, they don't get to choose their fight.  They go where they are needed.  They fight with honor, bravery, and valor.  So much is asked of them and yet so little is given back to them.  As we all gather in the next few weeks with our friends and family whilst we stuff ourselves to the brim let us all please remember the men and women that don't get to be with their families on these days because they are doing a greater job somewhere else.  All over the world there are men and women that are eating an MRE for Thanksgiving dinner, and spending Christmas night not by a crackling fire but sleeping in a cold bunker half way around the world.  Remember these men and women and give thanks that we have people like them protecting all that we hold dear.

Happy Veterans Day!  Happy Birthday Marines!  Ooorah!  :)

t-minus one week friends....

We are officially one week away from the big 3-0!!  It is kind of weird to think that I started this countdown the day I was driving back from Disneyland on my last birthday and BAM! here we are...one little week away!!  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

That is all for now...I am going to go curl up in a corner and cry...or go home sit on the couch and drink a bottle of wine...you say tomato I say tomaaatoe ;)

Gone fishin'

Sometimes I wish there weren't so many fish in the sea.  Recently I have found myself wishing I was back in "the olden days" when you got to a certain age you were just paired up with someone.  Wam bam you had yourself a husband.  Forget that you were 12 and he was probably your cousin, that is neither here nor there, the point is you didn't have to go on countless blind dates or battle through myriads of men looking for a mother or a meal ticket.  I am sick of the dating world.  The other night while talking to a dear friend of mine about my past relationships my roommate interjected by asking me "have you ever dated someone normal?!" and I thought about it for a second and after much serious contemplation with lots of eye squinting (squinting helps you remember those that you choose to forget...trust me) I could only think of one person that I have dated that was semi normal.  I use the word dating with him very softly as it was more of a friendship that turned into us living together...in a one bedroom...one bed...ok you see where I am going.  So technically that wasn't really "dating".  There was no "I love you", in fact I remember the first and only time he said "I miss you" and it was weird.  Ok so ya, I have never had a "normal" relationship.  After being single for over a year...yes over a year you heard me right...and after several failed attempts by my lovely friends to set me up with someone I have ventured into the world of online dating.  **HUGE GASP**  I know I know!  I have to admit I fell for those eHarmony commercials like a lead balloon.  It was bad.  Not to mention the months and months of my friends suggesting...ok demanding...me to try online dating.  I guess my endless cat stories are getting old and they would rather hear something other then what Lyla did this morning..I can't understand why.  Anyway, I signed my single self up for online dating thinking, hoping, wishing, and yes praying that something would happen that would give me something else to do on a Saturday night other then drink wine and love on my cats.  Not.that.I.am.complaining.  *Ahem...haters* Well my fair weathered friends let me just tell you the online dating world is NO BETTER then wandering into your local watering hole and meeting all of the creepy-mc creepers that are there giving you the googly eyes.  The way online pimps get ya is to send you ENDLESS emails about so-and-so and how they could be a match, or how they want to communicate, or whatever and you get these ridiculous questions and weird "ice-breakers" that make no sense and then when you try to communicate you can't tell if your damn message was sent or if you sent it 4 times on accident and now he thinks you are a stalker...amazing.  PLUS...and not to sound shallow, I know Victoria's Secret isn't beating down my door for me to do a cover shoot, but FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS CLEAN AND HOLY these men are NOT attractive.  Now I don't need me some Christian Bale look alike...I would LOVE it...but I don't NEED it.  See what I have learned in my old age?  However some sexual attraction would be nice!  Some sort of...oooh he's cute...would be preferable!!  Like I said before, this is not the 1700's when all I have to pick from is my cousin, or the widower black smith with one hand.  I SHOULD HAVE SOME OPTIONS!  So yes, after my first few weeks of online dating I think it is safe to say it is no better fishin online then it is fishin in a dive bar...and at least with a dive bar you have booze and we all know everything is better with a little booze!! 

Why can't my work day go by this fast?

All year I long for the holiday season.  I am obsessed with anything fun and festive and nothing embodies the fun and festiveness that I love like the months of October, November, and December.  I am that person that experiences a state of euphoria while putting up holiday decorations and like wise goes through a kind of depression while I put away these holiday decorations.  I feel like all year I am waiting and waiting and waiting to get to this time and then FLASH its over and I am back to being sad and counting down until the next holiday season.  Same happened this year with October.  It flew by so fast the fake spider webs I put up for Halloween almost blew away.  Zoom!  Why can't my work day go that fast?  Tonight I have my sad chore of putting away all of my cute little tea-light ghosts and bats and witchy hats.  I am mildly comforted with the idea that I don't have to put ALL of my decor away...the pumpkin spice candles and sparkly autumn leaves can stay out to welcome November (my birthday month...ahem...) get to stay out.  Soon...like tomorrow soon...I will further distract myself with the construction of my Thanksgiving menu, to be followed closely behind by the creation of my evite for the 2nd annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party, and then Christmas shopping and tree shopping, and more decorating...all to be filled with copious amounts of Sees Candy!!  Ooooh you holiday season!!

(I included a picture of The Ninnie because she looks so precious hidden--or trying to hide--amongst the presents....and because I love cats...oooh so much)

Hello writers block....

The thing about writing a blog is...you have to have people that actually read your blog for it to be successful, because without people reading it you are just rambling on and on into the great blue yonder of the world wide web.  I have had a raging case of writers block recently...otherwise known as PMS...and I have been more cranky then inspired.  This morning as I was procrastinating working, per usual, I was reading The Pioneer Woman's website (which I HIGHLY recommend).  She is hilarious and I read a part of her blog that gave some advice on how to blog successfully.  One of her suggestions was even when you have writers block--->me<---you should still write.  Write about nothing, post a picture, write about your morning routine, about the microwave dinner you had last night, etc.  She also said that a blog exists because of its most loyal readers and that a blogger should thank them as often as possible for making your senseless Internet ramblings feel important :)  So today I am dedicating my writers block blog to my friend Julie because of her constant encouragement --some might call it nagging but that might be the PMS talking ;)--and praise for my blog...no matter what nonsense I blog about...and for her pestering (again nagging...oh that evil PMS!) for new blog posts.  Thanks Julie for all of the blog love and support! 

Oh!  And a kitty picture, cause what doesn't make you feel all warm and fuzzy other then kitties?  Well wine does that too....mmmmm wine.

If you cook it...they will come...

Ok so recently I have been having trouble getting friends and family together for dinner because of all of our conflicting schedules!  I mean when did we get so busy people??!!  As you all know I have a serious addiction to getting people together and planning events for no good reason (which is a great reason in itself) but its hard to have these ooberly amazing get togethers when no one shows.  So as we inch into my favorite cooking season (my crock pot and I our best friends) I have been worried that I wont be able to have some riotous dinner parties with everyone being so busy.  Then I had a thought...if you cook it...they will come.  There is something to be said for most people (not me) where planning ahead hinders their decision making...why this is I do not know I am a crazy cat lady not a psychiatrist...and sometimes if you just say "dinner at my house tonight!!" with about 2 hours notice people tend to show.  This is a strange idea for someone like me who usually plans out her schedule weeks in advance (less because I am oh so popular and more because I am a control freak and I drool over the idea of filling the little boxes on my calendar with fun stuff to do!  Yippie).  That is the plan then: if I cook it they will come.  I will start by crafting up a soup tomorrow evening.  This is kiiiind of a side-ways way of me getting rid of stuff in my freezer--don't judge--just eat.  I have had a ham bone and cut up ham in my freezer since...well since the last big holiday when you eat ham (I am not going to get specific it has been so long, so if you guess I am not going to admit it--ADMIT NOTHING).  I am going to dump--in a very epicurean fancy chef way--a ton of ham and beans and onions and carrots and other fun stuff into my trusty crock pot (I just decided to name him Lewis) and then...Lewis...(it will catch on) will spend all day making those ingredients all warm and cozy and delicious.  Then I will send out a text and say: dinner at my house, come and get it.  I can hear the thundering foot steps as people run through my door waving their bowls and spoons over their heads.  It'll happen.  Try and deny me now dear friends!!!!

Don't drink the water.....

Don't drink the water!  It is making everyone pregnant!!! 

For a while now it seems not a day goes by when another friend of mine announces they are pregnant.  Each time I am met with the same inner response of:  REALLY?  Why in the hell are you having a baby?!  Then I remind myself that I am not 14 anymore and it is perfectly acceptable for women my age (remember...30...rockets...warp speed ahead...ya I knew you would remember).  I love baby showers (but not dry ones, not all of us should have to suffer and be sober), I love the smell of babies, their cuteness, the idea of a new life, I love it all.  Just.not.for.me.  In fact when I even think about the idea of having a baby I imagine myself running down a dark hallway in an abandoned building, arms flailing, tripping over my own feet--which by the way you never do when you are running normally, but it seems to ALWAYS happen when you are running from something scary...like pregnancy...ok just go with me on this one.  So I am always running from it, sweating, and tripping, and I just get away by hiding in some rusty filing cabinet (how I fit in there is neither here or there, it is a nightmare and crazy stuff just works in a nightmare).  When I was a kid, or even a few years ago, I would have never thought that I would come to the conclusion that I don't want children.  The way most little girls are raised--intentionally or not--it is part of being a woman.  We grow up to get married and have families.  I don't remember once, not once, someone telling me when I was younger "you don't have to have babies and get married".  Not once.  Funny because it is totally ok.  Not every woman has to get married and not every woman has to have children.  I am totally content with being "Auntie Hattie" to every precious little bundle that all of my friends have (and at this pace they are having like rabbits :D ).  Auntie Hattie with her ever full glass of wine, her kitty cat hair covered sweater, and her quick ability to give you a kiss or a stern slap on the ass...which ever is needed at that moment :}  I thank all of the ladies out there that are taking one for this crazy cat lady and populating the world with precious babies so I can have more cats...and drink more wine.  Cheers to you!

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish

There has been a lot of death and tragedy in my world recently.  Some close to home, others not so close to home but still very sad to hear about.  Yesterday Steve Jobs, the co-founder of Apple and Pixar, lost his battle with cancer and while I did not know him personally I felt the loss of a true visionary, and a man that took the phrase "everything happens for a reason" seriously.  I have said before in my blog that it chaps my ass when things are not going right in my life and someone has the nerve to say "Don't worry, everything happens for a reason".  My instinct is to respond: f*ck you.  Not very lady like I know, but let the truth be told: I don't do many lady like things when I am upset.  In 2005 Steve Jobs gave the commencement speech at Stanford University and for such an intelligent man that could have talked about anything he chose to give a speech that focused on the idea of allowing life to take its course, that yes everything does happen for a reason no matter how horrible it may seem.  Not being able to afford rent or food, getting fired, being told you have a debilitating disease; all of these things are horrible life changing moments but according to Steve Jobs it is what made his life as amazing as it is.  All of those "dots" he saw and leading him to where he was suppose to be, and while it is a struggle to get through them at times, he encourages us to embrace the good with the bad and to use that to push us and to give us drive to strive for happiness and excellence.  He took himself from collecting bottles to feed himself, to founding the most powerful and innovative computer animation company on the planet.  He was not super privileged with family money or connections, he did it with hard work and determination to follow his heart and live his dream. 

I have to admit I fall all to often into the mental obis that happens when things don't go my way or when the world starts to pile hurdles in front of me.  I think we all do.  I vow that from here on out I am going to remember Steve Jobs and his great speech and his advice:

                    "Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

---Steve Jobs

Listen to the rhythm of the pouring rain....

It is October 5th now, and for those of you that read my last posting about the reoccurring dreams that I have be REST ASSURED I had all of my Halloween decorations displayed in all of their glory by noon on October 1st.  **Huge sigh of relief felt around the world**  Naturally, as with every year, I feel like I need (not want...need) more decorations as it doesn't really feel like Halloween threw up all over my house yet...and I stress yet.  This is the beginning of my favorite season.  The cold weather...which in reality it never gets cold in Santa Barbara...however if that thermometer even THINKS about dipping below 60 degrees you will see folks around here dressed up like a freaking Thomas Kinkade Winter Wonderland painting...no joke.  I can't wait for it to get "cold" so I can dust off the ol dutch oven and my trusty crock pot and fill my house with the delectable scents of fall time comfort foods!!

I woke up in the middle of the night last night to the sound of pouring rain and I immediately thought it couldn't have come at a better time.  Rain forces us to slow down our normal day-to-day and encourages us to head inside, cuddle up with some hot cocoa or a large glass of red wine (juuust sayin), and reflect on life (or in my case watch Law and Order SVU marathon).  Gloomy weather also feeds a ravenous desire in me to cook something comforting, something warm, and something that has nothing to do with healthy or leafy.  No sir it does not.  We are talking potatoes, meat, lots of "sauciness" to sop up with (Atkins dieters beware!!!)  HUGE pieces of crusty bread!!  Ohhh my mouth waters just thinking about it.  I love the idea candles lit everywhere, Frank Sinatra blaring on Pandora, bottles of wine being opened (oh how I love that popping sound!), and a gaggle of ladies standing around my kitchen as a large pot of meaty, potato-y, goodness bubbles away on my stove.  As I have said before this is my season, this is my favorite time of year. 

This weekend I have planned to make my inaugural roast of the season, and if I can remember to take pictures of it before it gets devoured...last time I remembered as I scraped the last bit of gravy off of my plate...I will take pictures!  Less to show you my cooking skills **breaths on finger nails and polishes them on sweater** and more to brag about a belly full of amazing meat and potatoes!  **Rubs belly with satisfied grin on face**  (ok that one went too far......)

Gettin sh*t done!!!

I have 3 reoccurring dreams:  1) I discover it is the day of Halloween and I have not put up a single Halloween decoration and I am overcome by stress and guilt and anger.  2) My Christmas tree has turned brown (either by magic or because I forgot to water it...it changes every time) and I am crying over the question of whether or not I take all of the decorations off and go and get a new one.  3) I am running to the airport (late) and I am on my way to somewhere in Europe and I realize as I am picking up my plane ticket that I don't have a passport.  Not that I forgot mine, no, that I don't have one. 

While the first two dreams shine a spot-light on my OCD fascination with over planning and overdoing things...particularly around the holidays...the third one brings into focus the issue of me a) not having traveled anywhere in the world (and I mean anywhere...not even to the 18 year old infested, puke covered streets of TJ after high school graduation) and not only not having been anywhere but not even being prepared to GO anywhere.  If someone today said "I have a plane ticket to **insert amazing destination here** do you want to go?" I wouldn't be able to go because I don't have a passport.  So while I sit and dream of going to exotic places one day I am doing myself a disservice by not even taking the smallest of steps and getting a passport, which is needed to travel, because as shining as my smile might be it wont get me into another country...sadly.  So my mission for next week...to apply for my passport.  Then I will officially be able to say: have passport--will travel :)

Then the world will truly be my oyster.

**ok so I was going to put a picture of planet earth on this entry to drive home the "Hattie is taking the world by storm" (once I get my mittens on a passport) but instead I chose a picture of a shark because little brings me joy more then scaring my sister :)

Hello my name is Hattie and I have an addiction.

I have an addiction.  I am addicted to event planning.  I am addicted to the rush I get, the happiness I feel, and the undeniable and inevitable stress that planning an event (big or small) brings.  I have embraced the fact that I have this addiction and I have even asked for help at times from my friends and family to curtail my blood lust for planning events.  Any time I get wind that there is a birthday coming up, a promotion at work, a pets birthday, or a day ending in "y" I get this overwhelming sensation that we should do something to celebrate!  I immediately get visions of sparkling wine glasses, overflowing trays of appetizers, and friends and family gathered around laughing and joking.  Very Hallmark.  The problem with this addiction comes in many shapes and forms.  First off, despite our world being taken over by every kind of gadget, social networking site, email, text, skype, whatever it may be, I find it difficult if not impossible at times to get any kind of response from people whom I want to invite.  No matter how many text messages, emails, facebook chats I send people there are times when I can not coax a response from someone any easier then asking a fat kid to give up a cupcake.  Not.gunna.happen.  I have to say that sometimes I get offended by these non-responses because I always think clearly it is me and not this most fabulous event I am planning that is turning people away because who wouldn't just love to sit around and gossip whilst sipping wine and eating yummy food?  I mean really?  How hard is it to send a text back?  An email?  An effing smoke signal.  No.  Yes.  Be there!  Bells on!  Something that indicates to me in some sort of communicable language that you are interested in this event or that you would rather be swimming in a bathtub filled with piranhas.  I get it.

Secondly it is the whole issue of food and drink.  I love me a party, but my checkbook don't love it so much.  Parties are expensive.  No matter how amazing your friends are (and my friends are some of the most amazing) the hostest does take on an added charge because of that fear of running out of cheese dip or hearing the dreaded "are we out of wine?" only an hour into the party **cringe**.  I take this risk of danger to a whole new level though (hence the obsessive addiction) and I often spend boatloads of money on every possible item that could be, might be, or should be needed at any given event.  A casual night around the fire-pit turns into a few hundred dollar expenditure because wine-gods forbid what if we run out of pitted olives faster then non-pitted olives?  Martha Stewart would not be proud! 

Third it is the clean up pre, during, and post that is an undertaking.  Again if you have those folks that show up-destroy your humble abode-and then bounce the second someone mentions that the dishes are piling up this can be a huge issue.  Once again my friends are every party planners hope and dream and I am often offered with help to set up, clean up, and my trash is never full.  However it is still that material toll that your house undergoes every time you host a party.  Glasses get broken, food you didn't intend to serve gets eaten, bottles of wine you were saving for a "special occasion" are opened with gusto after one too many glasses of wine consumed by the hostess....ohhh the burn!  Stuff happens! 

However despite all of these hurdles and costly items that come with event planning like an addict I can not let go.  I can not NOT think of planning something every time someone mentions some sort of minuscule turn of events that naturally (right?) should be turned into a party.  "Everyone to my house!" is not something that I can keep out of my vocabulary, it just aint happening.  So now as we enter into my favorite time of year when on top of all of the calendared events that crowd the next 3 months I am sure I will plan a few "days that end in y" parties despite any issues my checkbook has with it, my calendar has with it, or my sanity has with it.  I am a lady who loves a party!  So keep your eyes peeled for my next text message, facebook invite, or keep your eyes to the sky for a smoke signal cause its coming!!  And I better get a response........juuuust sayin ;)

Age aint nuthin but a number.....right?

So not to beat a dead horse, but I am getting older.  I know there are those out there reading this that are older then I am and rolling their eyes at the simple suggestion that I would consider myself old, so let me be clear, I am not saying I am old I am saying I am getting older.  Now that statement is a big huge "no-duh" to most people as every year we have a birthday that symbolizes this great event of us being on year older...ya I get that...however I have only recently started to experience actual moments of "feeling older". 

Example #1: My bedtime rituals.
The other night as I was crawling into bed I started laughing at how my bed time ritual has gone from 5 minutes max to now close to 30 minutes.  I remember the days when I would come home from a rough night of drinking-- probably room temperature Popov and most likely straight out of the bottle (ahhhh college years)--I would stumble into my bed and pass out often times with one shoe still on, some sort of midnight snack held tight in my fist, and possibly have my purse with me...maybe not.  Now, with my highly inebriated days much less in number then when I was 21, I find that the process from thinking about getting into bed to actually getting into bed has multiplied exponentially.  Now I use 3 different types of lotions (face, body, and feet...yes feet...) when I use to just slather myself in cheap Suave lotion from head to toe.  I take a bevy of vitamins for a whole multitude of things I want to prevent or make better.  I take birth control pills, I floss nightly (did I even know floss existed in college?) I have overnight product for my hair, etc. etc.  I mean really I keep CVS in business with all of the crap I use just to go to bed!!  When did this happen?  When did I stop using the cheapest products...and about 2 of them....to "only the best" and about 20 of them.  I have chap stick next to my bed because GAWD FORBID I wake up in the middle of the night with chapped lips!!  I have eye drops, lavender lotion for when I find it hard to sleep (even after an over the counter sleeping pill).  REALLY?  I am going to be adding Bengay and adult diapers to my routine faster then you can slap a tick!!  I thought about taking some of the products and rituals out of my nightly routine...but then again WOULD I do with chapped lips?  I mean I shudder at the thought.

Example #2: That lovely yearly check up.
Let's face it there is no way in hell that our lady yearly check-up could ever, and I mean ever, be made to be remotely enjoyable.  I have given it much thought.  What if they gave you a foot massage during, what if they served you wine before, during, and after, what if they ACTUALLY WARMED UP THE METAL DUCK TOOL OF TERROR?!?!  I have come to the conclusion that no, none of these items would make this appointment any more enjoyable.  So as ladies we have to suffer yearly this horrible humiliating torture that is in no way shape or form fun.  Well this past appointment was all kinds of fun for me and I ONCE AGAIN (I am yelling a lot on this post....I hate this appointment so much) get "offered" the male nursing student who would like to watch and learn.  Ummmmm.  No.  I am not game for that.  The one time (again I get this every time) I saw this "student" he was eagerly sitting by my exam room as I approached and he looked my age.  I wanted to ask him: so after this whole thing, if I see you downtown at a club are you going to buy me a drink?  Cause usually it takes a few margaritas to get to see what you are about to...juuust sayin.  So after I said no to this young man, who I am sure will make a fine doctor some day after studying someone else's hoo-ha, my doctor took me in and in the middle of my normal "how is your health? are you on any kind of medication?" battery of questions she asked me if I have considered "permanent birth control".  As horrible visions of Nazi sterilization experiments flashed through my head I squeaked out "what do you mean permanent birth control?"..............now came the humdinger of a response...........she looked at me and said "well women your age have typically had their children by now or they are in a place in their life where they are thinking of having children in the very near future".  All right lady, already I am sitting cold and naked in an exam room with nothing but a napkin wrapped around me as thin as effing prosciutto and while I might not be in a serious relationship (or any relationship for that matter) this is not the flipping 1600's when my value as a woman was measured by how many sons I had by age 12!!  Times have changed!  Now-a-days we have computers that fit in your pocket and cars that park themselves!!  I will just take birth control pills thank you very much" she went on kicking and said "well the good news is if everything in your tests come back normal you wont have to be back for 2 years?!  What?  That is amazing!!  I had the ridiculous inkling to ask why...because I am an idiot...and she said "women of your age only need to come every 2 years"  THERE SHE GOES AGAIN WITH THE WOMEN OF MY AGE!!!  I gritted my teeth and I said: "Oh goody" and then got to enjoy the rest of my appointment with no foot rub, no wine, and a freezing dead cold metal duck tool.  Joy oh joy.  Can't wait till my next appointment in 2 years.  I will have to be careful, I will be almost 32 at that point and they might try to sell me off to a glue farm when I am not looking...sneaky bastards.

Fairy tails can come true...they can happen to you...if your young at heart!

I am so excited I just can't hide it!  I am bouncing off the walls in my prison cell of an office, feet tapping on the desk, shaking my arms in the air because (drum roll please) I AM GOING TO DISNEYLAND.  Now anyone that knows me knows that I go to Disneyland every year for my birthday and I will continue this until I have no more birthdays to celebrate.  I love it there.  However this trip is an extra special trip...this trip I am not only going to Disneyland with my most bestest friend in the whole wide world, but we have reservations for lunch at Club 33.  If you don't know what Club 33 is, take a second and google it and bask in the majesty of its exclusivity...go ahead....I will wait here..............

 OK!  So now that you know how AMAZING this opportunity is you can be appropriately jealous.  Yay!!  For as long as I have known about this exclusive club I have wanted to enjoy a meal there.  I mean yes I would love to join and be a member some day but the thousands of dollars a year in dues is juuuust out of my price range at the moment...14 years wait list or not.  I have always wanted to hunt someone out and see if I could swindle my way into getting a reservation from them.   Well my swindling days are over (at least for this adventure)!!  I have found an in!!  With this "in" we get into the Disneyland park for free...both parks...and we get to enjoy our 5 star lunch above the busy bustling streets of Disneyland's New Orleans Square.  We will be able to do what no one else in the park can do...sip adult beverages while we dine!!!  Ahhhhhh!!  It sounds kind of silly to pay this much for a meal (averages about $100 dollars a plate) just to sip on a beverage that will most likely cost about 3 times as much as they normally do, but to fully appreciate your overpriced experience you have to love Disney like we do.  The entire restaurant is filled with rare Disney memorabilia, and it is a place that Disney designed himself to be a sort of get away from the hustle and bustle of the park for super VIPs.  So in a little more then 22 hours my bestest friend Amanda and I will be one of those super VIPs and enjoy another one of the wonders that Disney has to offer!  We will take the park by storm like kids in a candy shop.  Stopping only to click our heels in the ecstatic joy of being at a place where your age flies out the window and you can feel comfortable acting like a kid again.

The game of life

When you are younger you are asked quite often what you want to be when you grow up, a firefighter, a ballerina, a movie star?  Games like M.A.S.H and Life are built around the idea that when you grow up you have certain things, a job, a spouse, children, and if you were like me if you didn't end up living in a mansion with your car filled with children then you just started the game over.  Hidden behind those innocent childhood games are strong messages to get a career, marry, and have children and then you will be happy and you will officially be "grown-up".  As I rocket toward my 30th birthday I look around and I realize I have none of those things.  Yes I am technically employed, but one thing that I missed on career day was that a) its a lot harder to become a movie star then I believed, and b) having a job and having a career are two separate kettle of fish.  I am not married.  Not only am I not married but I am closer to becoming the next Pope then I am to walking down the isle in a white dress.  I don't have any children, and while I think of my cats as my children, I don't have the "Sunday walks in the park pushing a baby buggy" type of children.  In my mid twenties I had a sort of mid-twenties-crisis over these 3 facts.  I fully expected to be 25, married, children, house with a white picket fence, etc.  That is what a 16 year old girl always dreams of, to have the full package, and we are taught that without these said items we weren't part of an elusive club of "normal" grown ups.  I admit that I have made some horrible relationship and life choices because of this pressure to marry and have children.  Hell there was a time when I would have married anything (and I did) with a pulse to fill that mold that I had been dreaming of since adolescence.  So many painful and expensive mistakes just to force myself and my life to be something that I now realize is nothing I want.  I mean sure I would love to meet someone some day that I could see myself spending some years with, and who knows if I ever meet someone that displays any kind of responsibility to someone other then themselves sure I might want to multiply with that person, who knows.  The bottom line is I don't have to.  I don't have to get married, I don't have to have children, and I don't have to be a movie star or an astronaut in order to be "successful".  As I have mentioned before turning 30 was a scary (and is still sort of scary) idea for me.  A lot of that I think had to do with a feeling of leaving my 20's unfulfilled, unaccomplished, with little more under my belt then "I survived my 20's and all I got was this lousy shirt".  Thinking about it though, I think I have accomplished a lot more by refusing to succumb to the life standards put before me during my Jr. High and High School years.  I did not marry the first man in my sights and start procreating like a rabbit on steroids in a desperate attempt to build the perfect dream life.  I made it through the gauntlet of my 20s...well 68 days...again who's counting ;) and I made it through college, kept myself employed and in good tax paying standing with the government (gold star much?....ahem) I have a great home and 2 cats that drive me insane but who I can't imagine having to live without, I have a sister and brother and a close knit group of friends that I wouldn't trade all of the tea in China for.  If I was playing a game of Life I would be losing....but I am playing my game of life...and clearly I appear to be winning.

If I knew I was going to be jumping so many hurdles I would have worn better shoes!

Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeesh have the last few days been intense.  I quite literally feel exhausted from all of the hurdles I am jumping and fires I am putting out!  To make matters worse if one more person says "what doesn't kill you always makes you stronger" I might just strangle them with my imaginary fire-hose!!!  Not every obstacle has been impossible to overcome and in fact some of them have forced me to go in a direction I wouldn't have normally taken, which has pleasantly enough ultimately been to my benefit.  I am no athlete, in real or imaginary life, so all of this running around and jumping through hoops has driven me to the point where I am two shakes of a lambs tail away from living the rest of my days in a padded cell wrapped up tight.  All of the huge things are pushing me so far to the brink of mental break down I almost screamed at a little old lady today at Subway because she couldn't see any salt coming out of the salt shaker and asked the man 3 times for more salt (despite it clearly dumping all over the sandwich each time).  While that little old lady has every right to take 30 minutes to instruct the poor folks at Subway how to make her perfect sandwich it was the last straw in my haystack of crap for the day!  I had to audibly tell myself to take a chill pill and after a few "wooo-saaaws" my vision went from bright red to a "less red" color.  I don't know if it is the sun, the moon, the stars, or good ol fashioned PMS but oh lordy it will be a Christmas Day miracle if I get through the next few days without shutting down half of Santa Barbara as I run through the streets screaming with my arms waving over my head ripping my hair out.  Not the way I intended to become famous, but if the universe pushes me I am liable to push right back!!

Deeeeeep breath.....tomorrow is another day right? ;)

Christmas in July? Ummm I mean August!?

Everyone who knows me knows that my favorite time of year is the fall/winter.  In Santa Barbara we really don't have seasons, our perfect 75 degree weather drops down to a chilly 60 degrees and everyone thinks the Ice Age is coming back.  However as the scraps from Thanksgiving dinner are being cleared off the table you can hear Christmas music ringing through the streets like out of A Christmas Story.  For a few short months the sunblock and beach smell of Santa Barbara is covered up with the sent of pine trees and cinnamon, and although we have to get our Christmas smell from overly priced Yankey Candles and not the real deal itself (palm trees don't really have a smell I have discovered...) we do it with boundless exuberance!  Every year I get playfully teased by friends and family for how early I start thinking about Christmas (121 days...and counting) but being that it is my favorite holiday they can all tease away and we shall see who makes my Christmas Card list!!  HA!  I was browsing Christmas cards and party invitations the other day, while listening to a Pandora Christmas station :)  and I got so excited for this upcoming season!  Granted there are still a few important holidays to come before Christmas....my 30th birthday is creeping closer and closer even as I type...I am still giddy like a child...well like a child on Christmas morning...for the excitement that comes along with Christmas!  The movies on TV, the wrapping paper, purchasing all of those fun little gifts that are sure to bring a smile to those you give them to!  AAAAHHHHH Christmas you can't come fast enough!

I love the smell of bleach in the morning...it smells like victory!

I think the best way for me to think through things, to sort out choices and to make decisions is to deep clean.  I am often teased about my OCD way of cleaning and organizing (which I have learned to embrace and take pride in) and so last night when my brother asked for some help cleaning and organizing his apartment I was all too eager to jump at the task.  His apartment is a typical man's cave and other then the gargoyle like tiger's head that serves as a beer bottle opener (a must have in bachelor pads I am told) there was nothing hanging on the walls.  Like a whirling dervish I attacked the house with hammers and nails and bleach.  After about 3 hours it started to look like a home, granted it was a boys home and where paintings of wine bottles hang in my house a metal Jack Daniels decal hangs in his, but that is neither here nor there.  It looks great.  We had a great time laughing and joking while we cleaned and I could see a sense of pride on his face as we hung up the last item and stepped back to admire his ability to hang it completely straight the first time without a level...I lack that ability...severely.  When I hang a picture I need about 5 different tools to make it placed right and level and even then I usually am hiding a graveyard of holes behind each photo I put up....shhhhh.  I thought on my drive home how much it made me happy to assist him in his effort to make his house more comfortable, more lived in.  Despite being sweaty and dirty and smelling like bleach and god only knows what else I was happy.  Happy to help and happy to be asked for help :)  Sometimes all you need is a good night of deep cleaning to set things right in the world...oh and wine...you must have wine, and I had wine :)

what's in a name?

When I was first thinking of creating a blog I knew it needed a name.  I wanted it to be clever but I also wanted it to convey my mission.  At the time I didn't have a mission other then the huge umbrella topic of: changing my life.  Well that could mean a million different things, you can lose 20 pounds and change your life, become a vegetarian, become a devout Christian, learn a new language, and all of these things would most likely inspire a different title to a blog.  So what encompassed all things that I could take on to improve my life?  Hmmmmm.  My sister thought I should make cooking the focus of my blog, and while I have a passion for cooking I didn't want to be super stalker status with the Julie and Julia project...more like a mild admirer from a distance :)  As we brainstormed titles for this blog I was thinking of what interested me...cooking and cats.  So I thought "The Cooking Cat Lady"...and with a shudder I realized that the title sounded like I cooked cats and thus it was not an option.  I was really at a loss and the longer I went without a name the longer this blog didn't exist.  Then one day as I am sitting at my desk at work in my dungeon of despair I thought: what is it really that I was wanting to do?  Yes I want to get out of this job, yes I want to make more money, yes I want to be able to answer with pride the question of "what do you do for a living?" but really WHAT is it that I am looking for? I decided: I am looking for peace.  I am looking for happiness.  I am looking for a sense of fulfilment.  I looked back on my life and I realized I had that when I was a dancer.  When my life was filled with smelly pointe shoes, endless dance classes, and going to bed each night with sore muscles and blistered feet.  Oh those were the days!  I wanted to get back there, and I wanted to get back there fast! 

I sat in my portal to hell (my desk) and I drifted off into a day dream of my dancing years.  I remembered parts I have danced that I loved, ones that I hated, costumes that fit and some that did not, waking up with my head full of curlers when I was little for my first ballet performance as a little party attendant in the Nutcracker.  Oh the amazing years I spent being a ballerina.  All of the wonderful teachers I have had with their patience and their wisdom.  Some of the bad teachers I have had with their spite and their inexperience.  One teacher specifically resonates as someone who changed who I was as a person as well as who I became as a dancer.  Her name is Valerie Houston.  I remember the first class I ever took from her.  She had a passion and an energy for dancing that I had never seen.  Her classes left you an inch from death but desperately wanting more.  She humbled me with critique and inspired me with progress.  I always liked ballet, but Valerie taught me to love dance.  A few years after my first class with her I was her student at UCSB studying for a major in dance.  Valerie called me "Hatfield" and soon everyone in the dance department called me "Hatfield".  That is the moment I was happiest, in dance, in life, in everything.  That is where I want to be again. I realize I am little older, a little worse for wear, but hopefully a little wiser as well. That is my project, to be "Hatfield" again.  Hence the Hatfield Project:  A project in self rediscovery and a mission to find eternal bliss :)

A dream is a wish your heart makes...

When is the last time you woke up from a really wonderful dream?  I honestly can not remember the last time I have dreamt something so magical that I woke up with a smile on my face...especially on a Monday.  However, this morning, I woke up from the most spectacular dream.  I was dreaming about my upcoming 30th birthday which is in 90 days, 16 hours, 11 minutes and 17...16...15 seconds (not that anyone is counting).  I have been dreading this birthday since driving home from Disneyland on my 29th birthday.  I started a countdown that next Monday...363 days...and now I am down to 90.  Normally I love birthdays and I am determined to not be that woman that pretends she is 45 when she is really 50 or who whines at every upcoming birthday like I would whine about needing a root canal, and yet this birthday is making me a little uneasy.  My 10 year high school reunion came and went this past year and although the event planners couldn't get an event together that enticed enough people (20 people bought tickets...yikes...) I have to say I am glad nothing happened.  Other then surviving these last 10 years since graduating high school I have really done nothing that I would be happy to announce.  No children, no marriage, no amazing job, nothing that would make my eyes sparkle when asked the expected question of: what have you been up to since high school?  When I was graduating I would have sworn that by this time I would be married, have a few children to bus around, and I was sure as hell under the impression that I would be doing something other then the job I have now.  Anything other then the job I have now.  In the past few years I will admit the occasional (ok so not so occasional and more like once a week) gut-wrenching moments of feeling my uterus dry up whilst my face becomes wrinkled and "crypt-keeper-like" before my very eyes.  It seems every day another friend gets married, has a child, lands and amazing job, buys a house, does SOMETHING that signifies that they are grown-up.  Then I look at my life and the biggest thing I have done recently is learn how to make salsa, which while delicious is in no way a step in the grown-up direction. 

I have had days filled with pure dread and disappointment with what I have turned my life into, or not turned my life in to.  Was I asleep on career day at school?  Should I have been nicer to boyfriend #4 and maybe I would be married by now?  Should I have maybe studied something smart rather then something that I loved in college?  Will I die an old maid with a house full of cats and Disney trinkets because I failed to make something of myself?  Some days are really bad, like don't want to get out of bed bad, and other days something simple like my miniature garden producing yummy herbs will make me smile and realize that everything is going to be alright (thank you Bob Marley). 

Despite all of this "I hate my life and its direction" feeling (and by no means to I hate my life as much as I wish it was a tad more sparkly) this dream I had last night was joyous and fun and I was surprised at how "at-ease" I was while staring at the beastly event of turning 30.  I was surrounded by my friends and family, I was dancing in a rather puffy party dress, and there was glitter...lots of glitter.  I woke up and thought, even though I am not a Mrs. ______ (insert name here), I don't have a few rug-rats to scream "MOM" when they need another juice box, and I don't answer my work phone "Mrs. So-and-So, President of Disney how can I help you?" I am doing ok.  I have an amazing group of kick-ass friends, I have a brother and sister that I love and adore more then anything (even Disney....GASP) and 2 cats that in the midst of driving me coo-coo clock crazy fill my life with love :) 

I have been rocketing toward my 30th birthday at an alarming speed and it has often felt like I am on a run-away roller coaster (I hate roller coasters) that goes up and down and has loopdy-loops and spirals that cause my stomach to become lodged in my throat. I have been either white-knuckling it or hiding my eyes in fear while screaming at the top of my lungs "MAKE IT STOP".  Try as I might to slow this puppy down and get off that just ain't possible, so after last night and with this new adventure to explore rather then scream and cry I am going to throw my hands up, give out a Xena Warrior Princess yell of "wahooooooooooooooooooo" and enjoy the ride.  30....here I come, ready or not.

Small steps in the right direction :)

Day three--and day two...I didn't blog yesterday the Internet at work was down...sorry Julie :)--are much like day three and two of a work out program.  Day one you are jazzed, you have your new work out gear on, Janet Jackson is blaring in your ears "Control", and as you are sweating bullets on the treadmill you realize "this isn't really that hard! Why didn't I start this sooner?!  I will be a size 4 in no time!!"  Day 2 you are a little tired, but still psyched at the prospect of shedding pounds and being able to soon frolic on the beach in your smallest of bikinis like something straight out of a Victoria's Secret swimsuit catalog.  Day three is a whole different kettle of fish.  Day three you wake up and you can hardly move.  The simple task of squatting to sit on the toilet forces involuntary audible groans that you didn't even know were possible to make.  The idea of walking to the fridge for ice to numb your throbbing muscles is out of the question let alone getting back on a treadmill.  Eff that noise.  So most often you end up succumbing to the comfort of your couch, some sea salt and vinegar chips, and a Law and Order SVU marathon cause if Stabler doesn't make you feel better then nothing will!  Day three of my adventure toward career bliss is much like that.  The glorious optimism of Tuesday while not gone, has been muddied a little by the reality of what to do next.  Ahhh that next step.  It is easy to sit in my office chair and dream of doing something other then sitting in this pit of hell, yet it is entirely different to actually DO something.  However, now that I have declared this quest begun...begin I shall. 

I spent yesterday, before the great Internet crash of 2:30pm, searching online for classes to become a certified Pilates instructor.  Let me back up a bit...the idea of becoming a Pilates instructor started with my love for dance, more specifically, my love for ballet.  I spent the first half of my life in ballet classes surrounded by music, dance, and all of the loveliness that comes with ballerinas.  To say I was obsessed with dancing is like saying that Frank Sinatra was a good singer...HUGE understatement.  If one was to look back at me 10 years ago they would have sworn that by this time I would have done something with my life that would ensure that every breathing moment of every day I would be surrounded by dance.  However several events in my life pushed me off that track and instead I got on the train to a life that has as much to do with dance as it does building rocket ships.  I had lost my way.  So when I was thinking about this project and where I wanted to end up in a year I immediately thought of dance.  I have been a ballerina, I have been a ballet teacher, and while one day I would love to get back into both of those things something that is connected to both of those careers is Pilates.  A skilled dancer without Pilates is like cake without frosting...you can have cake without frosting but why when the frosting makes it so much better?  So I set my sights on becoming a certified Pilates instructor in hopes that it will not only give me a create avenue to fulfill my craving for a better life but also bring me closer to dance again. 

As I stared wide-eyed at the Google homepage I typed in my first search: Certified Pilates Instructor and I felt a zing of excitement.  I am really going to do this!  I am really going to change my life!  That excitement came to a screeching halt when I found the perfect school and course all for the perfect price of $4,000 dollars.  Now 4,000 bones doesn't sound so bad especially when compared to the $35,000 dollars I owe the government for my stellar Sociology degree...however I don't happen to have $4,000 dollars keeping itself warm in my bank account at the moment.  Shocking I know.  So while that was a little saddening I kept my chin up (nod to Amanda) and I instead searched for a smaller class with a smaller price tag.  The dreary clouds of defeat parted and the sun shown through as if sent by the ballerina gods straight to me.  A short 5 day dancer specific course in January in LA for the fancy price of 1,000 dollars!!!  While that is not exactly peanuts that is much more plausible then $4,000 dollars and it is a step in the right direction!!  So I have until January to save up $1,000 dollars to attend this course. Baby steps, but hey its a start. 

Tally-ho!

Day One...oh dear God...

I was never a girl to write a diary or to keep a journal, this can be blamed on adolescent paranoia that my super secret feelings for that certain boy in Jr. High would some day be read for all to hear over the loud speaker during home-room, or just pure laziness--who had TIME to recap the entire day in a miniature little book with a lock that could be broken with an abrupt sneeze?  Nope, I was not that girl.  However after seeing the movie Julie and Julia a light bulb flashed in my head...a light bulb the size of a watermelon.  We all have that movie that "speaks to us" for some women it is Eat, Pray, Love or Under the Tuscan Sun, and for some men it is Fight Club or Scarface (**sigh**), regardless of the reason, that movie embodies where we are in our lives at that moment; puts it into motion picture form with highly attractive celebs fulfilling our inner most hopes and dreams.  For me, that movie (and later the book) is Julie and Julia. 

I am a moderate cook at best, and while Julia Child and then Julie Powell mastered French Cooking, I am what Julia would have referred to as "not a real cook" because I love Italian cooking.  Throw everything into a pot with some choice ingredients and PRESTO CHANGO it is a meal.  So while the French cooking--with all of its complexity--didn't really speak to me, Julie Powell's quest for self discovery screamed at me.  In the last 5 years I have spent a majority of my life at a dead-end office job where the day to day events (or lack there of) would drive most normal people to the brink of pure insanity.  I have been saying for years I need a new job, I need a job that makes me not hate my life from 7:59am to 5:01pm.  However with the stellar condition of the economy for the last few years finding a job no matter how fiercely I search...has proven fruitless thus far.  So after watching Julie and Julia for the billionth time I started reading the book, hoping, wishing, in fact praying that I would get some sort of subconscious inspiration from it.  Well I did. 

The other day while in the midst of balancing my checkbook (well not really--but going over my finances) for the next few month and seeing a very bleak horizon I did the unthinkable.  I called my college loan peeps and asked to put off my loan payments for a while.  (**interest still accrues--HUGE CRINGE**) however a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do right?  The lady asked me how long I wanted to put off my loan payments.  When "forever and a day" wasn't an option I went with one-year.  After I thanked her a million times for temporarily saving me financially I got off the phone and as if the phone click was the "dong" of the bell it hit me at once.  Julie Powell gave herself a year to do something to change her current situation.  I just got one year.  One year to do SOMETHING to change my current state of affairs.  One year to get out of this god-for-saken job and into a career that makes me happy and if I craft it correctly will make me enough money to get out from under this college debt from hell.  I have a few ideas hatching around in my head for what that career might turn out to be, but for now I am going to bestow Julie Powell the best kind of flattery and "copy" her idea of blogging about it...each day (I hope)...so that I can keep on myself to keep pressing on and in one-year hopefully look back at my current situation and laugh a good laugh.

So here I go.....
:)