Category Archives: Lessons

This weekend…

….you should do whatever makes you happy.

No work. No school. No responsibilities.

Just crack open a beer, relax and enjoy your life.

Or come over to my place. I’ll give you beer and cookies. Whatever kind you want!

You deserve it. Why? Because you’re awesome. Anybody who disagrees will have to answer to my fist. In their face.

Love you friends 🙂

P.S. Happy Easter!

The cuteness is killing me.

(Picture courtesy of an Ellen Degeneres tweet 🙂 )

It’s impossible to hate IKEA even if you try

I have never really needed anything from IKEA before. And until one was built 10 minutes from my house, I had never set foot in the store. Prior to this weekend, I had been a whole three times and had walked out with nothing more than tupperware or a coffee mug.

But all that has changed. Oh, how it has changed!

Friends, your little blogger is growing up. I got my first “this is why I went to college” job last week and I start next week!

The job requires a move from Austin to San Antonio. Which requires a new apartment. Which requires furniture, of which I have none.

Hello IKEA!

I really only needed a few things (famous last words?) because we don’t want to have to rent a u-haul. My bed frame fits in my mom’s car and I’m not buying a mattress until I get to SA. I can’t afford a couch and TV right now so those were going to have to wait anyway, BUT I figured I might as well get a coffee table, dresser, etc while I was still in Austin.

The beauty of IKEA is that all the furniture comes in boxes so it will fit in my little bitty car. Love that. Not sure how much I’ll love it when I have to put together all my new stuff, but for now I’m giving thanks to the IKEA Gods.

Ideally I would have liked to go during the week because IKEA is super stressful on the weekends. What with all the people, carts and screaming children. Alas, we went on a Sunday because my dad works all the time and we needed him to lift the heavy stuff.

We decided to leave at 11. So we left at 12:30. Typical.

We stopped at the liquor store right across the street first because my mom decided she wanted to start drinking martinis. Also typical.

Got to the door before realizing it was Sunday and the liquor store was closed. SO TYPICAL.

All of that had nothing to do with my IKEA experience, I just wanted to make sure you guys know how ridiculous my family is.

Back to the furniture. I’m sure all of you have been to IKEA at least once, but if not just picture a huge warehouse with a bunch of kitchens, beds, sofas, chairs, tables and whisks. Now imagine a million people walking around in those kitches, laying in those beds, sitting those sofas and chairs, looking under the tables and grabbing eight whisks because they’re only a dollar and “you can never have too many whisks”

That’s in quotation marks because I actually heard somebody say that as they dumped a bunch of whisks in their cart.

Oh and add about 500 screaming kids. That’s IKEA. On a Sunday.

We walked through the whole store because it seemed like the polite thing to do. Even though I don’t need a new kitchen (even though some of them look amazing) and an actual couch won’t fit in our car (or my budget). Going to IKEA and not looking at everything is like going to Disney World and not seeing Mickey Mouse. You just don’t leave Disney World without at least waving to the guy!

But it’s really the last few rooms that capture my heart. Candles for $1.99! Plates for $.59! 18-piece tupperware for $3.99! Apple slicers for $2.00!

Who cares if I never slice apples?! It’s $2.00!

This was when our cart got filled up. And this was when my dad kept trying to get my mom and I to go towards the check-out area and not back to the candles. Did I mention how cheap the candles were?

I’ve always been lucky in that my former roomies have always been smart enough to remember the little things an apartment needs. Like a utensil holder thingy. Or a paper towel holder. Or a rug. Whatever it was, they already had it before it every occurred to me that we would need it.

But now I’m on my own, and my paper towels aren’t going to hold themselves.

So thank you IKEA, for providing me with the things I didn’t even know I needed. Because of you I might start slicing my apples and whisking things that probably don’t need to be whisked.

Although I should probably work on putting together that coffee table. And the side table, two lamps and dresser I bought too.

This might not end well.

P.S. On our way back home we stopped at another liquor store because my dad was hoping to find the one place that would miraculously be open on a Sunday. I swear we don’t have a problem.

Things Baristas won’t tell you? Actually, we tried but you refuse to listen.

As many of you know, I’ve been working at the cafe inside Barnes and Noble for a couple of months and before that I worked at Starbucks for a few years. I know the life of a barista, and even though I adore Starbucks (and other coffee shops) working there can be rough.

When I ran across this article I knew I just had to share. And by “share” I obviously mean “complain about my experiences.”

13 Things Baristas Won’t Tell You (Read this for the original article. I just pulled the main points for this post and added my own commentary. Of course. )

1. Drinking two quad-shot, 22oz, vanilla lattes every day is bad for you. So is the pumpkin loaf you have for breakfast every morning. Just saying.

2. Sometimes the owners of independent coffee/espresso carts buy cheap coffee and sell it as a respected brand. I know nothing of this, but it’s not surprising.

3. Please believe me. Listen, I get that you think I’m dumb just because I work in a coffee shop. I mean, how are you to know that I am going to college/just graduated? And you! Well you wear a suit, so I can only assume that you have a “real” job and are very smart and know everything and basically trump me in every way possible. So I suppose it makes sense that you would repeat the word “nonfat” eight times while placing your order (hey, those suits gotta fit, right?). And I mean you might as well repeat it again while I’m making the drink, juuuuust in case I decided to pour whole milk because I get the letter “N” confused with “W”. And fine, watch my hands carefully and yell if you think I brushed up against the whip cream because you DO NOT want whip. Of course, I know you don’t want whip because the cup tells me you don’t want whip, but it’s alright if you want to tell me again. HOWEVER, when I look you in the eye and say “here is your grande, nonfat, no whip, mocha” the last thing you should even think of asking me is “is it nonfat?” Seriously, believe me.

4. If you’re not at Starbucks, don’t order like you are. The main reason for this being that Starbucks likes to make up words. A caramel frappuccino did not exist before Howard Schultz allowed it to exist. See also: Vivanno, misto and marble mocha macchiatto.

5. You are the reason for the wait. Yes, you with the cell phone who had 10 minutes to decide what you wanted but were too busy telling your BFF about your new man (who is so sweet) to look at the menu. You and your “do I want a frappuccino or a white mocha?” are the reason for the wait. Oh, you really wanted a vanilla latte? I thought so.

6. Be nice. Not just to us. To everybody. Just be nice all the time. If you never go to coffee shops but happen to be reading this anyway, please take note of this one. I’m tired of rude people. I’m tired of annoying people. I’m tired of people who think they’re better than others. The only people I’m not tired of are the genuinely nice people. The ones who I know are nice to everybody they meet, not just me. Incidentally, these are the people who get free drinks.

7. Just because they’re vegan doesn’t mean our cakes are good for you. Sorry.

8. Yes, I went to school for this. I wouldn’t really call it “school”, but I do know what I’m talking about. And if I don’t, I will still help you to the best of my ability. I promise.

9. There is an art to pulling a perfect shot of espresso. And it takes more than half a second. So stop with the foot tapping already!

10. Tip. It’s nice. I won’t be mad if you don’t, but it’s nice.

11. A bigger cup doesn’t mean more coffee espresso. Hold on to your hats kids, this ones a doozy. A bigger cup really just means more syrup, milk and whip cream. And money. So when you come in all sad and tired because your life is SO hard and the only thing getting you through is the idea of a mocha don’t laugh and say “obviously I need a venti” when I ask you what size you want. Grandes and ventis have the exact same amount of espresso in them. So jokes on you because you could have saved yourself a few cents (and calories) had you gotten the smaller size. Another thing: if you’re really THAT tired you should just order a brewed coffee. It has more caffeine and makes you less annoying to us.

12. Latte art isn’t merely decorative. I know nothing of this. I can barely get all the milk in the cup….I’m far from latte art.

13. A real macchiato has just a stain of milk foam and no sugar. Weird, right? If caramel macchiatos are your drink, try to stay away from the cafes in Italy. They don’t have what you’re looking for.

 


Can’t find a job, Can’t find a date

Has anyone noticed that the process of finding a job is eerily similar to that of finding a date?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

(Source)

Let’s do a little comparison action, shall we?

Career: You (read: I) know what you (I)  want. An entry-level position with a public relations/advertising agency. I’ve interned with agencies before so I know I’m a good fit and I thouroughly enjoyed all the work I did with them.

Date: You (okay fine, I) am 100 percent sure I want a tall man. My collection of heels just won’t have it any other way. Okay, I’m kidding (sort of). But, like most people, I have that “list” of traits that I know I want in a date/boyfriend. Please don’t act like you’ve never made a list of traits you want in others. Seriously, get off your high horse. You’ve done it. We all have. It’s human.

Career: When I find a job opening that sounds perfect for me, I obsessively work on my resume to make sure it will stand out from the sea of resumes they receive daily. I may not be a Harvard grad, but I was editor-in-chief of my university newspaper for three semesters, held a full-time job for a lot of my time in college and interned with two PR agencies. Impressive, no?

Date: When I meet a guy who seems like a good fit for me, I (sadly) obsessively analyze everything I do/say to make sure I stand out from the sea of girls that I am SO sure are my competition. I may not be a Victoria’s Secret  model, but I’m nice, funny and can bake a mean batch of cookies. Impressive, no?

Career: I check my e-mail a million times a day. Nothing.

Date: Voicemail, text messages, Tweets, Facebook comments. All nothing.

Career: I try not to think about it. Someday some company will look at me and think “Hey, she’s perfect for us! Hired!” Until then, I can enjoy my post-grad life and do things I probably couldn’t do if I had a full-time job.

Date: I’m pretty sure someday some guy will look at me and thing “Eh, she’s cool. Date!” Until then, I can enjoy all the things I like to do by myself. Like eat an entire bag of gummy bears while forcing my dog to hang out with me.

Career: How soon can I follow-up after sending in my resume?

Date: How many texts is too many?

Career: When I least expect it (read: forgot that I even applied to the job) I hear back. Then I get overly excited and think I’m going to have a panic attack.

Date: When I least expect it (read: when I’ve decided that being the single old lady with 18 dogs won’t be so bad) I hear from man of the moment. Then I get overly excited and think I’m going to have a panic attack.

Career: First interview. Must look professional.

Date: First date. Must look cute.

Career: How much should I talk about myself? Do they need to know about my love for Justin Bieber? (Answer: No)

Date: How much should I talk about myself? Do they need to know about my love for Justin Bieber? (Answer: Not yet)

See what I mean? Exactly the same!

Anybody else facing the same problems as me? Any tips? Need a shoulder to cry on?

P.S. Some details exaggerated for humors sake. For example,  I don’t really suffer from panic attacks when men text me. I do, however, eat a lot of gummy bears.

P. P.S. Really, nobody wants to join my virtual book club? Laaaame.

I need my own driver

The first time I got my drivers license renewed I was 18 (duh) and almost missed a plane to New York.

My parents had been telling me for weeks before my birthday to go renew it and like the annoying teenage girl I was, I refused to listen. Apparently I was too busy planning my marriage to Andy Roddick to realize I needed to get my crap together and listen to them.

So my 18th birthday came and went and I was still driving around with an expired license. I’m a horrible example to children everywhere. Finally, the morning I was suppose to leave for New York City on a Yearbook/Newspaper trip I realized I would need that stupid license to get on the plane.

Damn.

So while my parents shook their heads at me I went super early in the morning to get it done. It was stupid and I had to haul ass to make it to the airport on time.

Don’t worry, I still made it to New York. My Yearbook advisor would have had my head if I hadn’t. The trip was fantastic.

Anyway, that was back in 2005. I wouldn’t need to renew again until 2011, which I was convinced was never going to happen. I don’t know if I thought we were all going to be flying instead of driving, or if I had a dream that the world would end. All I know is that I honestly never thought I’d have to renew my license again. The idea of 2011 was too far away for my high school brain to understand. Silly, I know.

Spoiler alert: 2011 happened. My birthday is tomorrow. I needed to renew my license today. Ugh.

I got up all early today, did my hair (!) and put makeup on. I didn’t want to look like this guy:

Source

Decided on my trusty ol’ Colossal today because I knew this picture would stay with me for a long time, and I didn’t want to suffer from mascara regret. Nobody should ever suffer from mascara regret.

Obviously, I got totally confused and forgot where the DMV was. Luckily Austin is full of turnarounds for idiots like me, so I made it there. Although it took me like 40 minutes when it should have taken only 15. Siiiiigh.

To make a long story short they wouldn’t let me renew my license because they needed my social security card (which I did not have with me) so I drove all the way home to get it (did not find it), then spent 30 minutes trying to figure out what else I could use. Too bad they wouldn’t take birth certificates and my passport expired in 1998. I’m totally aware of how this is all my fault. I can’t even be mad at the cranky DMV people. Boo.

So then I gave up, and renewed online. Because, you know, the computer can prove my SSN. I don’t understand the world we live in sometimes.

This also means that I will have my 18 year-old self on my license until I’m 30, when I will have to go renew in person.

Except 2017 is NEVER happening, so I really have nothing to worry about.

Weather complaints or Why we should all move to California

So in general, I’m pretty sure people like me. I mean, I’m a cool person and I was recently told that I might be too pleasant.

Sounds like a good thing, right? Well I was told this during a job interview. I still don’t know what to think of it.

Anywho, even though I might be cool and nice, I know there are times when people just want me to shut my cool and nice mouth. They probably want to punch my cool and nice face too, but so far they’ve refrained from that (and I thank them for that everyday that I don’t have to wear foundation to cover up a black eye).

So what is it that might annoy people to the point of punching, you ask?

Well that would be my love for cold weather, specifically snow. Along with that, my dislike of hot temps and the sun. I really don’t like the sun. Even when it’s smiling and wearing cool shades.

(Source)

Okay fine, I don’t hate the sun. I just don’t always appreciate it. I do hate that it brings 100 degree temps to my place of residence and makes me want to curl up in my freezer and cry. All the time. From April-October. Dramatic much?

So yes, I like colder weather. This could be because I was born in Ohio and lived there until I was 14 (by the way, snow days were a regular thing for me growing up. Jealous?) or because I look cuter in winter clothes. I can’t deny the truth, you guys. If you only see me once in your life, I can promise that you’d rather me be wearing boots and a sweater than shorts and a tank top. For your sake.

I also get crap for still liking Ohio sports teams. “Mansee you don’t live in Ohio anymore! You went to school in Texas! You’re not allowed to be a Buckeye fan!”

Um, yes I can. It’s not like I’m this HUGE football fan or anything, but if I am going to root for a team, it’s going to be the team that my family has the most ties too. And that would be Ohio State, so get off my back.

Also? Scarlet is cuter than burnt orange. Sorry I’m not sorry.

Back to the weather. So when it does get cold, I get excited and pull out my boots and scarves (and if I’m really lucky, gloves!) and bundle up to go outside for whatever reason. OR I pull on sweatpants over my leggings that I’m obviously already wearing and curl up in my Snuggie. And then I hear this:

“Ha, I thought you LIKED the cold weather? How are you going to survive in New York if you can’t handle this?”

The latter statement tends to come from my parents who never want me to leave their house. No joke. If they lived in New York, they would say no such thing.

Listen. Just because I like the cold weather, does not mean I’m immune to feeling it! I don’t want to wear a bikini (ew) and dance around in the snow. I mean, really? I’m quite aware that if I were to move to New York or Chicago or any other place that has real winters, I would need to wear a jacket. I get that. I’M NOT A POLAR BEAR FOR GOODNESS SAKE.

Do I question why everybody runs around half naked in the summer? No, I don’t.

It’s not like people who like hot weather never complain about the heat. When I worked at Starbucks and spent my summers blending frappuccinos I never got on my customer’s case for complaing that it was “hotter than hades out there!” No I just made thier extra caramel, double blended, extra whip caramel frappuccino and watched while they sucked down a future heart attack.

So yes, when it’s cold I wrap myself in two blankets and exclaim “wow it’s really cold outside” or I might refuse let my dog out because “I don’t think he can handle this cold”.

Lazy? Maybe. But I’m allowed to do it.

You know what else I am allowed to do? Laugh at the store I work at for closing down early because it MIGHT snow. Obviously this would be funnier if I didn’t end up staying 1.5 hours late so that another person wouldn’t have to come in for only 1.5 hours.

Yea, I worked a 10 hour shift and I still like cold weather. It’s a lifelong love and it’s never going away.

And before I get all the summer girls in a frenzy (ha, remember that song?) let me just say this: I don’t hate summer. I do enjoy warm weather–just not 1385030 days of it. There are some days that I actually wish I was a witch so that I would melt in the heat and be put out of my misery. Plus, I look good in black.

In a perfect world we wouldn’t have to deal with extreme weather. Ideally, we would all live  where it was in the 50’s or 60’s everyday. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect weather.

Oh wait, that’s just San Francisco. Seriously, what is this?

Maybe we all need to move to California?

I really don’t know where I’m going to live a year from now. I might still be in Texas, I might be in Wisconsin. I could be in New York or California! The beauty in this is not knowing where I might be.

No matter what though, I will always prefer boots to sandals and sweaters to tube tops. And we’re all allowed to complain about the weather, right? So how about I’ll let you complain about the snow today if you let me complain about the heat in July. Deal? Deal.

So excuse me while I go eat a bowl of soup because I’m not immune to the cold. Plus, I really really like soup.

Oh, and to anybody reading this who lives in the north. I’m sure you’re super tired of all the blizzards and would like to punch me in the face right now. It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I just bought new foundation and concealer anyway.

The Vegan Diaries: Now what?

Warning: The photos in this post are awful because I don’t have a camera and had to use my phone. And even though my phone is superfreakingawesome, it’s camera is not so superfreakingawesome. SO, please do not compare me to other bloggers who can take superfreakingawesome photos. (cough Jessica cough). Thank you.

I bet you’re wondering what my first non-vegan meal was. You’ve probably been waiting all day to find out!

Or you’ve read my past posts and have noticed that I’ve done nothing but talk about cheese for a week.

If it’s the latter, than you won’t be surprised that I woke up and made myself a grilled cheese sandwich this morning. And it was delicious.

With a side of blueberries, also known as "bloobs" by other blogs/in my head.

My mom insists I don’t get enough antioxidants, so she took it upon herself to buy two huge things of bloobs for me. I keep trying to tell her I eat enough dark chocolate a day to feed a small village (dark chocolate=antioxidants, duh) but she refuses to listen.

Also, that picture was taken in my parents bathroom. That’s how bad the lighting was in the rest of the house.

At work, I ate…nothing.

I had expected to find myself pining over our cookies and soups and cheesecakes, etc. But oddly enough, I didn’t really want any of that. Perhaps I’m growing up?

Oh, but I did eat a bag of cheetos. Guess I’m not growing up. Hmph.

When I got home (which was SUCH a drama because my car basically froze while I was working and my accelerator just did not want to go. I had to sit there for like 15 minutes to allow it to warm-up. What a baby.) I found that my mom had made soup!

Seafood soup to be exact. Ate it all, except for the okra because the slimy seeds remind me of my dog's drool. Truth.

Oh and my mom would like all of you to know that she made that soup from scratch, including the broth. As in she made homemade seafood broth. Impressive, no?

I also had more bread and cheese on the side. No complaints.

And fried stuff.

These pics are making all my food look gross, but I swear it was delicious.

I bet you’re wondering what Max was doing while I was eating, huh?

Surprisingly enough, this was the best picture I could get. Sigh.

He sat two feet away and stared at me. Just stared. The entire time I was eating/taking pictures of him with my phone.

And here’s a photo of a cute mug, just for fun!

Kind of trippy...

I ate dinner while watching today’s episode of Oprah. Ironically enough, Oprah and her staff went vegan for one week and the show was about how they dealt with it. But it was also about how animals are treated in this country and what “vegan-ish” diets can do for our bodies. By no means was it a “meat is bad!” type of episode, rather the main message was that we should all be aware of what we’re eating.

I took away a few things from the episdoe:

1. Trying a vegan diet really does make you aware of what foods you eat, and how dependent we can be on animal products.

2. However, with that said, I can firmly say that a vegan diet is not for me. Maybe it’s because I didn’t do it long enough for my body to fully adjust or because I ended up carbo-loading like I was running a marathon (seriously, I ate more bagels this month than I did all of 2010. Atkins, who?), but this way of life just isn’t for me.

3. My dog does look like a baby cow (otherwise known as a calf) which made me super sad when they were showing the slaughterhouses.

4. I LASTED LONGER THAN OPRAH AT BEING VEGAN.

5. I love cheese. I really, really love cheese. BUT I had no desire to eat any sort of meat today. Not even bacon. Weird. I know I will eventually eat it again (maybe not red meat?) but I didn’t crave it today (or all month for that matter) the way I thought I would.

So in conclusion, I’m happy with my decision. I loved the challenge of being vegan but I don’t care for the lifestyle.  However, I’m so glad I gave it a shot and would encourage others to do the same.

I’ll support you by baking vegan cookies whenever you want 🙂

Alright kids, it’s cold and I want to go snuggle with my baby cow dog:

Ahh look at his little squished up face!

Oh and one more thing! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for reading. Being able to write about this little challenge really helped me and provided a sense of motivation that I don’t think I would have had otherwise. Y’all rock–give yourself a pat on the back!