darts in women's clothing

ok, I know that clothing designers are not specifically designing clothes for my body. however, when I find things that fit, I assume that I was meant to wear it. this is why I have been so flabbergasted lately with the placement of darts on women's clothing.

for those of you that don't know, www.thefreedictionary.com has the 5th definition of dart listed as: "a tapered tuck sewn to adjust the fit of a garment". see picture.

my problem is the placement of the darts when on a top. the end of the dart is always exactly where my nipple is! this gives the impression that I am either cold or aroused all day long. that is hardly work-appropriate, even though I work somewhere where there is no dress code whatsoever. it's not really all that public-appropriate either, unless I want to objectify myself for some sort of gain (which I'm not generally interested in!).

and you know what the worst part is? none of my t-shirts have darts! wifebeaters don't either! they are reserved for my "classier" clothing. the cute dress that I want to wear to a summer wedding or the button down that makes me look psuedo-professional.

I just don't get it.

summer vacation

I've never felt that my group of friends and I had a whole lot of get-up-and-go. we tend to be pretty chill and homebodies to boot. so imagine my surprise when we spent nearly every waking moment this weekend out of the house - playing, hanging out, drinking. it was like being 6, but with beer.

Friday night, Zac was due to come visit. so was our friend Keiser. we decided to kill 2 birds with one stone and all get together at Gene's. and all is kind of an understatement. we were at least 15, and in a small dive bar, that's over half the bar.
Key points of Gene's:
- someone spilled an entire beer on me. I was entirely understanding (hey, karmic retribution baby!) but he felt so badly that he bought me a drink. nice.
- when Zac walked in, we all yelled "Zac!" and made jazz hands in the air
- we owned the jukebox for at least 3 of the 4 hours we were there
- same with the dartboard
- Stoli drinks are only $3

Saturday looms earlier than expected, but I have time to recover before disc golf. we head out around 2 and practice putting at the practice hole until everyone shows up. it's me, JP, Colleen, Brian, Brett, Silent Bob, Zac, Shannon, and Nick (the dog). the boys play and the girls (and Nick) sorta trot along behind them. I cheered for everyone and made sympathetic noises after bad throws. after a prior unfortunate incident in which I was ignored by the ice cream man, I had an intense craving for something that was 90% high-fructose corn syrup and frozen on a stick. so the ice cream man comes our way and we flag him down. only he's unlike any ice cream man I've ever known. for one thing, I've found that most of them wear shirts, are under the age of 45, and don't necessarily make me feel yucky and ashamed just from talking to them. but maybe I've been spoiled, I don't know. Shannon's quote after walking away from him was "You should have to get your child abuse clearances to do that job!"
but we eat our frozen treats without incidence and then decide to adjourn to D's for hot dogs, fries, and beer. and we sit there for a LONG time consuming just that. afterwards, we're tired and it's hardly bedtime (7!) so we get coffee and head to Frick Park for some bocce and frisbee. while there, we discovered bunnies playing leapfrog and the innards of a baseball (which actually sparks more conversation than you would think). from there, it was onto Silent Bob's where the adventure continued.

fast forward to Sunday afternoon and we're at Will and Shan's with Kara, Zac, and Jordann (Shannon's new co-worker). we grill 75 pork chops, 8 whole fish, 14 lbs of sausage, and a giant steak. add 12 lbs of pasta salad, 47 ears of corn, 6 pints of blueberries, and gallons of cool whip and we have our meal. I haven't eaten that much food in a long time. probably not since the Superbowl.

I'm a little pink from all the sun, a little sore from falling down while trying to catch a frisbee elegantly, and my apartment is a mess. but nothing beats the feeling of summer vacation (even when you're 25 and know the grind will catch up with you Monday morning).

unidentifiable origins of sexual side effects

JP and I generally shower together. it takes less time than 2 separate showers and we get to talk for a little bit in the morning. it's nothing sexual, it's just showering, but you have to share the hot water (which does suck in the winter). this morning, I'm washing my hair, humming a little song, and JP goes "what's that?" I look in our fogless shaving mirror and I have 2 large, red hickeys on my neck.

they weren't there yesterday and neither of us have a memory of them happening last night.

here are my hypotheses:
1) JP has started sucking on my neck while both of us are sleeping
2) the cats have started sucking/biting on my neck while I'm sleeping
3) I have some sort of weird rash that looks like 2 distinct hickeys
4) some stranger sucked on my neck without my knowledge

I'm not that heavy of a sleeper. I would wake up if the sucking that caused these happened. and when I say large and red, I'm not exaggerating. it's supposed to be cooler today (only around 80), but I'm wearing a scarf. yes, it is a trendy little skinny thing, but it's still a scarf. these suckers will not be covered up by any makeup means!

seriously, wtf?
does anyone else have any theories? similar experiences?

if you have a problem, yo, I'll (try and) solve it

there are many ways that I am "girly". I understand the importance of having polished toenails, wearing an uber-bra that reforms your entire torso (no matter how uncomfortable!), and reading Cosmo. however, contrary to everything that I have ever read about the female brain, I want to solve your problems.
women are supposed to be sympathetic listeners and men supposedly try to come up with solutions. I do both. as I'm listening to you and nodding, all I can think is: how can I fix this? what can I do to make this better?
I think it comes from the caretaker part of my personality. everyone needs to be fed. cats and husbands need some loving (though in very different ways!). people need me to bring beer to their house. you get the idea.
lately, I've had a problem that has no solution. and it drives me crazy every single day that I can do nothing about it.

I can't bring Steph home.

I sent 2 packages to her this week. I email her everyday. what else can I do? what solution is there? politically, there's no way I can do anything that will make a difference to her personally. with him in office, there's no way we'll withdraw troops. I can campaign and help all I want for the '08 election, but by then she'll be home. sure, it's a good idea to help other mothers-of-3-girls-under-6 stuck there or ready to deploy, but it doesn't solve my problem of the moment. I can't visit. I can't take up a collection to send James and the girls to her. the best I can do is keep her stocked with powdered Kool-Aid and DVDs, and it seems like so little.

(note: if you have a spare positive thought, please send it Stephanie Pierce's way. she's stationed in Iraq for the next 14 months, and has a husband, 3 gorgeous daughters, and countless friends waiting for her back home.)

in the fold

well, I've done it. it took 9 months and 12 days, but I now know the names of everyone at work.
this might sound strange. at every other place I've worked, it was long before this that I knew everyone else. but at every other place I've worked, we've all had set schedules and jobs that were clear to other people. while I may know their names, I don't know what over half of them are doing (easy answer: research). I'm sure I have spoken to everyone at least once, but that may be it for some. I smile, I say hello, but that's as far as it goes with most. I have my friends at work: Susi, my boss and smoking partner, Isaac, the friendly and talkative IT guy, Ashish, who I met up with on that fateful happy hour night, and of course, Lisa, the also young and talkative girl...but that's about it. my officemate and I talk occasionally. my old officemate and I talked occasionally. while friendly, neither of them seem happy to just strike up a conversation for the sake of conversation.
I have 3 theories:

1) 2nd language: most people in my office speak English as a second language. most speak English fairly well. however, the English I speak is not taught in any classroom. it's also faster than just about everything, including the Gilmore Girls. out of about 35 of us, there are 6 Americans. I'm not sure I translate well.

2) Social awkwardness: ok, no one likes stereotypes. unfortunately, they do exist for a reason. I work mostly with programmers. people who work with computers a lot do not tend to be the most socially boisterous crowd. I'm guessing that shyness is a contributing factor in my lack of knowledge about my co-workers.

3) No more room: there gets a point where a group does not really have more room for anyone. I don't mean physically, I just mean that there's nothing missing. this makes it much harder to integrate yourself. it's possible that everyone is just happy with their own little cliques and aren't accepting applications for new members at this time.

so, who knows? I've come a looooong way since last August. I feel comfortable walking around here. I'm not the newest person. people seem to (sort of?) realize what I do. they (mostly? sometimes?) know my name.

ahhh, well. I guess I should just be happy with my group of friends. we all may be Americans, and some of us may be socially awkward, but we're always taking applications. just come find the data collection girl. she smiles at you when you walk past, and she now knows your name.

I am not your secretary, take 2

this week and next, the admin assistant in our office is in Germany. since our building is locked, people have to call to be let in, like FedEx, the water guy, DHL, etc.. the number posted downstairs is the number of her office phone. so she asked me if I would mind sitting in her office for these 2 weeks and answering the door, refilling the coffee station, and sorting the mail. I said of course, no big deal, happy to help.

ha!

on Monday, everyone was confused. many people stopped by the office and said "You're not Lisa!" (I knew that, thanks). so I decided to send out an email saying, hey, I'm sitting here and letting everyone know that while I am in Lisa's office, I am not Lisa. the email went like this:

Hey y'all,
I just wanted to let you know that I'll be sitting in Lisa's office while she's in Germany for the next 2 weeks.
Here's what I can do for you:
-sort the mail and put it in your mailbox
-answer the door
-sell you cappuccino and put out coffee, sugar, and creamer
-give you candy
-give you keys to the supply closet
Here's what I can't do:
-anything else that Lisa does for you
I wish I could be of more help, but unfortunately I don't know how to do what she does. You can ask, but I'll most likely have to say "I don't know". Your best bet will be to email her. She will still be checking email in Germany.
Thanks!
Freya

so far, I have had a bazillion requests that definitely fall under the "anything else Lisa does for you" category, such as:
-buying plane tickets
-knowing our director's schedule
-ordering office supplies

I thought my email was clear! what part of it made you think that I know where our boss is at all times? or that I somehow have the power to buy you a plane ticket? I'm still Freya! I'm just in a different office!

just because I'm a woman and wore a skirt today doesn't make me a secretary

I just had the most infuriating conversation with a man on the street. he was soliciting donations for some needy kids program. a perfectly good cause, as far as I'm concerned, so I gave him $10. here's how part of the necessary small talk conversation went:

Him: so, you must be a student around here?
Me: no, actually, I work for CMU.
Him: oh you do? do you do clerical work for them?

are you fucking kidding me? is it acceptable to assume that someone who is young, a woman, and wearing a skirt is some sort of secretary?? now, don't get me wrong. I understand that being a secretary/admin assistant/executive assistant can definitely be a challenging and not very rewarding job. I just don't like when people conveniently stick me in their molds of what they think this 25 year old girl does.

apologies and thanks

after drinking last night (on a Tuesday!) from 5:30pm until 1:30am, I believe some apologies and thanks are in order. in no particular order:

To Brian: I'm sorry we told you you were lame for not coming out with us.
To LeeAnn: I'm sorry we told you you were lame for leaving. In fact, you were smart.
To Josh: I'm sorry I told Genevieve the bartender that you thought she was cute.
To Genevieve the bartender: I'm sorry I told you I'd divorce my husband and asked you to marry me. I think you were freaked out.
To Ashish, my co-worker: I'm sorry that my first reaction upon seeing you was to hug you. I know that's probably weird since we've only ever had about 2 conversations. I'm also sorry if we totally weirded you out by being that drunk on a Tuesday and by rambling on about nothing to you for a loooong time.
To Ben, Ashish's housemate: I'm sorry if we were annoying. I'm also sorry that that's the first time we've met. I hope you won't hold it against me.
To our Joe Mama's bartender: I'm sorry that when I wanted to see your tattoo, I waved my hands around in a really annoying fashion until you paid attention to me.
To Kelley: I'm sorry if your cats got only drunken love last night. I'll go back today to spend non-drunk time with them.
To Brandon: I'm sorry about the weird text messages talking about how we both like Josh. I know we do. I should've left it at that.
To Primanti's: I'm sorry that we came in so close to closing. It won't happen again.

To our Joe Mama's bartender: Thank you for serving us pizza. Without it, we would've consumed no food before drinking ALL NIGHT LONG.
To Genevieve the bartender: Thank you for saying that you didn't think I needed another shot. I can't remember if I took one or not, but I appreciated your advice.
To Ashish and Ben: Thank you for taking us to Primanti's with you and being concerned about us going home. That food and walk were the only things that have made sure today is not worse than it is.
To Primanti's: Thank you for making me my cheesesteak even though you were closing soon. I really appreciated that.
To Josh: Thank you for coming out with us. It was so good to see you! And thanks for letting me pick songs on the jukebox. That was fun.
To Silent Bob: Thank you for, well, being Silent Bob. Last night wouldn't have been so much fun if you weren't there.
To JP: Thank you for being drunker than I was for once.
To Will: Thank you for taking Silent Bob home and being the voice of somewhat reason.

Did I forget anyone? If so, I'm sorry. My brain no longer functions on the higher levels.

so angerfying. seriously.

ok, I'm sorry about yet another global warming related rant. but this was just too much to ignore.

I found an article talking about how expensive gas needs to be for it to make sense to trade in your, say, 5 year old truck to buy a new Honda Civic. There were a lot of flaws in the whole setup (why wouldn't you trade in your 5 year old truck for a 5 year old + Civic?), but essentially the answer is $7.55.
That wasn't what sparked this blog entry. Here's what made me angry, left as a comment. My comments are in square brackets:

"I am so tired of people trying to force the environmental nonsense on everyone else.
Guess what, greenies, you ain’t so green yourselves. [um, ok?]
As scientists, make that extremely reputable scientists [who?], continue to distance themselves from the idea of ‘global warming’ (and many are now changing their opinion from support to ‘does not support’) [I don't believe you], I am shocked at how many people truly choose ignorance and Al Gore’s documentary as their sources of knowledge. [what about those that choose scientific reports by the IPCC as their source of knowledge?]
Increased solar activity is the primary contributer to global warming. [says who?]
At least that’s the best explanation we can figure out without relying on computer modeling and guesswork combined with force feedings from Gore. [well, geez. if we can come up with an explanation without a computer, it must be right! right now, in my head, I decided 24x17 was 156. guess what? I was wrong.]
But hey, let’s examine the OTHER side of the coin. You know, the measurable environmental impact of buying a hybrid.
So how do they make them?
Well, the batteries are mined in canada from a nickel mine. For miles around the mine, there is a dead zone where no animal or plant life exists. [the next comment is from someone who says they live in Canada next to one of these mines, and that there is no dead zone. but go ahead.] Nickel is toxic and the mine has destroyed all life for miles. But that’s not all…
The nickel is then shipped via boat (burning thousands and thousands of gallons of gasoline and dumping gobs of toxic chemicals both into the ocean and the air) [but if it's not causing global warming, is it really that terrible?] to China, where the mined nickel is refined and built into the batteries for the prius. From there, the batteries are shipped to Japan via boat (again, spewing toxins and burning tons of gasoline) where they are installed into the prius. Then, mostly completed Prius’ are shipped via boat (spewing pollutants again) to the US, where final assembly is made. Then those Prius’ are shipped via truck (spewing toxins) across the country for delivery to dealerships.[and all other car parts and cars are created, built, and constructed behind dealerships, therefore not shipping parts or the semi-finished/finished product?]
Awesome!
And what happens when those batteries are no good anymore? we don’t really know, but nickel is toxic and needs to be disposed of properly [just like regular batteries that I'm guessing you just toss in the trash? AND the rechargeable NiCad batteries (made of, guess what, nickel!)? are you against those too?] - we don’t know how and no one monitors this [I'm guessing that if your Prius needs to be junked, a junkyard knows what to do with it. just like regular car batteries!], but hey you can sure feel good about how great your car is for the environment.
The fact is that a brand new Hummer lasts longer [huh? because Priuses have been around long enough to draw conclusive evidence?] and contributes less to the net effect of pollution over the course of it’s life [ok, now you're just making shit up]. Not to mention it is cheaper to operate, repair, and maintain. [right, because maintaining the gas in something that gets less than 10mpg is cheap.]
But hey, go ahead and buy the Prius if it makes you feel good. Who cares about the massive amount of damage manufacturing it does, forget the fact that repairing one is expensive [like Saabs? and VWs? and Volvos? are you against them too?], and ignore the fact that we are going to have an environmental nightmare on our hands when we retire the cars. [again...you don't think someone will send/give the batteries in some sort of hazmat facility capable of dealing with this?]
Also, ignore the fact that all the hype is about a 1 degree shift in temperature that correlates precisely to increased solar activity. [according to...?]
Oh yeah, and the fact that less than 3% of the worlds ‘greenhouse gasses’ are contributed to mankind. [again, source please? are you not counting all the methane given off by animals that we raise to feed mankind?]
Or the fact that kyoto treaty countries have fared worse environmentally.
How is it you people are able to ignore scientific consensus failure time and time again?
How is it that you are willing to accept a ‘consensus’ argument when it goes against the very nature of science?
Please.
Good article. The math makes sense and the argument is sound."

yeah, but your argument sure isn't.
asshole.

Local Man Rescues Bat and Sweater!

last night, I couldn't sleep. I finally managed to fall asleep around 2:30, which is SO past my bedtime. so this morning, I slept in...until 9:25! yikes!
so the morning consisted of my running around, making coffee, getting ready, etc. as fast as I could. even though it was late, I decided to walk to the bus stop because I'm still on my global warming kick, and it's only a 15 minute walk. so I've got my iPod on, strolling down our apartment complex driveway. I hear a weird noise (like a little bleat) and some rustling, so I turn around. on the driveway is a teeny lil' bat, obviously injured in some way, staring up at me. I looked closer, and he definitely looks to be in bad shape. but I don't want to just pick him up for a multitude of reasons (rabies, breaking him further, biting in general, etc.). I try and call JP, but his phone isn't on. so I walk away. and leave him laying in the sun.
the whole rest of the walk to the bus stop, I felt so guilty. how could I just leave him there? but who could I call? the zoo? Animal Rescue League? are these people really going to send someone to come get an injured bat that very well might be run over by the time they get there? what do I do?
I call JP again and he picks up. I tell him the story and he says he will investigate the matter. essentially, I asked him to 1) find someone who would come rescue the poor thing and 2) stand next to the bat until this happens, to make sure that no one runs the poor little guy over.
about 2 minutes after that, I call him back. I realize I left my sweater sitting on a bench at the bus stop. my favorite, classic, irreplaceable black sweater. could he go pick it up? he agrees to do that.
I finally get to work and am updated. JP rescued the bat! he put a dustpan in front of it and a towel behind it and sorta scooped it into the dustpan. then he took him to the shade, where he said he flapped around quite a bit. then he went and got my sweater. when he came back, there was no sign of the bat. I like to think that he flew off to his living quarters to heal, and that all he needed was a little bit of rest in the shade to allow him to get home.

seriously, who indulges their wife when they call and tell you to tend to an injured bat and then go pick up their sweater at the bus stop? I'm so lucky to have him.

eternal optimism = lots of disappointment

I have to admit that after the Gilmore Girls finale, I was pretty pleased. it was a fitting end to the show. the last screenshot was exactly what it should've been. and so I was a little bit sad, but it was going to be ok. I can revisit the 7 seasons whenever I want (well, once the 7th comes out on DVD). there's a lot of material there. enough to satisfy my want of Gilmore Girls.

but, bad news kids. they canceled Veronica.

after only 3 seasons. I own the first 2, and when I watch those, all I want is more! they're so good. you can feel the potential oozing out of each episode. but I guess the transition to college was too much for them. this last season was, to be honest, pretty disappointing. I liked Mac's larger role, and I thought Piz was adorable. but I was prepared to let Gilmore Girls go, and now I find myself having to prepare for next Tuesday to be our last new Veronica viewing experience. since it was just announced today that it was canceled, Rob Thomas obviously didn't plan this to be the series finale. I'm afraid that it will be disappointing rather than satisfying in the way GG was.


the woes of liking things with a cult, and not mainstream, following.

continued bitching

ok, so I've been on a "global-warming-awareness/save-the-world" kick lately. I realize my judgment may be skewed for hormonal reasons as well. however, I just read this and I was appalled.

there are people out there who change their sheets daily?

seriously?!?

the time that you're wasting aside, you're doing a huge batch of laundry every day. if you have kids and you do this for them, you're doing several! plus, most people wash sheets in hot water. this wastes an amazing amount of energy, both heating the water and running the washer/dryer!
are you showering? if so, I'm guessing that you're not dirty enough to make your sheets gross on a daily basis.

I haven't gotten to the point where I'm totally crazy about consumption. I still take hot showers, I still drive my car, I still use electricity and my dishwasher. my life changes have been so subtle and easy that I find it amazing other people aren't on the bandwagon! replacing incandescents with CFLs, switching to the 'energy saver' setting on the dishwasher, recycling, using my own bags at the grocery store...none of these things have been hard to do. and I'm guessing if the whole world did it, it would make a huge difference.

everyone always complains that one person can't make a difference. but the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change claims that it is individual action that can make a difference: "The panel…said for the first time that lifestyle changes could help fight global warming."
So...let's do it! and then I'll stop my soapbox preaching, I promise.

when it rains, it pours

ok, last post of the day. I promise.

does anyone else get a LOT of wrong numbers on their cell? I'm talking several weekly. because at least twice a week, I pick up the phone to deal with something like this:

me: hello?
random person: who's this?
me: you called me. who's this?
random person: George. is this Rocco?
me: uhh, no. I think you have the wrong number.
random person: is this (412)XXX-XXXX?
me: yeah, but there's no Rocco here.
random person: are you sure?
me: yes!

or here's an oldie but a goodie:

me: hello?
old lady: hello?
me: hello?
old lady: uhhh, hello? I need to make an appointment.
me: I think you have the wrong number.
old lady: I need an appointment with Dr. So-and-so.
me: you have the wrong number.
old lady: this isn't Dr. So-and-so's?
me: no.
old lady: (obviously miffed that I have ruined her plans of making a doctor's appointment) well then!

seriously, are you joking? if you called the wrong number, wouldn't you just apologize nicely and say goodbye? it's hardly my fault that Rocco doesn't know his own phone number or that Dr. So-and-so's is close enough to mine that your lack of manual dexterity connects you to me.
by far, my favorite was an entire day of wrong numbers. someone named Mary had given out my phone number to MANY different people, telling them that she could be contacted there. her mother, grandmother, boyfriend, friend, and guy friend all called that day looking for Mary. some people were confused when I said there was no Mary there ("well, when you see her, could you tell her I called?") and others were irate ("she told me I could call her here!").

does this happen to anyone else?

life changes

wow, it's been a long time since I've been here. life is always crazy, but lately, even more so. JP and I have plans every weekend from now until July. if you want to hang out, call anyways. I always try to fit more in.

the past 2 times JP and I have gone away together, we've done it very nearly immediately after some big event, so that we have no time to get used to things before we leave. the worst case of this was the wedding. we left the day after for a foreign country in a time zone different enough that we were completely thrown out of whack (not wiggedy, just the regular kind.). this after 6 months of planning one night of our life, followed by sleeping in hotel, and frantically unwrapping piles of cards and presents before we left. it was surreal, to say the least.
and then we go and do it again! JP finishes law school finals and we leave the very next day to go to Boston to visit Jess. Will and Shan came, too. it was an awesome trip, filled with lots of wandering, good food, and tons of booze. very happy-making. we got home Saturday night, threw together a Mother's Day brunch for yesterday, and now it's Monday. and I'm confused.
when I go home tonight, I don't have to cook dinner alone. if JP disappears into the office to go do something, I can interrupt him guilt-free. I don't have to feel vicariously nervous about his exams. I'm not worried about when such-and-such paper is due. and I can't wait! we have a whole 3 months to hang out, clean, cook, watch tv, eat ice cream, and argue about whether to get a 3rd (4th?) cat.

but with happiness, so comes the sad.
tomorrow, Gilmore Girls is ending. not just for the season, but forever. I know it sounds crazy and pathetic, but I've seen it all up until this point. I know the show has changed. I hate how Lorelai has ended up so unsympathetic and how Rory is just really whiny now. but I liked spending Tuesday nights with them. and now I can't.

gas silliness

If we all don't buy gas tomorrow (for National Don't Buy Gas Day or whatever they're calling it), won't we all just have to get gas on Wednesday?

Why don't we really hurt the oil companies and all not drive one day? Maybe take the bus to work one day a week. Or drive 10 miles less a week for a year. That might actually get 'em. I highly doubt the price of a barrel of oil would fluctuate because of one days' gas sales. And even if it did, it would go right back up once demand was back up. We have to reduce demand in the long run to have prices fall.

Who's up for trying to eliminate global warming and stick it to the oil companies with me?

natural cleaning and the one product I can't live without

up until yesterday, the last time my apartment was fully cleaned was when Steph visited the first weekend in March. there were times when my kitchen looked almost like this picture (except that I'm much better about stacking dishes up so that they look like less of a mess). while no one would ever ask me for cleaning advice, I usually attempt to keep dirty things clean. clutter is fine, dirty is not. we've talked about this before.
my problem is this: every year, right around the end of winter, I stop. I stop cleaning, I stop picking up, and I stop caring. this lasts about 2 months, or until it becomes consistently, relatively warm. then I freak out and have 2 months worth of cleaning to do, not to mention all the crazy spring cleaning I decide I need to do.
so this week, I have been cleaning like mad. that's right, the slump is over! I finished all of the dishes. I wiped off the stove for the first time in I don't know how long. and by wipe, I mean scrubbed with various cleaning agents for about 15 minutes until I got all the burned on crap and grease off of it. I cleaned the bathroom thoroughly (the past 2 months there were a lot of Clorox wipes bathroom cleanings). I even cleaned out the oven and the oven racks. that hurt (literally). I inhaled oven cleaner accidentally and spent the next 24 hours feeling like I was having an asthma attack. and albuterol did nothing for it!
because of things like that, I've been on a huge all natural cleaning product spree for awhile now. I decided in January that I was going to introduce no new chemicals into the house. I'd use what we had, and from then on, it's all about vinegar, baking soda, and borax. if I'm so concerned about what goes into my body, why am I not concerned about what touches my food from the counters? or the fumes I breathe? or the environment that I'm dumping all this crap into? and my poor kitties lick everything - I don't want them sickened by my (gone-by-the-wayside) obsession with bleach. turns out that vinegar is just as good of a disinfectant as bleach, and it doesn't smell once it dries. I know you probably don't believe me (because I didn't believe it when I read that), but it's true. there are some biodegradable, non-toxic brands out there (Method, Seventh Generation to name a couple), but they're pricey.

but there's one thing I can't let go of. it's my Arm&Hammer Pet Odor Control Carpet Foam (or something like that). it's a foam spray that you put on the carpet. aside from smelling super yummy (like a fresh spring day), it somehow magically breaks the static between pet hair and your carpet! vacuuming becomes more effective! and the bonus is laughing at the cats as they full out run from the noise it makes (think aerosol air freshener. freaks 'em out every time.). I don't know if I'm actually vacuuming up more hair, but the smell is enough to convince me that I can't live without it. luckily, it's not distributed by Proctor&Gamble, so I guess I can deal.

I know I didn't want to just throw away these cleaners (kinda defeats the purpose of not introducing them into the environment), but I really don't think I will EVER use oven cleaner again. seriously, it's the most noxious thing I have ever encountered. anyone have tips for disposing of hazardous chemicals?

oh, and if you ever need to know how to stir up a recipe for jewelry cleaner/window cleaner/carpet cleaner/etc., lemme know! I'm on it.

upset and humiliated.

that's how I feel right now. go see who you are! and stop gloating that you're not Jar Jar.

we keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change

when I was in high school, I always thought I had been born at the wrong time. I was convinced that I would've made a great hippie, and I decided being born in 1948 or so would've been ideal. after all, the hippies were going to save the world and I certainly wanted to, too.
then I went to college. I had tons of friends that I hung out with all the time and we were all so idealistic (except for the few cynical ones). I mean, if all of us thought like this, things had nowhere to go but up, right?
little by little, I realized we were all upper-middle class kids at college. we were educated and never told that anything was out of our reach. we lived in a decent sized metropolitan area. not everyone was like that. not everyone passionately cared what happened to people across the world and not everyone agreed with us. slowly, I became more and more jaded.
after the 2004 election, I totally lost my faith. we threw an election party that night, and we had a bottle of champagne. there were probably 15 of us there, and we vowed to stay up until it was decided. after Kerry won PA, I decreed that the next state he won, we were cracking open the champagne. I fell asleep that night, cuddling a bottle of champagne, around 2am. people were leaving around then, and Jaycanna told me the saddest thing to see that night was me sleeping, still clutching the champagne that we never opened. Kerry won another state around 3:15 (Wisconsin, maybe?), but I missed it.
I woke up the next morning and was glued to the TV. when they announced that Kerry had conceded, I felt drained. I cried and called for JP and we ranted and raved against the country that had taught us we could change the world and then swept it out from under us. who were these millions of Americans? why would they think this? didn't they understand? I felt utterly betrayed. later that afternoon, I researched resident alien requirements for Canada.
I got a little hope back with this last election. I sat on the edge of my seat and danced when the democrats won the house. the next day at work, I refreshed my CNN screen at least every 2 minutes. I calculated percentages of winnings down to the thousandths. and I practically wept with joy when Rumsfeld resigned.

the other day, I heard John Mayer's 'Waiting on the World to Change'. and I listened to the lyrics. and I realized that I haven't given up hope. one line in particular caught me: "one day our generation/is gonna rule the population". I can't wait for that day. I like to think we're open minded enough to allow people to marry for love without worrying about hypocritical morals we have. and that no child will be left behind - only this time, for real. my friends won't say things like, "I can't go to the doctor. I don't have insurance." and I won't start sentences with "my friend Steph, who's being deployed to Iraq...". and even if my husband isn't a lawyer, my kid can go to college without having $100,000 worth of loans by the time they're through.

so we keep on waiting, waiting, waiting on the world to change.

I am such a girl

I have always assumed that when it came down to it, in an emergency, I would be calm and collected. I like to think that I could be the voice of reason after a fire or car accident, or whatever. while I may be overdramatic at times (I know! you're thinking, Freya? never! but it's true!), I can control it.

last night, I'm walking down my hallway towards the bedroom. it's dark. there's something on the floor. what do I do? turn on the light, maybe? no. I poke at it with my bare foot. why I thought this was the best way to determine what the mysterious object was, I'm not sure. feeling something unlike a cat toy or cat vomit, I'm confused (this comes back to WHY I poked at it if I thought it might be cat vomit, I know.). so now I turn on the light.

dead mouse.

on my carpet.

in my hallway.

so you know what I do? do I praise the cats for their hunting prowess? do I calmly go get a paper plate or something to pick up the mouse and take it outside?
no. I screech and scream and freak out. I start jumping around, just in case there are more dead mice that I'm accidentally touching. and then I press my back against the wall and use my (now soiled) feet to hold myself up, so I'm no longer touching the de-consecrated hall carpeting where a mouse has met its demise. JP has to come and take it away. naturally, my next step was to look all over the apartment for other dead mice. finding none, I am somewhat relieved.

and then I wake up this morning, get myself ready. sorta stumble on a laundry bag I have sitting in the living room. and out runs a mouse. directly into my foyer closet. JP is still sorta sleeping, so I'm trying not to make noise, but he heard my mouse gasp from the bedroom. and I don't know why I was trying to be quiet because the first thing I did after seeing the mouse was run into the bedroom to tell him about it.

so, I can't decide. what's worse, a dead mouse or a live one?

thank you Katy.

after I posted about being terrified of failing at design school, I got a bunch of pick-me-up comments from y'all, which I very much appreciated. now, my friend Katy is getting married on May 27th, about a month away. even with all that craziness going on, after reading my post, Katy mailed me an Anne Taintor postcard with a "you can do it!" message and an alternative career idea (pole dancing). it's now hanging on my refrigerator and any time I feel like I can't do something, I will go read that and see that people believe in me. even people who aren't necessarily my very closest friends. I can't tell you how much that means to me.

thanks Katy. you seriously made my day.