Bad day at Black Rock

Unemployment sucks. No two ways about it. All your dreams of sleeping in, having tons of leisure time...ptoof! Ha. Sucks. A long day sending out resumes and hoping the phone will ring and it won't be my mother asking for the 10,000 time how I am. I'm fine. I'm bored. I'm broke. I'm wondering WTF I'm doing with my life. Why did I leave journalism to try to be a lawyer? Stupid. stupid. stupid.

At my age, shouldn't something be gelling? Is my lot simply to never had a lot? (not to be read like alot)....Is this the end? Is this what I'm supposed to have?

13 has always been my lucky number. Married my 13th boyfriend. Lived in apartment 13 when I got my dream job--which was on the 13th floor. Its always meant the best for me (ok, that boyfriend thing didn't work out too well but that wasn't 13's fault)....So now we're in 2013. Trying to make my own reality. Just need to decide what that is.

Warning! Rudderless female. Pointless executive with too much education and time on her hands. What happens now?

Yes, it goes to 11

11 things I have learned in Texas   1. Pardon the fashion sense of every female on Rock of Love but women in Texas do NOT wear cowboy hats. Straw or otherwise.   2. Gas in Texas is cheap. Jersey cheap. Better then Jersey cheap but you have to pump it yourself.   3. A hot day in Texas is over 105   4. A cold day in Texas is below 85   5. Everybody here keeps their cars suspiciously sparkling clean.   6. The Speed limits on most Texas highways is 80, some even 85. May have something to do with #5. Passing cars are a blur.   7. Even Democrats carry guns here   8. Armadillos are not nice   9. nobody recycles   10. Drinking is the National pastime. Big Drinking. Like regular adults (with children) regularly do shots. Like coffee after a meal. 11. Texans are very touchy/Feelie. You will not get out of a bar, coffee shop or even library without someone putting their hands on you. It can be disconcerting. Every neighbor on the street touches your forearm or your back. Office mates touch your shoulders. Its all in a nice way but the personal space thing is not a Texas concept.

Don't Fear the Bitch

Why do smart women often have to pretend they are dumb (giggle, smile, apologize) to be liked in the office? Apparently you can be smart (read: Bitch) or well-liked (read: non-threatening)...but its hard to get both. Not that that smart can't be liked or liked can't be smart but far too often I see women who have total control of an entire genre of items at work have to run their ship like a friendly babysitter. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying the Liked means bad at your job. Not at all. Both options that I'm talking about are winners in the workplace. Excellent in fact. But there is the one who walks with the invisible "I rock at this job" banner above their head and those that wear the "I'm cute & approachable but not scary" tag on their back. This is not an accident. Women choose these roles. I guess we all want to be liked but why can't a person be liked and rule the school? Look at Anna Wintour. God forbid you are smart, skinny and beautiful. Then you just lose all around. Everybody hates you. Everyone thinks being pretty and smart opens up the world to a woman. From what I have seen, it only gives her a Bitch reputation. It scares men. It scares women. Hell, it probably even scares barnyard animals. And everybody wants to work with people they like, not just people that are good at their job. My issue is that when you start apologizing just to be liked somewhere down the line you start to believe you actually needed to apologize. Somehow you were in the wrong. That will chip away at anyone's self-esteem. The chips become cracks and the self-fulfilling prophecy makes you less effective at work. Its slo-mo shooting yourself in the foot. So I say, be a bitch. Be right. Be strong. Just remember what it was like to be a groveling and don't abuse your power. It's time being strong wasn't something to apologize for anymore. I'm not saying its OK to be mean, unfair, cruel, nasty & selfish in any situation work or otherwise. Confidence is nothing to apologize for. But there is nothing to apologize for if you know the way forward. Follow me.

Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow

Juice Fast Day 3: oh good god. Kill me now. Went to sleep with a wicked migraine. Woke up with the migraine having puppies. ugh. Drank a ton of water. Begged my dogs to have patience because I cannot take them out right now...poor doggies. Cross your paws. Dehydration, headache, nausea, fever, chills. It was baaaaaaad. I don't know if this is actually the results of detoxing or if my body is just pissed at me. I've cheated it of regular doses of caffeine, sugar, alcohol, dairy, fat and anything else that sounds yummy.

How did I get here? I don't eat all that badly. No fast food--ever. Seldom drink soda. I do eat salads on occasion. Vegetables too. Not all fried. I can enjoy a good margarita as well as any real Texan. But lack of exercise, long work days, no fruit in decades has taken its toll.

Time to give my body a break and drink fresh vegetable/fruit juice for a few days. Day 1 at work. Eased into it with some coffee with almond milk (yum). Drove to Juiceland for a few tasty choices and started my fast with the Bambaata. Fresh Pineapple, mango, hemp protein, spirulina and raw almonds. A great way to kick this off. Later, I tried the Tri-Pinnacle: coconut water, avocado, spinach and kale. Difficult but do-able. Lastly, I had the Tigerlilly: cucumber, celery, kale, spinach, parsley and wheatgrass. I tried, I tried but after the occasional sip, I could not do it. Into the sink it went. I'd rather be hungry.

Day 2: I hardly remember. I know I went to the market since I now have a fridge stuffed with fruit and veggies. I know I took the dogs on a 3 mile Park walk because my shoes are all dusty. I think I watched some TV last night but I don't recall what. Is it supposed to be like this?

Back to Day 3: So here we are. I took a nap and my headache is better. The chills are wearing off too. Nausea isn't so bad. I'm on my second juice of the 3rd day. I feel lighter and cleaner for sure. How do people do this for months at a time? I have no idea. I don't think I want to know.

I would sell my soul for some chicken fried steak right now.

Burning House of Love

This weekend I went to the wedding of a co-worker. A Texas wedding. I may be new to the state and perhaps western wedding are always like this so bear with me if you've seen it all before.   The setting: A dusty 3,000 acre ranch in the heart of Hill Country. Longhorns stroll around loose. The green-grey brush ad dry grasses blow in the wind. The car ahead of us is kicking up a mean dust storm. I'm not sure we are going in the right direction. After the initial sing 'Wedding' with an arrow, we have come across a few forks in the road and just followed the car in front. Now its stopped with the window down. I shrug. I don't know either... so we take the lead. After about 10 more minutes we see the outlines of a structure. Up ahead are a few rustic, open buildings. oh boy, my 4-inch heels are in for a treat. This is gravel-land. No smooth surfaces to walk on. What was I thinking? This place is amazing. Right out of a Spaghetti Western.   "There are two kinds of people in the world, my friend: Those with a rope around the neck, and the people who have the job of doing the cutting...."   This is the real deal. Stump seats and open bench seating by a small wooden stage with a bit of white netting tied around the top. It's brutally hot. Upper 90s easily. I am really glad not to be getting married on a day like this.   A lone guitarist sits under a huge tree playing wonderful classical Spanish guitar. The groom and ushers appear wearing crisp chocolate brown embroidered western shirts, ironed jeans and cowboy boots (down here there are no other kind). Then the bridesmaids start the march in aqua-blue dresses and dark cowboy boots. Eventually the bride, flanked by her parents comes out of the back barn and walks down the makeshift aisle. 4 months pregnant, she is radiant but damn its a hot day to be in a long dress with some extra junk dans la front truck.   The ceremony is beautiful. Touching. This couple is truly staggered at the happiness of finding each other. The brides dog is in the front row and has not taken his eyes off her since she walked past. 'I do. We cheer and the real celebration starts. DJ, bottle of Jack, cupcakes and BBQ. Night falls. The DJ rolls on. The bride has not stopped booty shaking all night. Her dog has not wandered more than 3 feet away. No matter what line dance, partner dance or modern dance she does. Her dog is always near. Every one continually takes photos of him. The loyalty is both sweet and heartbreaking. He's in for a shock in about 5 months.     Later, drunken rambling toasts, remembrances, well wishes, line dance after line dance after line dance (I expected the Electric Slide but the Macarena?). Eventually it's last call for the shuttle back to the hotel. Be there or be left in the (literal) dust.   Meanwhile back from the Ranch, celebration Part Deux spins out of control. All hail the local piano bar where co-workers do more than 10 shots (each), heavy metal karaoke (mortifying), and a near fight between a he-man and a gay man who asked his name. Drunken revelry does not even begin to describe the debauchery. "Mrs. Mullen...,""But I don't want to party in the Breakfast room" and  "I was reading her texts as she drove home texting me 'don't text! there are cops everywhere!"...Yeah, you had to be there.  The next morning, bleery eyed with Bloody Mary on my breath, we all stagger to Mexican breakfast. mmmmmm. Gooey cheese and Margaritas. The salve that cures all ills. Texas drinking makes even Frat boys look like sissies.    True Love, Texas Style. This is how we do it.

Hot & Heavy

The Austin Hot Sauce Festival 2012   Picture this. A dry, dry, arid & dry field. I said dry, right? Just wanna be sure my not so subtle drift is catching. Some grass. Patches of dust that kick up when the wind blows. It's a clear day and heat is radiating off the ground in waves that blurry the world like those cartoon mirages. It's 96 degrees and the sun is beating down--accent of beating. No passive sun here. This one is heavy and pissed. Somewhere out there is that dried up cow skull singing "you'll be sooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry.."   Now sprinkle this field with booths and small pitch tents. Add a few thousand people, a booth or two dispensing alcohol and you have the 2012 Austin Hot Sauce Festival. Lines snake backward from booth after booth as fans of hot sauce stand in the hard sun. Sweat is dripping down everyones face. No one here is wearing a dry shirt and me, I can feel the sweat pooling at the base of my spine. The back of my dress is sticking to me no matter how I move.   How to choose which booth to try next? I look around for a few seconds reading the signs. Each one is colorful and has snappy names. "Hot Ass Hot Sauce" "Don't Panic Hispanic" "Glaming Lips" and "Three drops of Death"...Do any of these booths have shade? Ha! Yeah, right. This is Texas. I think back to New York Rule #1. Fuck You. I remember that well. I lived under that rule for 15 years. Need a cab in the rain? Fuck you. Can't pay your rent? Fuck you. Want to avoid that bum peeing in the corner on the subway? Fuck you.  Texas has different rules. Texas rule #1. Drink water. Texas rule #2, do not ignore rule number 1.   Back to the Festival. Ok, I've been through maybe 4 booths. I'm hungry but I'm dizzy. This is not good. I know if I start to see stars, I have maybe 2 minutes before the lights go out so I'm paying close attention to the constellations in my head. Shade. Need shade. We find some bleachers in a shady spot and sit down. This is an endurance fest but not the kind I like. The heat is making my confused and cranky. I don't even want to hang with me. A rest in the shade is not enough. I need submersion and fast.   Later back on the couch, I am still pummeled. The sun here is like nothing I've ever felt before. The sheer strength with which it pushes down. No passive shining here. This is an aggressive sun. It reach and wallops you upside the head. My knees are still wobbly, arms weigh 600 pounds each and the headache is worse. Even the next day I am still wiped. There was a plethora of delicious hot sauces but was it really worth this? WTH? Decisions are made to avoid all summer outdoor festivals until maybe 2015. By then they will have invented wearable ACs....until then, I'm good. Just pass me a margarita & point me to the shady spot in the pool.

Hocus Pocus

I was in a nail salon yesterday and this large older woman came in and climbed onto the pedicure chair next to me. She's yakking to the nail tech while techie works on her feet...and I'm not listening to the conversation until she starts talking about a toilet brush...She explains how next week is her 5 year old grand-daughters birthday and the girl has asked for a toilet brush. "I told my son that he could dress it up with glitter or sumthun..."           Wow, this blew my whole day. The idea of some poor kid wanting a toilet brush as if that were some kid of actual gift really depressed the hell outta me. I thought kids dreamed about Justin Beiber or being a  Kardashian (which incidentally, may require a toilet brush, a tetanus shot, irradiation, etc.) but really, if that's your dream, isn't it time to aim higher?? All I could think of was that old quote from Diana Vreeland "People that eat white bread have no dreams"...snotty to be sure but isn't there something seriously wrong with this picture? I realized a few hours later that the kid probably wanted a magic wand and had been playing with the toilet brush instead. If that's all you have to play with I think a magic wand is a perfectly reasonable desire. Maybe even a necessity. But geez! Then get the freakin' kid a wand. Actually buying her a toilet brush? What's gonna happen when she realized the tool she thought could make her dreams come true actually just removes stains from the crapper? That's a harsh reality I wouldn't wish on the shittiest of people....