The Big Move

My life has recently taken quite an unexpected turn.  At the end of the month I will be leaving my beloved city, Indianapolis and jetting across the country to Seattle.  

 

This all started after a well known company (one with a big smile on the box) reached out via Linkd IN about a marketing position.  At the time I didn’t think much about it, but after 3 phone interviews and an in person interview, I got the job.  Unfortunately, that led to panic on my part.  I know for most people a more high profile job and higher salary would be a no brainer, but for me it wasn’t so easy.  

 

I love this town.  I love the people in it and the community they form.  I’m happy in my current job.  I love being no more than 30 mins from all of my family.  I have great friends and a great home.  For me, that’s all very important.  I hate the idea of missing any time with my 5 favorite people in the world – my nieces and nephews.  Ultimately the decision came down to this:  what’s the worst case scenario?  I thought about it from all sides.  Let’s say I go, worse case scenario, I move back.  I’ll have to pay back relocation but I can undo it if I need to.  If I don’t go, the worse that would happen would be regret.  That is something I can’t undo.  I’ll admit that I knew I had a call on Monday at 11:30 with HR to give them my answer.  Up until 11:29 I was on the phone with my mother in tears saying “I just don’t know what to do.”  

 

But, since I’ve decided to do, I’m ready to get myself up for this adventure.  I will have 2 fantastic years all the way on the other side of the country and find out more about myself in the process.  As my friend Shannon said, “it’s like an associates degree.”  Most everything right now is still pretty unknown.  I’m not sure exactly when I move (some time the end of June), how I’m going to move, how I’ll get Bogie (70lb dog) there with me, where I’m going to live, but I’m sure it’ll all work out and all happen.  

 

So far, I’ve been doing my research by watching Sleepless and Seattle, Real World Seattle, and Singles.  Other than the two days I was in town for the interview, this is all I have to go on.  I knew nothing about Prague before spending 4 months there, and I loved exploring it, so I think of all I can uncover in 2 years.

 

Everyone has been amazing. Friends and acquaintances have all sent notes and emails of encouragement.  I’m already counting on the few people I know there to be my best friends.  I hope they’re ready for it.  I figure if worse comes to worse, 2 years from now, at least my skin will be absolutely glowing from all the omega 3s I’ll get from the fresh salmon I’ll be eating.  I’ll also finally have time to finish all those craft projects I never get done.  I have a quilt I was making for my cousin’s daughter.  It was supposed to be for her shower, then her birth, then her first birthday… and it’s still not done.  My craft eyes are bigger than my craft abilities.  BUT NOT ANYMORE.  TAKE THAT WORLD.  I’LL FINISH A QUILT!!!

 

If you’re an Indy friend reading this, trust I will miss you terribly!  It’s funny the things that went through my head knowing I’m going to leave. I thought about missing the Paul McCartney concert, Jenn’s and my annual Tonic Ball night, birthday parties, even fireworks from the best view in the city – my house.  The best solution right now is to get you all to move with me.  So if any of you are feeling like a change, move to Seattle!  I’ll at least settle for regular visits.  No really, you all have to visit.  

 

 

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I Witnessed a Marraige

Yesterday, I had the great pleasure of being a bridesmaid in a wedding of my dear friend Sarah.  Sarah and I have known each other since pre-school.  While it’s not that rare in Shelbyville to have known someone in preschool.  In my life, it is rare to still be good friends with them.  Sarah has seen me through my very adorable preschool phase right up through my bowl cut in kindergarden (the start of my downfall).  Note:  I tried to find a picture of my bowl cut.  Thankfully, I think I burned them all.  She knew me in elementary school when we had “Dress As Your Favorite Book Character Day” and I went as Scarlet O’Hara and made another friend be Melanie.  We knew each other when having a pool party for your birthday was the COOLEST THING EVER (which she got to have, stupid November birthdays).  She’s witnessed me botch my final piano recital (I think I got 2 notes right in the entire song), and was a prom date Senior year of high school.  Note:  While looking for the prom pic, I found a lot of ones with me having really stupid hair dos.  I’m thinking my next post should be called “Ug, I’m gross.”  I also realized, for a few weeks there, I looked smokin’ hot and not fat at all.  I was too young to notice.  I will call that post “I Looked Smokn’ Hot and Not Fat At All”.

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After high school we both went off to our small liberal arts colleges and even joined the same sorority.  After school, we reconnected when we both started going to the same church.  This began a nice steady stream of lunch dates and many catch up sessions.
 
If you’re reading this in Indiana, you’re aware that yesterday was pretty much the hottest day on record. I think it’s the hottest consecutive day since 1934… or something like that.  
It
was
hot.  
It was can’t even be embarrassed by the sweat marks on your bridesmaid dress hot.  It consider plunging in a cow troff hot.  It was sweat off all your make up hot.  It was hard to catch your breath hot.  It was stand in front of the misting stations until your dress is soaked hot.  Amazingly, Sarah looked like perfection in the heat.  I don’t think she as much as lost a drip of sweat.
 
I alway imagine that when I sweat I look all sexy like this:
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I’m all, look how sweaty I am.  Look how hot it is that I’m sweaty.  Don’t you want to come and dance all up on this?
 
In reality, I look much more like this:
Image
 
I know, right?  I’m a little bit nervous about any reception photos that may be out there.  I also managed to bust the one thread that was holding the top of my dress together in a modest fashion.  So I also apologize to all the young children and elderly who I might have offended.
 
I wish my deepest congratulations and best wishes to Sarah and Dan.  I know they will have a lifetime of love and happiness as well as good photo blackmail of me looking like a drowned rat.  
 
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And Some More Stuff That Should Send Me Down A Shame Spiral

I’m back to the blog because I’ve had some super embarrassing things happen to me lately (or since I was born).  I believe that someone with a life just a little more together might really take these events to heart and feel a sense of shame.  They might, say, notice a pattern and try and start doing things to keep these things from happening to them.  I choose, instead, to share them with you and make you all feel much better about your lives.

 

Earlier last week I ran into my ex and the woman he left me for.  Ok, that should be embarrassing enough to admit right there.  I was dumped for another woman.  But I’m going to just make it more painful for everyone else and keep going with this story.  We’ve been broken up almost a year, so any wounds are pretty good and healed.  No really.  It’s been a year and a pretty good year at that.  This was, however, the first time I’ve ever seen them together.  I’ve seen them both separately but not together. No matter how much time has passed or how mature you are, you still want to “win.”

 

If you’re like me, you imagine the first time you see your ex on a date that you’d be doing something so wonderful and cool that you would have to WIN.  You could care less about them, because whatever it is you were doing at that moment was just so cool you couldn’t be bothered to care they were there.  I played it out in my head and I imagined I’d be doing 1 of 2 things:

thing 1:

I’d be on the back of a motorcycle with my arms tightly holding onto Ryan Gosling.  We’d both be in leather jackets and skinny jeans and ironic Doc Martens.  I’d maybe even be smoking a cigarette with red lipstick rings around it. (footnote: I don’t smoke.  I really don’t have an interest in smoking, but it seems so cool to casually flick your lipstick stained cigarette as your rev off and away on your motorcycle…with Ryan Gosling).  I’d be laughing at something very intellectual and arty and just seem too bad ass for words.  He’d be very much in love with me and quote Bukowski to me or something.

Image

Hey girl. Hope on my bike and let’s ride away.
Ok cool.

thing 2:

I’d be in a long gown, tiara, long white gloves, and a cigarette holder (Hmm… maybe I secretly want to take up smoking?).  I’d be attending a state function as the arm candy for Prince Harry.  I’d have the perfect mix of intellectual wit, manners, and I’d be “so real” it’d be refreshing. I’d be off talking important state matters and polo matches as Prince Harry just laughs. I tousle his ginger hair as he looks up with me with a sheepish grin saying, “You’re just so real, it’s refreshing.”

 

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Wow, you’re so real it’s refreshing.
Thanks!

Spoiler alert:  Neither of these things happened.

Instead, when I ran into ex and girl I had just come from the gym.  I don’t dress for the gym like I probably should.  Instead, I wear cropped leggings as pants and a wife beater.  There is NOTHING sexy or attractive about this look.  It’s much more about me not understanding spending money on anything athletic, and I hate when shorts ride up.  So I’m wearing leggings as pants and my wife beater and taking Bogie on his walk.  I… maybe… hadn’t washed my hair in a few days so I had thrown it into 2 french braided pig tails. It was a very hot day and Bogie has a lot of fur, so being the kind dog owner that I am, I brought along some water for the dog – I’m toting this water in my fanny pack.  I’ve had my fanny pack for years, but I typically wear it slung across my shoulder at the Pitchfork Festival.

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This is an acceptable way to wear your fanny pack

 But oh no.  Of course I wasn’t that day.  Thad day, I was wearing it around me like a mom passing out juice boxes after a soccer game.  I looked ridiculous.  There was no portion of my “look” that should be ok to wear in public.  NONE OF IT. 

 

I was also listening to Game of Thrones on audiobook.  Thankfully that couldn’t be heard threw my headphones, or I would have just been too embarrassed, I actually might have died.

 

So I’m looking so ridiculous, walking my dog.  I don’t have on my glasses so I don’t see them sitting at an outside bar enjoying a drink.  I’m just walking along, I’m sure making facial expressions matching whatever is happening in Game of Thrones.  Once I get close enough and realize what I’m walking up to, I take it all in, feel like an idiot and give a little wave.  I keep walking until I reach the bench to give Bogie his water.  I kept secretly hoping Gosling would show up and I could save the situation.  But he didn’t and I couldn’t.

I guess I didn’t win this one.  I got caught rocking the fanny pack.

 

Moral of this story:  DON’T WEAR LEGGINGS AS PANTS IN PUBLIC.  

I’m still going to wear my fanny pack.  It’s super practical, guys.  

 

 

 

I’m back for an extra embarrassing story

I wanted to pass along this sad sad story of my life to you.

 
So, for the past month or so I’ve been taking my dog on runs. This may be shocking for you to believe, but it’s true.  I should qualify that my runs mainly involve me running (more like quick walking) for a block and then walking 5 blocks until my heart rate comes down from the near fatal levels.  I hate running, but the weather has been great and it helps Bogie release some of his energy.
 
Anyway back to the story.  So today I went on my run.  I wasn’t in much of a mood to run.  I thought I would cut it shorter and walk most of it.  Since I’m doing laundry I decided to wear my old Nike sports bra.  Normally I have a super intense sports bra that could be confused for a  medieval fortress.  On my run, I’m actually feeling pretty good.  I have a better stride than normal, and I feel like I’m running more than walking.  I’m down Mass Ave, where I see one of my good friends driving by.  I happily wave, excited that someone can testify that I was out running.  I run into a guy I used to work with and we chat for a bit.  Things are going great and I’m feeling really confident.  Then, I turn into this alley area to head back home and I look down.
 
There, I realize that during my run, my boobs have jiggled out of my bra.  
 
 
Go ahead and reread that line…
 
My boobs are less than halfway in my bra and it’s very obvious.  They just worked their way right on out of that bra, and managed to be around my belly button but still pressed down on the top by the bra so it just looks bizarre.  I can’t even describe what it looks like at all.  It’s just that off putting.
 
I decided to walk to the rest of the way home.
 
This confirms that my body was not intended for any sort of physical exertion.  
 
I hope this helps you all realize that no matter what happened in your day today, your boobs didn’t work their way out of their bra in public.

10 Year Plan

My senior year of high school in AP English we had to write where we saw ourselves in 10 years. This was probably one of the easiest papers I have written in my entire life. I have a had a career path in mind starting in 7th grade Careers class. I knew where I wanted to go to college and what I was going to study and what I would do. I had plans.

10 year plan (this is the abridged edition):

I’ll be living in a big city, something like New York or Chicago. I’ll be an executive at a PR firm. I’ll have a large loft apartment with hard wood floors and exposed brick walls. I’ll have a closet full of designer clothes and a Fendi bags. I will live with my adorable Old English Sheep Dog. I will be fabulous in ten years.

Fast forward 7 years.
I’m a mid level employee who works in a cubicle in Indianapolis.  I work in advertising so that part is close to the goal.  I do have hard wood floors and exposed brick! I do not, sadly, have designer clothes or Fendi bags or an Old English Sheepdog puppy. I’m afraid that the sum of these parts makes me slightly less than fabulous.  Not bad, but not fabulous like I anticipated.

I have 3 years to really start rolling.

I think the time I wrote this I was into watching Sex and The City. I was going to be one of them. Traipsing around drinking Cosmos and ruling the world. I think almost every girl my age has had the same fantasy…well except for the people in my high school English class. I definitely got some stares when I presented this to the class.

I’ll Drop a House on you, Too

In the past week I have managed to make myself sick.  I mean completely physically sick.  I have never in my entire life not had an appetite.  It didn’t matter if I had the stomach flu or was watching Discovery Channel surgeries on tv – I’m ALWAYS a little bit hungry… until this week.  I had to force myself to eat some sushi for lunch.

I’ll pause for you all to pick your jaw up off the floor.

These were all symptoms of me becoming a big girl.  I am officially a grown up.  A grown up that can’t  turn back.

I’m buying a house.

yep.

It all started a few weeks – or 25 years ago depending on what version of the story you want to hear.

My dad is in commercial real estate, and for a good chunk of my childhood I had no idea what he did.  To be honest, some of it is still a bit hazy.  Because of Dad’s career, I’ve heard a million times the value of owning property.  I’ve heard about how it’s an investment and can pay off in the end.  It all made sense until I was old enough to really understand what owning property entailed.  It might be smart but I never thought I’d be able to do it.

About a month or so ago I started thinking about my own house.  I knew the market was starting to pick back up and it was a now or never moment.  And there are only till April 15th for that bomb diggity tax credit.  I started browsing real estate websites.  I’ve done this for years just because I’m curious what houses look like on the inside.  I started just looking at one place and there.  I started talking to Dad and Adam (who is also in real estate) about it.  The more I started looking the more confused I became.  What the hell is a FHA or  principal and interest?  I’M A COMMUNICATIONS MAJOR.  I WROTE A PAPER ON ANCHORMAN ONCE.

Two weeks ago Dad set up a few showings.  After looking at the ones we had set up the realtor suggested we look at one more property and we agreed to humor him.  It was in a neighborhood that wasn’t on my list.  It was close proximity wise but is still up and coming and my mom was not ok with that.  We walked into the house and it was instant.  It was like the house read my mind.  It perfectly suited me.  It was completely redone with new appliances and everything.  I was in love.  It’s a historical home but with an oven that cooks evenly… JACK POT.  The next few days I kept sending my parents articles on the neighborhood and how great it was.

Once we were all on board I had to decide if I was willing to take the leap.  I had NO IDEA had to make that kind of decision.   Early one Saturday morning, I parked my car in front of the house and for a good 15 mins or more just sat and prayed, “Lord help me. Lord help me.  Lord help me.”  I didn’t even know what else to articulate.

Finally I just did it.  There was an offer, there was a counter, there was an acceptance.  The entire process from seeing it to accepting took 1 week.  It was the 5th place I looked at.   It’s been so fast.

Once it happened, I shut down.  It wasn’t until yesterday or even today that I’m dealing with it. I couldn’t get overwhelmed or excited or anything.   Cue the sickness.  I’ve never felt myself do that before.  I knew I was causing it, but I couldn’t get past it.  Finally, I started talking about the house.  Letting it be ok to be a little terrified as I  signed the millions of pages with interests rates and numbers on it.

It was like magic. I felt the nausea start to go away.  I was happy to eat my Jimmy Johns for lunch today.  I think my long hot bath didn’t hurt either last night.

I also changed the back ground on my computer to be this:

I mean how awesome is Gloria Steinem in this pic?  I’m using it as my inspiration.  I can be a young unmarried woman and own a house.  I don’t need to wait for a man for me to make smart financial decisions.  TAKE THAT!

So, I think I’m still a little sick over the entire situation.  I mean there’s a lot to think about and deal with.  But I am incredibly thankful to know I have a support system.  I feel amazingly blessed to have had my Dad and brother help me out.  I had to, and happily trusted them 100%.

If all works out I’ll closing on May 27th.  You all are invited to come and help me weather protect (that’s a thing right?) the deck on the back.

My Acceptance Speech

Ahh! I…Oh… I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I’m standing here right now. I should not be here. Meryl, Meryl, come up here. This award belongs to you. Every award belongs to you. It is because of you, a girl like me knows what acting should look like. May we all strive to be a fraction of you Meryl.

I would like to thank God above for his wonder. I’m still in shock!

I have to thank my director, Marty Scorsesse. You discovered this midwest girl and brought her to hollywood. It is because of you I have met the two important men in my life – Oscar and my husband/costar Leonardo DiCaprio. Baby, you are my it! Thank you for your inspired performance in this movie. You brought out my best performance on this film and in my life.

I want to thank my parents for everything. For letting me be in Wizard of Oz in second grade and then letting me watch the movie every single day for a year after that. They put up with my dramatic nature and gave me constant support and love. Hi Brody and Josie. Aunt Best loves you.

[Insert some culture reference and make a political statement… maybe some tears]

God bless!

Julia Child

Like most women who have seen Julie and Julia, I love Julia Child.  She is a delight plain and simple.  Her book , My Life in France is splendid like everything else about her.

One of the creative partners we work with exposed me to this image and I can’t stop starring at it.

I love how it’s an angle you never see of her.  I love that it shows all the people required to make her a success.  I love that is shows the “magic” of tv.  And I love that guy’s gut hanging over his pants – just doing his job.

I feel like handing Julia Child her pie pan would create much more excitement if it were me.  But that’s his job, so I bet the excitement wears off.  While I can’t have that job with Julia, I would gladly sit behind Martha and hand her spatulas if she wanted.

Julia and I are already bff.

Lost… More like found my soul

This blog post actually started as a Tweet but I quickly learned I cannot convey this in 140 characters:

LOST STARTS IN EXACTLY ONE WEEK.  MY PRECIOUS LOST IS RETURNING TO ME.

I cannot wait to start this season.  The only down fall is that it’s the last season – no more after this.  What am I going to do next year.  NO – STOP IT – I CAN’T THINK LIKE THAT.  LIVE IN THE MOMENT OF THIS SEASON.  namaste.

This season I’m expecting great things.  They have a lot of questions to answer and I can’t wait to see how they do it.  I hope they bring back the polar bears.  They’ve always held a special place in my heart.

For the premier 2 years ago, I had a little party (3 people – Jenn, Bethany, and Erik).  The best part of the party was the food I made:

Sayid’s humus

Hurley 7 layer dip

Sun and Jin’s Egg roles

Tropical Fruit and yogurt with vanilla wafers crumbled on top to look like sand and a toy plane sticking out.. CUTE RIGHT.

I doubt I’ll get that Martha for Tuesday’s premier, but who knows.

Can you wait for the premier……EEEEK…. sorry I just thought about it again.

I have my Sayid action figure on my desk each day looking out for me.  I’ll bring him home for the premier.  I think he’ll like watching himself just being a bad ass.

The Search Ends…

I have had a quest for some time now for the perfect shade of nail polish.  I’ve been looking for a shade of brown and a shade of green.   I searched the world wide web in hopes of finding the desired shades.  I kept finding browns that were either too dark or too light or too red.  The greens were too yellow or too bright.  For a while I thought I was searching in vain and would have to simply to live without my dream colors.

BUT ALAS VICTORY WAS MINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My favorite, non Martha magazine – Lucky finally turned onto what I was looking for:

Road Trip Polish

“Driving through the desert on her way cross-country, entrepreneur Gina Carney-her new company, RGB, makes 17 impossibly chic nail colors-needed a polish change.  Toast, a cool, urban mushroom, won out.  ‘When I made it, the shade seemed arty and downtown-ish, but suddenly it had dusky, road -trip feel- like when you get off the highway in the middle of nowhere, very dirt-road-in-the-desert.’ Indeed, though we love all of her spot-on perfect neutrals, we love Toast…the most”

http://www.rgbcosmetics.com/products/toast.html

I got Toast and Minty… and they are PERFECT!!!!!!!!!!

If I had my way, I would have a mani-pedi once a week.  But sadly, my real person lifestyle doesn’t allow for such things.  I actually really use my purchased nail polish all the time.  I think I wore Moon Over Mombai for a year straight.  It’s simply an investment piece.

I wish I had better pictures… but I don’t so try not too judge too harshly- unless you think it looks awesome