The weekend is upon us!

It's Friday. Hurray! Another week down.

Only five more to go:)

Not like I am counting or anything right?

I think that on Fridays I am going to start doing a 'week in review' type entry. Its my blog and I do what I want so there.

Several of you have written me wonderful and encouraging things about how much you enjoy reading about the various

(mis)adventures of my daily life and I wanted to take this opportunity to say thank you :)

It makes me happy that my blog is being used to procrastinate, enlighten and inspire.

Perhaps inspire is a little extreme but I will allow it.

I like to write and you all enjoy reading so it works out splendidly.

So back to my list :

My current song of the week - “Paparazzi” by Lady GaGa.

I have been listening to this song on repeat all week and I am still not tired of it which says a lot. Clearly the Lady has fun dance songs but I like this one the best. I am posting a link to the video. * Note there is some scandalous material so those offended by amorous embraces might want to skip this one.

Favorite Quote of the Week -

“Now I know what the founders of Phillip Morris felt like. You just wanna give people a smooth, fun way to relax, and suddenly you're just some terrible monster.”

-Michael Scott on last nights Office

Highlight of the Week -

Being on the short list for what might be an amazing job opportunity

(but shhhh don’t ask me about it because I don’t want to jinx it)

Lowlight of the Week-

Having my Air Conditioner leak through my floor into my bathroom, then having it turned off for a day (its August!) then having the wet carpet smell like death, then having it fixed only to have it smell even worse. It is just now at the point where you can walk in without wanting to projectile vomit.

Zumba Highlight -

There is this family mom, dad and two daughters probably 13 or 14 who come to the Y every Thursday night and they all do Zumba and they warm my heart. I too have been a fat kid my whole life and I always mentally picture my parents and Jon Greene shaking it in a Zumba class and the image makes me laugh out loud and it instantly cheers me up.

* Note to my family, there is still room open in class!

Favorite Person of the Week-

Vega Brown for purchasing me fresh tomatoes from our local Farmers Market so that my lunch could have more vegetables. That’s love :)

Alright kids I hope that you all have incredible weekends. The Greene's are going to the beach, hurray! I need to get as much sea as possible before I am official landlocked.

Ciao!

OMG how embarassing.

Sometimes I think really Erin how do you let these things happen to you all the time?

I went to my Y last night for my evening workout routine and had worked up quite a sweat doing my circuit training. I was rocking out to my banging Britney Spears playlist and was aware that I was getting more odd looks from other gym goers than usual.

Sometimes I get a little too into my Britney mix and the world i.e. the weight machines become my stage. I have to remind myself that the reason earphones were invented was just in case those around you did not want to listen to a popular pop song, performed very off key.

My bad.

So I toned down the singing (and choreography) but the looks kept coming which I then attributed to the fact that I had been working out a lot and lost a little weight and that these people must be admiring how smoking I looked. Which consequently brought the Britney dance moves back out. Hey if you got it flaunt it right?

Upon further examination though I realized the looks were not ones of jealousy at my not-so toned upper arms but were actually more like ill-concealed smirks of mockery and derision.

I was red and sweaty but not super gross and its not like I was falling off the machines or anything. I could not figure out for the life of me why on this night everyone was acting like I was some fancy pants oddity.

Then I figured it out.

As I was leaving the gym still dancing and humming quietly ( alright singing Toxic out loud at a pretty high volume) I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the door window. There I was in my sweaty tank, hair frizzed and curled in ways that only someone who drove a magic school bus could embrace, awkwardly dancing and wearing... pearls.

Yes friends, apparently in my transformation from catering wench by day to weight lifter by night I had forgotten to remove one little accessory that had completely blown my street cred with my fellow gym rats.

I am now the girl who wears pearls while doing lateral curls. Great.

I would have totally embraced it had it been a conscious choice I had made. Lord knows I have been known to wear pearls while doing far more scandalous things but there was always tequila involved and those around me did not smirk and judge so much as they fell down and yelled obscenities.

I have Zumba tonight so I won't have to face the 'lifters' but come tomorrow I will have to make a decision, rock the pearls as if nothing was awry OR somehow become incredibly buff overnight so that no one will mess with me for fear of bodily harm.

I think my choice is pretty obvious :)

I f*ing hate Vera Bradley

Rant, rant, grumble, rant.

Sorry I have just returned from the Office Depot where I waited in line behind honest to God five women with Vera Bradley bags, several even had matching wallets.

Now this is not really that unusual for this area. Loads of my sorority sisters loved Vera, several even bought her napkins (yes the bitch makes napkins) so that they could cut them up and make letters that would match their bags.

No really. That happened.

I have engaged in this conversation alot with various people, some of whom own Vera things and the end result always makes me look like a shallow quilt hating wench. I know in my heart though that I am no such thing, and that goodness will always triumph over evil... its biblical.

I am furthermore convinced that the devil has several matching Vera Bradley collections, with coordinating luggage and that he carries different bags for every day of the week. Perhaps from time to time while torturing sinners in the fiery depths he mentally debates the merits of paisley vs. quilted prints. I would not be surprised.

The kicker though is that they are not even cheap, they are really expensive ugly bags. Realllly expensive. I used to say that they were alright for older women who knit, but my grandmother knits and I would never ever want to subject her to the horror that is a Vera Bradley. Grandma Greene is way too cool for that nonsense.

I have been ranting against this woman for years and I thought that the trend was beginning to die down until I went to the store today and saw that in the enclave of Williamsburg Vera still reigns with her evil pastel fists. Sigh.

Maybe I will be able to escape her in the Boro. Maybe Midwesterners spend their disposable income on fashionable, chic handbags and accessories. Bahahaha right. About that......

I shall close with an antidote,

I was once at a shopping center on a date when he made a point of mentioning that this particular mall had an entire Vera Bradley store which he would be happy to point me in the direction of. He said it in earnest genuinely thinking that I would be pleased and excited by this revelation. He clearly had not anticipated the vitriolic hate filled rant that ensued. Making matters worse he defended himself by claiming that 'all my sisters had them' and that they were 'cute'. Needless to say from that moment on I knew that it was not going to work out.

Call me shallow, call me elitist but I hate Vera and when I stand at the pearly gates of heaven and God is rocking the latest Birkin bag I will know that I have come to the right place. As for those of you who feel comforted by the false promises of a paisley print goodluck with those pitch fork wielding demons, at least your bags will match.

*p.s. If I love you and you own one don't worry I have been praying for you for years and Jesus understands :)

Time is on our side... sorta

Recently I have been writing about being hopelessly bored and lonely but this weekend was wonderful and a massive break from the ordinary mostly because I got to spend so much of it with my incredible familia.

The Floridians stopped by and I got to meet some beautiful blonde boys who will some day wow the world with their incredible dance moves. I got to visit with the menage-a and enjoy a Project Runway moment but mostly because I got to hang out with the Richmond Greene's.

Home is the most incredible place, great food, really clean and comfy and full of love and free toothbrushes :) Absolutely wonderful. I have been itching to get on to the next step of my life but I realized this weekend that the transition period can be enjoyed to. I got to wake up and watch cartoons with my little brother, we got mommy a new phone so she can text, and I have slowly but surely begun to supplement my lost pearl collection... what could be better?

Now that I know there are alternatives to sitting in my shed on a Friday night with sugar free Jello and a copy of High School Musical 3 I am definitely going to start taking advantage of them.

I wonder what next weekend might bring :)

Oh p.s. note to self in the future do not take your parents to see a movie about a young woman who hates her job who becomes a famous blogger.... it does nothing to help your claims that you are not a real writer and blogging is just for fun. Nothing at all.

Zumba with a Z!

My new favorite thing in my life is Zumba class. It is incredible and I can not stop saying enough awesome things about it.
After boy abandoned me to pursuit his academic dream I was left with a whole lot of free time and instead of spending it wallowing in self pity I decided to join my local Y.
Best. Call. Ever.

Not only did the Y fill up some of the hours of agonizing boredom but it also introduced me to the glory and wonder that is Zumba. Basically its a class where you dance to really fun music in fast, sometimes sexy sometimes tribal sometimes Latin ways. Amazing.

Now I have taken it for about two months and I have comprised a top 5 reason of why it rocks which is as follows :

1.) It is in the dark so if you mess up, fall, sweat alot, have no idea whats going on or like this kid mess up a whole lot and just giggle like a nerd no one can see you. Plus everyone else is really busy doing the same thing so no one is judging you. Unlike a particularly pretentious aerobics class I only attended once.

2.) The music is super fun and fast. Gus and I were actually at a Mexican restaurant in Illinois and one of my Zumba songs came on and I really wanted to break into my routine, but I just kept eating instead. Bad Erin, Bad.

3.) I absolutely worship my teachers, they are all incredible but I have a favorite and I attend all her classes faithfully. She is gorgeous and is able to move her body in ways that defies laws of nature and dare I say physics. They are all really inspiring and they just make it really fun.

4.) I find myself carrying Zumba into other aspects of my life, you notice it here and there a little more strut and a little more wiggle all in moderation of course ;) It really just makes you more aware of yourself and more confident. I would like to say it has improved my posture and skin too but I won't go that far because that would just be lying.

5.) The biggest reason why I love it is because I don't dread going. I actually look forward to it. Its become my Thursday date with myself and the other women (and men) in the class are all kindred spirits in our Zumba nation.

I don't really know why I decided to rant so much about Zumba, I just thought I would share with you all how incredible it is and if offered anywhere near you then you should join a class immediately if not sooner. Everyone is equal, everyone shakes what their mommas gave them and you all do it to a Shakira remix that would make South Beach proud whats not to love?

Viva le Zumba!

Bat shit crazy? Perhaps.

Call me crazy if you must. I think the clinical psychologist in my life might agree with you.
Although I always get really annoyed when he tries to diagnose me because the crazy in me prefers to exist without being labelled or judged. Insanity deserves that much dignity at least.

The reason I feel even crazier than usual is that once again I have begun talking
(not muttering, there is a difference)
to myself.

Now this is not new to me. I have talked to myself for years, and I get it from my momma - she actually has countless conversations going on inside her head at any given time. You know they say that crazy is genetic.....

It just seems strange to me because this trait only manifests itself when I spend enormous amounts of time alone and as a consequence spend entirely too much time in my head.

This can be problematic as I begin talking to myself, inanimate objects and the moon.
Today my toothbrush got a diatribe about how much I love Lady Gaga.

When I was in Ireland the moon and I were a bit of an item and as such he was required to listen to my one sided rants on my walk to work every morning.

I don't know if its just the need to hear something said out loud and not just think it in my head, or the more likely scenario is I am just a few weeks away from full fledged bag lady style madness.

If it does come to that it will be entirely my own fault. I know there are tons of you out there who would be happy to talk to me, however my hatred of phone call conversations precludes such long distance interactions. There is nothing I love more than catching up face to face and there is so much that cannot be expressed in a phone call.

This has been a point of contention basically my entire adult life with matronly figures (cough) expressing their dissatisfaction with my lack of telephone calls and now far away friends and boyfriend being equally displeased, although they express it using much less guilt.

So I could have actual real life people to talk to that actually talk back but for some reason I pick my shampoo bottle, my bunny and random people on the radio to hold conversations with.

This is why I am crazy.
I feel like that is a pretty accurate diagnosis and we are just going to leave it at that.

Yes, its a nautical reference... so sue me

It might be the fact that my alma mater is named after a pirate or that I will soon be way more than an hours drive from the ocean but I have started to think about more and more things in terms of the sea.

Then while reading an article about the hopeful resurgence of the bed and breakfast industry I came across this quote...

"A smooth sea never made a skillful mariner." - Anonymous

Which got me thinking as insightful quotes are prone to do. Yesterday was sort of a dark day for me in that it feels like time has literally stopped and that I am in a weird Williamsburg limbo. I have not started training my replacement (as there has not been anyone hired), but I am essentially useless at work. It is too early to begin packing, but not to stress about how much stuff I have managed to acquire. I find myself in the classic hurry up and wait position and it is very easy to get frustrated that although everything is right on the brink of changing.... absolutely nothing has changed. Ugh.

It does not help that my recent foray into a new, clean and healthy life style frowns upon drowning ones sorrow at the Green Leafes pint night. The things that I used to love to do no longer hold their same boozy fat kid appeal, and the things that I am going to love doing I have not discovered yet. Which leaves me with grilled chicken, an elliptical machine and my old friend Frasier Crane.

Very sad but true.

Anyways, my nautical quote spoke to me. Its not supposed to be easy, I have chosen to move and start a new life and I have over analyzed this decision to death but in making it I actively decided to leave my calm seas behind. Eh, get it my life is like the ocean....

It just feels like right now I am not so much a 'skillful mariner' as I am a young lady who managed to find herself on a sailboat, in the middle of a lake, on a day with no wind and is not.going.anywhere.fast.

I would almost embrace a really rough ride* right now because at least it would be something to do, a challenge to overcome.

*Note: Universe, that is not a challenge/invitation to screw me over somehow.

Someday I feel I will be the skillful mariner in my deep and insightful nautical quote, not right this second obviously because I am currently trying to use all my lung capacity to blow my sails and move my little boat out of this friggin lake...

but someday, yes someday I will rule the seas :)

Gainfully unemployed?

I understand that this is not really the best economic climate to be picky about what kind of work you do. There is however a disconnect between my understanding that concept and being able to accept it...

According to Monster, CareerBuilder, Craigslist, Illinois Skills Match, the SIUC Job Bank, Instant Jobs Now, Indeed, Simply Hired, and Yahoo! Hot Jobs I am qualified for very little. Veeeeeeeeeeryyy little, like delivering pizzas little. What I am qualified for usually involves the words "clerical" and "filing" both of which cause me to internally cringe and make a terrible face at my monitor.

The job that I stumbled ass backwards into that I work at now started as something to do right out of school until I moved to Ireland and has become a way for me to learn lots about everything. Getting to be involved in weddings, web design, marketing and of course the great food definitely has its perks but yet and still I am just a glorified secretary. Seriously the next person who refers to me as a secretary to my face might just get beaten up. I feel like devising a strategic keyword ad campaign for major search engines is something that secretaries don't really do. Just saying.

One of the biggest lessons I learned from my trans-Atlantic adventure is that if you are surrounded with supportive people and love your job you will be a happy productive person with shiny hair and the ability to bake. Well sorta. But if you hate your 'flatmates' and your job and are crazy homesick then you will be miserable.

So I have one part of the equation down, I love my roommate very much and he can bake. The only variable left in this equation is the perfect 'career' and I don't think it would be fair to boyfriend to start our new life together constantly embittered because my boss keeps calling me "missy" and makes me alphabetically order his tire invoices. I mean worst case scenario right?

That is the other problem is all I keep thinking about is worst case scenarios. What if there are no jobs for me and no one hires me. Boyfriend is a grad student and while someday might be a Dr. (PhD. but it still counts) right now is still a broke ass student and cannot afford to pay a mortgage and support my wig habit simultaneously. So what if I wind up being a pizza delivery girl, or start working in an office with fake wood laminate desks and fluorescent overhead lighting heaven forbid. I keep asking myself if that would be so bad and the uppity wench in my head who needs to lay off on the eyeliner keeps screaming yes.

Also, please make no mistake I am not trying to act like I am too "good" to do these jobs. I think I have paid my dues, loads of waitressing, interning, filing, faxing, typing, interacting with other peoples children for profit, talking to very dumb people on the phone for long periods of time... been there and done that. I am ready for what will become a career, not just a "job".

Lets see here are the things I am good at and like to do, what kind of career would you recommend?

I like to write, take lots of pictures, play dress-up, meet people- all kinds of people, everywhere,
scrap, design, attend cocktail parties in elegant dresses, thrift, spend time talking to and learning from those who are smarter than I am, travel, shop for unique things that no one else has,
sample local micro-brews, make mixes of illegally downloaded music, drive around inner city areas looking for the best wig stores, sing karaoke, go to the beach, wander around libraries aimlessly,help people (not in a ohmygod I am a saint way, just in simple everyday ways) plan parties, oh and I like to write :)

So based on those things I am cut out to be either a drag queen librarian or a 1950's socialite.
I wonder what I would get if I typed that into my Monster job search criteria...

I think I would be great in non-profit fundraising, or as a wedding coordinator for a small vineyard or museum ( not a far cry from what I do now, just more midwesterny), or owning my own vintage clothing boutique next to a restored movie palace (ahem), alas such positions are difficult to find in a rural coal mining town, or probably anywhere for that matter.

All I want is to wake up excited about going to work, to not hate my job (not that I do now, I just don't want to in the future) to be able to afford a car with air conditioning and maybe get something with health benefits because I am pretty sure I should be going to the dentist more often.

You spend more time at work than anywhere else and I know what its like to walk to work at 5am in 2 degree weather (Celsius but still Ireland is freaking windy!) and mutter that same mantra in your head over and over..... theresnoplacelikehometheresnoplacelikehome
I have lots of sparkly shoes, some even in Ruby and that game just does not work.

Maybe I should just man up, and bite the bullet its only for a few years after all. I just would not want to wake up five years from now thinking that I wasted my youth fetching someone a nice hot Sanka and answering the phones.

If I could somehow manage to fit all the other stuff I love in somehow well I guess that would just be the ranch dressing on the chicken tenders of life. Or in clerical terms the flavored creamer in the instant coffee of life.

*Authors note... if you know of any one who is hiring in Southern Illinois, holler at your girl :)

Guess whose back, back again....

Uh-oh no she didn't..... (*snap, snap*)
Soooooo I have decided to re-vamp my former "work" blog and turn it into an....

exclusive -
no holds barred-
all about me all the time-
blog.

Boo-ya. How is that for some crazy narcissism?

Its just that I have always found that during these big important times of transition in my life writing seems to become my therapy plus this will be the easiest way to keep my adoring fans (I love you mom and dad!*) updated with fun pictures,observations and such.

*A note to those who have received a link to this blog from either my mother or father and have no idea how to follow my random stream of conscience writing style....

I suggest that you go to Barnes and Noble and pick up a copy of William Faulkner's classic "The Sound and the Fury". After three chapters of that nonsense you will be eager to embrace my lack of grammar and rambling tangents. Or you might just really love it, start fancying yourself a Compson and begin running around a random corn fields screaming for Caddy....
I mean really its your call.

Since I am switching from the life of a former 'catering wench' to something new, different and as of now undetermined I figure my blog should change with the times also.

I can tell that you are all really excited:) As well you should be.....