I miss my old blog. I miss posting pictures. I miss all the readers. I miss the regularity of my writing…. and the creativity.

My job is suckin’ out the bone marrow of my blog, you guys.

I think I’m going to move again… use my real name again… and keep my opinions out of it. That was the biggest deal – my politics were all over my old blog and that just wouldn’t fly in my political job. Neither would those pictures of my cleavage girlfriends at the bars.
I want to start fresh with pictures of our wedding planning and our wedding and our honeymoon… and I want to talk about my job without talking about my job. Oh, and I want to post pictures from Vegas. 😀
I want to write for an audience again instead of letting an audience read what I write for myself.

It’s odd how different your writing can be when you take into account who and what your audience is or isn’t. At first I thought it was liberating, but I’m starting to think it’s not healthy. In my old blog, I’d try to stay positive to keep myself from Debbie Downer Land. Little did I know, without an identity, I AM THE MAYOR of Debbie Downer Land. Keeping a blog with a positive face helped ME stay positive.

This blog has been lovely for the interim and I’ll keep it around. I got too out there with my old blog. Now I’m starting to feel what a new one could become. I’m beginning to see what it is I need from the blogosphere. Bare with my while I feel my way around the dark. I’m still an avid Twitterer, you all know that… now I need to reestablish my place in blog land…. positively.

I’ll start fresh when I know the time is right. Stay tuned.


This week began as a stressful one. My coworkers and I were convinced the world would end by Friday, just by the way the week had been panning out. But the week is ending on such a high note that I truly feel like I’m making a difference in the world.

I know I haven’t been around the blogosphere lately, but truth be told, I’m enjoying my life and I’m doing my darnedest to make sure it’s fulfilling. Blogging has something to do with stages. I started the blog because I wanted to write. Now that I write all day as a job, I maintain my blog and blogger relationships because I cherish the friendships I’ve made and I’ve learned to network through them. I write in my blog to express myself these days, to document struggles and to reach out for encouragement. Today, I want to encourage you.

It’s the little things you do that make a difference. I really saw this pan out this week. Someone wrote us a letter yesterday. All she wanted was to let our boss know the struggles of her demographic when it comes to finding work. (Please forgive the vagueness – I have to be vague! Email me if you want the full warm fuzzy story.) It just so happens we’re hiring someone in her demographic to help others in her demographic. I tracked down her phone number, passed it along to a higher up, and we scheduled an interview for today… and she was hired on the spot. I made a difference in someone’s life. I feel so fulfilled.

It’s funny how things happen for a reason. We had interviewed a few others for this position but no one clicked. No one was the full package. Then, out of nowhere, when we’ve resigned to hiring someone who isn’t entirely qualified, the perfect candidate falls into our lap.

The week from hell that began with phone calls to the police has ended in peace. It makes you believe in fate. It restores your faith in the goodness of it all. I might be tainted because I work in politics, but you know what? We’re trying to help people. And I think we’re doing a damned good job.

(Today I embraced my shying sponteneity and bought a plane ticket to somewhere warm to spend time with people I admire. And I’m admitting that I admire them. Yeehaw!)

In an effort to keep my blog from turning into one of those Today I Did This, Tomorrow I Will Eat Yogurt, Next Week I Will Go Grocery Shopping yaaaaawn… let’s spice it up.

We’re still looking for a ceremony location for the wedding. We’ve given ourselves til the end of next week to decide. The situation that’s troubling me is not the lack of location, it’s the lack of invitations. I’m sooo antsy to start my DIY invites, but I can’t ask the designer to whip up a design before I have all the info! But the paper I bought for the invitations makes me sorta giddy. I have to order more, too. DARN. 🙂

We’re meeting with a florist and a cake lady on Monday. I guess that means we have to figure out what we want in terms of flowers and cake. Haha. We’ve been pretty chill about the whole wedding planning ordeal. It’s just one day in a series of thousands of days. It will be special but it won’t be the most special in the grand scheme. I find it more than a little obnoxious to obsess over your wedding, meticulously planning every single minute detail down to the garnish on the hors d’oeuvres. Get over it and let it unfold. (I will never ever ever be able to spell the word hor d’oeuvres on the first try.)

Okay fine. Offbeat Bride’s mantra is “Your wedding is not a contest.” But, fuck it, mine feels awesome. And YES I JUDGE YOU for your matching pink sucky bridesmaid dresses and your bridezilla attacks over a misplaced red rose. There. I said it. I feel much better now.

I can’t wait to put together gifts for my wedding entourage. (We’re too cool to call them a wedding party.) I found some stuff this weekend that made me squeeee with cuteness. I can’t say what it is because some of my entourage read my blog but just know that it’s going to be SUPER CUTE. (Here’s a hint – I found it at Swoozies!)

Do normal people recognize and accept that they probably won’t have sex on their wedding night? I think it’s going to keep us from letting ourselves down when the champagne kicks in and our feet are sore and cuddles sound better than… other things. No expectations = no disappointments, right? That’s what a honeymoon is for.

Speaking of honeymoon… so there’s this place in Barbados that I am LUSTING after. I don’t have my heart set on it (much) but it looks a-ma-zing. We’re still considering Hawaii and the Bahamas but you know, Barbados sounds awesome… because it’s freaking BARBADOS. Truth be told, anywhere with a fruity drink, a soft bed, and a beach will make me feel like I’ve wandered into paradise. But Barbados would be a cool stamp on my passport.

Can we just pause and take a moment to recognize how incredibly lucky I am to have my boy? He’s currently watching movie trailers online and says to me: “Do you recognize that voice?” “No…” “It’s Jim!” (from The Office.) He lets me gush over certain TV hotties. I may or may not have grabbed my breasticles when he said that. (Hellooooo TMI. Welcome to our relationship.)  On top of that, he doesn’t bat an eye when I decide to take an impromptu trip with some fab ladies. He doesn’t act annoyed when I hop on Twitter instead of tending to the dinner I started (even though I know he’s TOTALLY annoyed). And he listens to me when we’re in bed and his eyes are droopy and I go into a long diatribe about how I do this soul searching and how I realize I need to treat him better blah blah blah psychobabble karma Dr. Phil/Deepak Chopra or whatever-his-face-is kinda stuff.

I’m just so thankful that I’ve ended up with exactly who I imagined I’d end up with. And he has blue eyes to boot!

In an Angela-esque move, I shall end with this:  May you find the one you deserve and never, ever settle.

Sorry for the hardcore Debbie Downer post. The thing about anonymous blogging is that I feel comfortable sharing even THAT. At my old place, those kinds of emotions weren’t appropriate… but new blog, new rules. I say what I need.

Things have gotten better. I pretty much didn’t stop crying from the time my mom left yesterday afternoon until this morning at work. Yes, at work. And no, I’m not even PMSing. I’m just a wreck. Luckily, all the other employees in my office are moms with kids my age so I got momma talk after momma talk after momma talk. And hugs. I seriously needed it. One coworker blamed it on the moon’s position because she’s a hardcore hippie. I love that, though. I think I need to give away my heartache to some celestial being. (I was never comfortable “giving it up to God” or letting “Jesus bear my cross”… they’re dudes, and I don’t think a dude could understand the kind of pain women feel sometimes. It’s more comfortable to blame it on the moon and let things run its course spirtually. Now who’s the hardcore hippie?)

I’m looking forward to an evening of sangria and The West Wing with the boy. On top of the mom situation, there was a bit of a relationship situation that made things even more stressful… but nothing a bottle of sangria and a night of cuddles can’t fix.

Thanks to everyone who commented, tweeted, g-chatted, or emailed me. The internet is quite the support group when you need it and I’m so grateful to have you guys. Thanks for sticking by me even when I’m a seeeeerious Debbie Downer.

For good measure, here’s a quick list of things that made me smile today:

  • Finding the cat curled up on the boy’s blanket on the couch this morning, sleeping. Aw!
  • Accomplishing some scheduling tasks for the boss.
  • Banana cream pie yogurt with homemade granola.
  • That “Chris Brown should get his ass kicked” song on the radio.
  • CUTE PANTS. (I’m in love with the $10 pants I bought at Old Navy this weekend.)
  • The radio’s hysterical mispronunciation of Cubs pitcher/former ND footballer Jeff Samardzjia’s name.
  • Spelling Samardzjia correctly on the first guess.

You know how I get reallllllly excited for my birthday every year? Like I’m still 5 years old? Keep that in mind.

My birthday is Tuesday. My mom came to visit. She’s only been out to Illinois twice since we moved last summer. The last time she came, the boy was home in Minnesota so it was just the two of us. I don’t know if that’s what’s different but this visit just felt plain awful.

She came in Friday night and I made dinner. It was fine. After dinner, we played Wii bowling and went to bed. Yesterday we spent the day shopping for wedding stuff and had a nice birthday lunch. Mom and I were done by around 3 or 4pm. That’s when it went downhill. We had NOTHING to do. NOTHING. I had planned NOTHING. Usually, the boy and I spend our weekends lazily, playing video games, catching up on housework or on our TV shows we’ve missed. We’re not that exciting. Mom felt as though she was intruding, like she was a burden, like she was exactly like her mother-in-law — boring, sorry for yourself old maid with a cat.

I CAN’T HANDLE HER THINKING THAT. I just can’t!!! We spent the evening watching movies on TV. I tried to cheer us up with popcorn. I TRIED to do a good job because I knew everyone was depending on me. And then today??? She wanted to leave early so she wasn’t ruining our weekend. I wouldn’t let her and convinced her to wait around til 11 so we could go out for pizza. She loves deep dish and I wanted to treat her to real Chicago deep dish. So we went to Giordano’s at 11…. but they didn’t open til noon. So we tried Lou Malnati’s… but they were closed. I JUST WANTED TO PLEASE SOMEONE. I was so frustrated. So we sat in the Giordano’s parking lot like freaking HOBOS until it opened.

I’m so emotionally drained. I took her back to the airport so she could catch the bus back to Indiana and I’ve been a crying emotional mess ever since. Why does she feel so down on herself? Why did I have to move so far from home? Why was this weekend SO hard?! Why must she feel so sorry for herself? Why can’t I just FIX IT?!?!?!?! Why do I feel guilty for having a happy, comfortable life? My mom is my best friend and it just KILLS me knowing she doesn’t feel welcome in my house. It KILLS me that she feels she’s a burden to me. I was SO looking forward to her visit so we could spend some time together and do wedding stuff but it just ended up AWFUL. I just wanted to make her feel welcome and I ended up stressing myself out, feeling sorry for MYSELF, and making everyone around me feel like SHIT because I took my task too seriously.


I should carry this picture in my wallet. I DON’T brush my hair. Seriously. Call me gross, but I’m so fabulous that my hair is wavy enough not to brush but straight enough not to use any products. I go for that “I just crawled out of bed” natural sexiness every morning.

Also, I’m lazy.

Sometimes I don’t feel so fabulous. (Thanks to those who reassured me in a moment of vulnerability via twitter that I am.) Sometimes I don’t feel fabulous when I feel I’ve screwed up or that I’ve been painted in a bad light or… well, you get the point.

But the truth is? Even though certain acquaintances are in med school or flying around the country on business and even though I’m just a staff assistant… I’m a staff assistant for a staff that’s sort of a big deal. My voice is heard on kind of a huge level. I get the inside scoop on kind of enormous issues.

And the best part? I’m getting more responsibility.

Nevermind that I’m already overloaded. Nevermind that I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut after most days of work. Nevermind that I commute an hour. Let’s discuss how I proposed to senior staff that my boss needs an online social networking presence. Let’s discuss how our director of communications thinks that’s an awesome idea. Let’s discuss how I confessed to being an avid blogger/twitterer/facebooker and I wrote my senior thesis on virtual communities. Let’s discuss how senior staff wants me to get more involved in new media on behalf of the boss.

I have visions of Twitter accounts dancing in my head… government: Julia Allison style.

Also? I am freaking fabulous. (And I promise to brush my hair if I get famous.)

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