ruminations 2 Comments

Dressing Up

Watching Dan prepare for his Doctoral audition last night and this morning made me realize: I have no reason to be “professional” these days. I mean, sure, my workplace is quasi-professional, but our dress code is business casual (which, for me, basically means no jeans, sweats, t-shirts, or sneakers: almost anything else goes). We’re not the kind of professional workplace where it’s required to put on airs and/or a suit.

I no longer perform in concerts, like choir or band or wind ensemble or whatnot, so I have no reason or opportunity to put on my best black dress and some makeup—stage makeup, even, sans lipstick for wind instruments—and stride out to swells of applause, holding my head high and aloof. I don’t even go to church anymore, so I don’t put on my pantyhose and one of my nicest outfits (with a skirt or dress, of course) and do my hair and makeup and wear perfume, and shake everyone’s hand and smile and act reverent when appropriate.

I suppose I could dress up just because, but it doesn’t have the allure that a special (or not-so-special) occasion does. When Aaron and I go out to eat anymore, even someplace “nice” like Red Lobster or Dolly & Joe’s (mom-and-pop place, great prime rib), the odds are 50/50 whether we’ll just go in jeans, anyway.

I don’t even *own* that many seriously “nice” clothes anymore. In the years between my old, pre-obese weight and my current non-obese weight, I sloughed off several sizes’ worth of “nice” clothes that I couldn’t fit into anymore, or that I just got tired of. All my poet’s blouses, all my starchy white oxford-esque blouses, most of my “good” skirts, blah blah blah. As for Aaron, I know he’s got blazers, but doubt if he even owns a decent tie, and I’m not sure if he has any “dress” shoes. Not like either of us really have any reason to own said formal attire.

I used to be very elitist about certain things. I felt totally at home in formal wear—at least, concert-going or church-going formal wear, anyway. I’ve changed so much since then; sometimes I feel like I’m not even that same person who played first-chair clarinet or sang in the chamber choir or felt naked leaving the house without lipstick. Was that me? Not really… not the “me” I know now. Now I’m perfectly content going makeup-less, and business casual is as dressy as I get. And I’m OK with that.

the ongoing saga of my job

It’s Hard To Soar Like An Eagle…

…When You Work With A Bunch Of Turkeys.

Sometimes I really wish I could blog about work. Sometimes I think I could write my entries in such a way that no one would be the wiser; I could hide the identities of my co-workers to protect the innocent and the stupid. But then it occurs to me that, no matter how I were to mask the true identities of these people about whom rumors fly, or about whose orientation I’m unsure, or whose personal habits and idiosyncrasies perplex me… if they happened upon my site, they would undoubtedly realize I’d been blogging about them.

Telling my husband or my friends about my co-workers is one thing; they don’t know any of these people, will never see them, and likely may never even meet them. But postings on the internet have a way of getting back to people, and I’m not prepared to get Dooced just to share my confusion about the girl who always runs across the parking lot after work, or gossip about a former temp, or show pity for a given co-worker’s physical challenges, or describe exactly how easy it would be for a bank employee to be generally scandalous, or what-have-you.

And that’s really too bad. There’s some weird shit that goes on here sometimes.

randomness

Excited? Or Manic?

I feel excited today, like I have lots of fun projects to look forward to later tonight. Since I figured out how to make the sewing machine go last night, I have lots of ideas of stuff to experiment with and practice, to prepare myself for making a fursuit and fleece hats and such. Half a dozen people in the office have commented on the tealight sampler that Holly bought from me, asking me what all I sell and how much candles cost, so I?m all geeked to try some more scents and add a PayPal shopping cart to my candle website and post photos of my available containers and all that. And on top of all that, I still have some updates to add to the LakeShoremen website, in addition to doing some preliminary designs and critiquing other corps? websites for design ideas. Oh, and I need to practice my mellophone and do some exercise (which I?ve been neglecting for the past week or so, due to various issues).

Now, if I can only maintain this excitement through the work day and make it carry over to this evening…

Update, 12:44pm: Still happy, even after a 10-minute nap during my lunch break (which always has the potential to make me groggy). The blue sky an fluffy white clouds are exciting me now, even though I know it?s still friggin? cold outside. I?m rarely genuinely happy like this, so I?m kind of basking in it while it lasts. Usually I?m depressed for no good reason?being happy for no good reason is a pleasant change.

Update, 2:59pm: The sun is beaming into the window by my cubicle, casting neat highlights and shadows on the budding geraniums in the windowsill. I?m still in a good mood, but not quite as much as I was. Now I?m just anxious to get home, and I know I still have two hours to go.

Update, 8:43pm: Not enough hours in the day. Not enough energy in the Diana. Made a yummy dinner of garlic-ginger chicken with low-carb linguine (yes, my own concoction), then updated the LSM site. Now I’m tired and don’t want to do anything constructive. Now, even though I’m excited inside, I can’t get enough oomph to fire up the sewing machine and make… nothing, yet, except strange patterns of stitching on practice material. Maybe once I chill for a while and eat a low-carb fudgie bar and find a new book to read, I’ll be interested in sewing some more.

Ah, intentions… *sigh*

health & fitness 2 Comments

My Virtual Model

I remember making one of these back when I was checking out wedding dresses: My Virtual Model. I saw this on someone’s diet blog, debunking the “Marilyn Monroe was a plus size” myth, and decided to make one for myself again.

Just for shits and giggles, I made three versions of me: Before, Now, and My Goal. For those of you who are squeamish at seeing even a virtual model of me in only a black bikini, I’ve put the screenshots in a popup window.

Anyway, the Now model is kind of forgiving. Imagine bigger cottage-cheese thighs and flabbier arms, and a little more of a belly poonch. Hmm. Better yet, don’t imagine that. Might be better for your mental health. And, believe it or not, the Before model is actually fairly accurate. My waist was less-defined (read: I had mighty love-handle rolls) and I was… well, let’s just leave it at that.

That said… I’m kind of liking that Goal model. Even if she’s not quite what I’ll look like in 25 pounds. Oh, and I made a super-uber goal model, but I couldn’t even see me as her, so I opted not to post her. At 5’10” and 165 pounds, My Skinny Virtual Model looked like a skinny ho, and I couldn’t relate to her. o.O

sewing 1 Comment

I Must Be Retarded

I’ve got a Bachelor’s Degree, a 140+ I.Q, and three books from the library, and I STILL can’t figure out how to thread a fucking goddamn sewing machine.

I feel like a fucking moron. I want to cry. And the instructional video for Sheryl’s sewing machine won’t come out of the goddamn box.

How am I supposed to make a Totoro fursuit if I can’t even make the goddamned machine go?

Motherfucking goddamn fuck.

Update #1: Managed to remove VHS tape from box, sacrificing one fingernail in the process. Am about to watch said video.

Update #2: See? All I needed was a walkthrough. The nice lady on the tape (who looked like she was from 1986, even though the video was made in 2002) was very helpful in showing me how to thread the goddamn sewing machine. I wouldn’t have guessed any of that. Loop it through the who-huh? Tension spring? Wha…?

Anyway, I guess all’s well that ends well, whatever that means. I now have a piece of brown cloth that has half-black and half-brown test stitching haphazardly sewn through it.

This could be fun. Challenging, but fun.