Ramblings on shopping

So I found out a couple weeks ago that evidently I like to shop when I'm sad. At least in this instance, I got things I'd been thinking about for a long time, and in a way, I kind of saved money. Kind of.

See, at lunch that day, I bought a pair of shoes for a wedding we're going to in early June. I knew what I wanted and had planned to go several times before, but I finally made it that day. After trying on every pair of nude heels in the store, I found the top pair for $50 ... and a really cute clutch on sale for less than $20.

That night, I stopped at Target while I was out buying a gift for a friend's wedding shower the next day. Since I felt like wandering aimlessly, I headed over to the shoe department, where I found myself in front of a pair of even better nude heels for half the price. (I just took the first pair back today.)

Back at home, I took advantage of a free shipping offer at Victoria's Secret by ordering every pushup swimsuit top they sell so I could find the one that would make me not look like a boy in a bikini (and send back all but one top).

And I ordered a couple necklaces I'd been eyeing on Etsy for several months, thanks to clicking on my listing of favorites and seeing one of them -- a hot air balloon necklace that reminds me of our first anniversary -- had sold. As soon as I saw the seller had posted an identical necklace under a new listing, I snatched it up with a camera necklace ... which I'm wearing today.

Trying to sport the double necklace look today ...

I love the camera necklace, but an unintended side effect is that it now reminds me of the day I ordered it. In time, I think that could be a good thing ...

Luckily, these were all purchases I'd thought about for a long time. Luckily, K doesn't think I have a shopping problem (I'm not sure if I agree).

Luckily, I don't get sad often.

Oops ... dude moment

May 23, 2009: It was a day that was in the works for over two years -- our "I Do, Part 2" ceremony. It was the day K and I had our "real" wedding -- in a church, with a reception, and almost all our friends and family there.

It was a beautiful, special, long-awaited day ...

... that turned into one hell of a party ...

... that I completely forgot about today ...

... That is, until I got an email from K's aunt wishing me a "Happy Dallas anniversary."

Whoops!

At least someone remembered, right?

For the record ('cause we get asked this a lot), we celebrate the September wedding -- the one where we actually became legally married -- as our wedding anniversary. Although we didn't live in the same state for almost two years after (heck, we didn't live on the same continent for 14 months of it!), it was a tough time in our relationship that I definitely want credit for!

It's funny because it's true

Saw this preview last night before Bridesmaids. The last part of it (starting at 2:20) had me laughing so hard I was crying. For several minutes.


The Change-Up Trailer by teasertrailer

*For the record, I make K leave the bathroom if I have to really go. I related to this because once we moved to VA together, K had no qualms about doing anything in the bathroom when I was in there. Just wanted to clear the air there.  

Story of my life

I have a date tonight with a group of girls. We're headed out for dinner and to see the movie Bridesmaids.

It's a girls' night. I never get those. I'm always lobbying for those (specifically the kind where we get really dressed up for the hell of it).

The sad part is, I'm not really looking forward to it. Things have been so hectic the last few weeks that K and I haven't spent any time together. We've spent lots of time together with other people -- we even had a guest with us all weekend -- but none just the two of us.

Leave it to me to finally get my girl time ... and only want to spend time with my husband (who has kickball practice tonight anyway).

A lesson in perspective

I wish I could tell you that my day got better on Friday -- that K and I worked out our argument, and that my day was productive and great from there.

The first part happened. K and I did talk around 3:15. It was good to clear things up, get our apologies out, and feel better again. I wanted to be able to hug him, but at least I could have my head clear to at least make the end of my day productive.

For about 20 minutes, it was nice.

And then I found out one of my kickball friends died. He wasn't on my team, and he was new to the league this season. I met him the first week. He was so fun and full of life. I didn't know him well, but these traits were obvious to anyone who interacted with him. He was someone I looked forward to seeing after the games each week. He was 23.

I felt a little silly for how upset I was about the whole thing. I've only known him for a few weeks, and even then, we've only talked a handful of times. It's just shocking and heartbreaking when you lose someone so young.

With that news, I just called it a day and left work a little after 4. There was no way I was going to get anything done anyway.

It put my day into perspective, obviously, but it was a frustrating way to deliver that lesson. I really do believe that everything happens for a reason and that we all go when it's our time. I believe these things because I trust that God has a plan and, frankly, it's comforting to think there's a plan. Especially when someone so smart, so loved, so full of life and energy, and someone with so much to give is taken from us so unexpectedly.

Needless to say, I'm glad it's a new week.

Gloomy day

I am in such a funk today. K and I went over to some friends' house last night for dinner. It was delicious, and it was a nice night ... until a little after 11. I was ready to go home, since I wanted to get to bed a little early. I've been exhausted for the last week-plus (lots of traveling and social stuff), so I was excited for an early night. I guess K wasn't on the same page.

By 11, I was telling K I thought we should head home soon. He didn't agree. I reminded him that we all had work today, but he acted surprised that I'd even want to go home already. I told our friends to kick us out if they were ready for bed. I hoped they would say something, but they didn't. At 11:15, I curled up and went to sleep on their couch (which I often do at this couple's house, because everyone always winds up either staying up until 3 a.m. on weekends playing board game after card game, or they play video games, which I find extremely boring to watch).

Shortly before midnight, K woke me up to tell me we were headed home. I was annoyed. I wanted to be in my bed, with brushed teeth and washed face, asleep. When we got outside, I asked why we'd stayed so late. I told K it was rude that we had stayed so late. K said, "We stay at the bar until after midnight after kickball!"

"A bar is a business. That's why it's open. Their home is not a business." Seriously, this couple eats dinner at 5 most nights. I know they go to bed earlier than we do.

I was frustrated, annoyed, and half-asleep. I was cussing, but not speaking much differently than K and I usually do. But for some reason, K got mad. When we got in my car, K refused to drive home. He said I was being bitchy and ridiculous. I told him I was being completely rational. Finally, I said, "Put the f*ing car in drive and go!"

K refused. He demanded I stop "talking to [him]" that way. I wasn't cussing at him or calling him names, and frankly, I didn't cuss until I met him. I got it from him. I didn't know why he was suddenly bent out of shape. He still refused to move the car. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. I told him if he didn't drive, I was walking home. He still didn't move.

I had two choices: 1) punch him in the face, or 2) walk home. These friends only live about a mile from our house, so I went with option 2. With every step, I felt angrier and angrier.

He eventually started the car, and he pulled into the next neighborhood and waited for me. When I got in, he was driving like a jerk, peeling out, slamming on the brakes at the stoplight, and almost squealing the tires on turns. He tends to drive like that when he's annoyed and driving my car. I told him to stop, but he didn't.

"Why do you always drive my car like a jerk when you're mad?! I don't do that to yours!"

K's response: "Well, if your car wasn't such a piece of shit, I wouldn't."


"Oh, I'm sorry I couldn't get deployed, come home, and buy a car straight off the lot!" was my response.

I can't believe he said that about my car. It's a 2003 Honda Accord. It's a nice car, and I actually get compliments on it. People always think it's much newer. It's in great condition, and it has all the upgrades offered on that car. It even has heated seats (which K's car doesn't have). I love my car. (My favorite part is that it's paid off. And I bought it myself.)

When we got home, K slept on the couch, which is what I had planned to do. There was no way I could fall asleep in the same bed as that guy. We ignored each other as we got ready for work this morning, until K came up to me right before he left for work, kissed me on the forehead, and said mechanically, "Have a good day." (We usually give each other a hug and a kiss before we leave.)

I'm still really upset about the whole thing, and I think he owes me an apology. I still don't think I was out of line in the least (getting out of the car may have been a little dramatic, but seriously, K was NOT going to  move it anytime soon).

And now this couple has emailed today to see if we want to go out for dinner. Frankly, I don't want to do anything with anybody.

I want to go home, I want to clean house a little bit, and I want to go to bed. Like by 10 p.m.

Today is not my favorite.

Pardon my cattiness, but ...

... I'm fucking brilliant.

I love photography. Love. It. In a perfect world, I would get paid to travel the world and take photos of beautiful landscape, and thousands of people would buy my pictures. I'd be "Ansela Adams," as a friend once (overgraciously) called me.

But the little secret I love most about landscape photography: As beautiful and sentimental as I find the photos I take on our travels, the thing about landscape photography is that I really didn't do anything. God did all the creating; I just do the capturing. If I just get a good angle or an artistic focus with the right composition, all of a sudden I look like a photographic genius.

Food photography, on the other hand? That's tough.

I was recently asked to help out with some food photography. As in, BE a food photographer. For menus. And ads. And a website.

Whoa. (I seriously instantly thought of L and GFF. They're both constantly posting mouth-watering pictures of fabulous food. If those were my pictures, I'd have felt a little more confident.)

I was honored and excited, but nervous. I mean, I've always taken photos for myself. If someone else likes them, perfect. If not, it doesn't matter. But this time, if I screwed up, I'd be costing someone else money and time because there would have to be a do-over. And given the people who were asking this of me, a do-over would not be awesome.

Without going into too much detail, because of other conflicts, someone else wound up doing the photo shoot. I went along, though, for another purpose, and I ultimately played backup photographer.

Today, I saw my photos and the primary photographer's photos. I got some pretty decent ones, but I was anxious to see the primary's images.  I don't mean to brag, but

MINE WERE TOTALLY BETTER!!!

Like, heads and tails better. Like, right thing in focus and perfect amount of sharpness on the main dish, with perfect blur on side dishes.

Who's ready for dinner?

I AM, after looking at these pictures!

I know it sounds mean and bitchy and catty and ugly, but I was just excited for my own little victory. For thinking I couldn't do it and for totally kicking ass.

I love photography.

A different kind of productivity than I'd hoped for

Things I need to do tonight:

• Fold laundry
• Go to Target and/or ULTA
• Go grocery shopping so friend staying at our house this weekend has food to eat
• Go to the gym and/or run
• Cook something of nutritional value for dinner
• Pack for North Carolina
• Figure out what I'm wearing to this weekend's concert
• Paint fingernails
• Go to bed early

Things I will actually be doing tonight (with K's help): 

• Get groceries for tonight's dinner
• Make rush dinner of no nutritional value (enchilada casserole & tacos) for unknown number of people
• Hurriedly tidy up (vacuum, clear off mail from dining room table)
• Host unknown number of people for spontaneous kickball Cinco de Mayo party at our house
• Stuff my face (again) with unhealthy garbage and wash it all down with beer 

Camping with my kickballers

Last night I was finally able to stay up long enough to finish editing all my camping pictures (camping is fun, but exhausting!). We only had to travel an hour to get to this campsite, but thanks to beautiful scenery, the two tunnels, and 18-mile bridge (actually, there were 3 tunnels, now that I think about it, but the tunnel to VAB is one we're used to taking), it felt like we had escaped somewhere much farther from home.

That gap in the road isn't a real-life Speed moment. It's a tunnel!

Loooooong, straight (that'swhatshesaid) bridge.

I don't know what this is, but I thought it was pretty. I guess it's a non-lighthouse? (Or is it?)

Setting up camp.

The neat bridge just a few yards away from us that led to the beach. 

Someone told us these were there to help create reefs. Whatever their purpose, they were pretty neat to look at.

Can you believe this sky?!

Poor little blue crab. :(  Further down this beach, there were tons of seashells.

K pretending to catch our food for the day.

There were antics ...

... and there was a lot of recycling.

Happy campers (Sorry, couldn't resist!).

We are so doing that again someday.

Weight on my shoulders

I am getting closer and closer each day to saying f* this place with my job.

I don't know specifically what it is, but I hate it. I really do. And it feels good to say it: I hate it.

I feel kind of lied to. I'm doing mundane shit that wasn't part of my initial job description.
I feel like communication blows. Too many people ask me to do things, and my boss isn't looped in.
I feel mistreated. My boss often given projects that have been let almost reach a deadline ... and with little to no direction or details on what has been done to that point.
I feel stressed. Not completely sure why, but it's always there.
I feel unhappy. Because I just don't want to be here.
I feel unsure. Because I think quitting would be the easy way out. The irresponsible thing to do.
I feel stuck. What would I do without a job? Be worthless. Watch TV. Waste away.
I feel ungrateful. So many people need jobs, want jobs ... and here I am bitching about mine.
I feel lazy. Am I just trying to get out of doing work I don't want to do?
I feel dishonest. I'm pretty unproductive at work a lot of times. It's frustration, exhaustion, and annoyance at processes. And sometimes when I try to be productive, I hit walls because of processes.
I feel selfish. Everyone has parts of their job they don't like or don't want to do.
I feel arrogant. Do I think I'm above some of these tasks? Everyone would love to have the mundane work taken out of their jobs.
I feel immature. Because I want a 9-5, non-weekend job that doesn't interfere with time with K and friends.

A lot of my dissatisfaction deals with my work environment. A lot of it deals with the work itself. A lot of it deals with my boss and that  leadership style.

I do enjoy some of what I do. I sometimes get excited about the work we do here.
This place and this work will look good on my resume.
Unfortunately, there are little to no journalism options in this area.
And K will be working down the street from me in months. That could be awesome. Maybe we could carpool.

For those last few reasons, I will stay. I will tough it out a little longer. I will ignore the stress. I will pretend I like being here.

But every day, I get more and more tempted to just tell my boss it's not working.

Dinner date

K and I had a dinner date tonight! We went to the Ch@mberlin, a beautiful restaurant on historic Fort M.onroe that we've wanted to visit for a while. Thanks to a Liv!ng Soc!al coupon that I bought months ago (and that expired -- you guessed it! -- today), we finally did. It was fantastic!

(Sorry the color is weird on these pictures. I'm too exhausted from camping this weekend -- more on that later -- to worry about it much right now.)

Fried shrimp battered in rice krispies. Surprisingly, unbelievably delicious!

K ordered duck. Also yummy.

My view at dinner

Beautiful restaurant! (Mondays aren't their busy night.)

The Chamberlin is actually a historic hotel. It kind of reminded me of The Shining.

The view outside the restaurant. You might recognize this shot from my run photos a few weeks ago.

Beautiful view off the balcony.

For a couple who doesn't really do date night often, this was a great choice!