equilibrium-girl.com

Disaster!

My 2 frozen raspberry pies are dual disasters. I'd sent Conan to the store to get Oreo cookie pie crust. Note to grocery store clerks: It is NOT IN THE FROZEN FOOD section, okay? It's comprised of crumbs of FULLY BAKED OREO COOKIES, and not frozen dough. My husband came home with frozen pie crusts that I needed to bake...and then cool. They came out of the oven when I'd blended the cold filling, which I couldn't do except put in the refrigerator. Since it has Jell0 in it, it set and now I've got two pies in my freezer filled with lumpy raspberry mess.

I guess it's not that bad. Tomorrow I'll cover the tops with raspberries so that people can't see that it's lumpy. I guess a pie crust is okay, but the Oreo cookie crust really goes so well with the blended raspberry filling. I am really trying not to be mad at my husband--he made an honest mistake, but when you've got to work a full workday before an evening cookout and don't have any time to re-create it, you show up at your friend's doorstep with lumpy frozen pie in one hand and a healthy dose of chagrin in the other.

Spinnin' Around

I love my gym to pieces. There is always a treadmill or elliptical machine open, the classes are great, and there's even rock climbing and an indoor pool. However, I wasn't prepared for the entire "spin thing."

I've never taken a spin class, but my sister the exercise fiend loves it. Since my left ACL is reconstructed and my right one has some meniscus issues, I've been trying to cut down my running (which oddly I've started to enjoy) and other high-impact. I went to my gym this morning for a 9 a.m. class, only to find out that it had already been packed since 20 minutes beforehand. Some people were there at 8:15 to lay claim to a bike, even. The instructor suggested an intro class, but there's only one and it takes place during prime work hours. If I took it I'd be at work by 11 a.m.

I ended up taking a really good dance/aerobics class that I took two weeks ago, but due to my utter rejection this morning, I'm now dead set on a spin class. Funny how getting utterly embarassed in a room full of people does that to you.

Sellout

As of 11 a.m. this fine Sunday morning, I'm a total sellout.

See this is what happens when your company gives you a free shuffle. You say to yourself, "it can't hurt to download the one or two songs on i_Tunes that I haven't already ripped."

And so it began. To date, I've purchased at least $100 worth of songs, and I've found myself in the position of having to remove songs from my itty bitty Shuffle to make room for new purchases.

"I don't want a used Black one," I pouted matter-of-factly to Conan as I shoved my hands into my plush velour robe's pockets this morning, as he dutifully checked the cra1gslist postings.

Then, I dropped the coup de grace: "At least it's not a new purse."

Huh.

We might be the trailer trash of the neighborhood.

My car just ended up in the lawn across the street.

Conan always told me to park my car in gear, because in the event that the parking brake either fails or is not fully engaged, the gear will "catch" the car. However, I feel so unbalanced if I don't shift to neutral, simply because the gear isn't in the middle.

I will learn to park in gear going forward.

Feels Like Home...Again

The movers have come and gone, depositing in our new garage box upon box filled with a mishmash of clothes, books, and other things we'd stored away and did without for the past couple of weeks--or longer in the case of items that were packed away for storage in order to prepare for showing our Virginia house. At first, it was sort of like Christmas, only the items were not brand new. I don't think The Governor has opened a couple of boxes of toys, and the day when his toy trucks that are used to unearth dirt is probably going to be a momentuous occasion in the grand scheme of things.

The sun dances across my wood floors in my morning kitchen, and while it's filled with scraps of paper, wiring, and dirty dishes, it's still beautiful to me. I enjoy the feel of the wood against the soles of my bare feet and I love the sounds of my footfalls as I root around my kitchen for a mug for coffee. I'm thinking this is a sign that I'm...home.

Move Around

Nothing like sitting in your unfinished basement on a can of concrete compound, tapping away at your husband's laptop. Of course, you know the very first thing installed in our new house had to be the cable setup (including modem). Conan's upstairs, running cable through the walls to his office, and soon we're going to hopefully have wireless access. I can sit on my bed and tap away on my own laptop, so if you see entries with long strings of gobbledy-gook or a succession of /////////////////////////////, you'll know that I typed myself to sleep. Which should of course be no surprise.

The house is great. It's totally messy right now since the movers came yesterday evening. I've got pots and pans everywhere in the kitchen, clothes on our floor, and absolutely nada in my kitchen pantry. But that's okay, because eventually things will migrate on their own to where they need to be, right?

More stuff to like...

Not a big animal print person in general, but for some reason the bandipur small eley is strangely beckoning me.

It's striking enough to add just enough punch to an otherwise all-black outfit (of which I have many, many).

THB, we are moving to the Great Midwest to my company's main headquarters so that I can be closer to my team and my client base...not to mention lower cost of living and less traffic congestion. Looking forward to it, but a little scared. More to come on the moving experience...

Lush-a-mush

I have an admission to make.

For all of the organic, good-for-you ingredients, I just can't get hyper-obsessed about Lush. Everything smells great, feels good, smells terrific, and I do have my favorites, but I just don't feel the I-gotta-have-it obsession.

You know what it is? It's the price point. When Lush used to be only in Canada, I bought stuff online and happily clicked through the sites UI, thinking that the prices were going to be converted to U.S. dollars before getting charged to my credit card. Maybe I always bought more than I remembered, but I have some doubts as to whether or not the currency conversion took place.

However, there is a Lush shop in the D_C area, so I've been able to stop by whenever I can find a parking spot in Ge0rget0wn. And I still think stuff is too pricey. I have reservations about paying $4.00 for a single purpose bath bomb. I feel a pang in my stomach when I fork over $22.50 for 17 ounces of my favorite shampoo from there. I know the ingredients are first rate and either safe synthetic or natural/organic, but in comparison to all of the other things I could by with the money (ink pads in gorgeous colors for $5, sterling silver wire, gemstone beads), I can never purchase without feeling bad because a part of me thinks it's too much money. Maybe I'm stingy, but that feeling ruins the purchase experience for me-and consequently it ends up not being so much fun.

Different Color Whips, I Got Many

The Gov. and I are both excited about Cars. It was originally supposed to hit theaters in November of last year, but was delayed for seven months. Among the many reasons for our personal excitement:

a. Lightning McQueen is voiced by Owen Wilson.
b. The Magliozzi brothers/Click and Clack from Car Talk, Tony Shaloub, and racing industry mainstays Paul Newman, Richard Petty, and Darrell Waltrip are also in it.
c. Sally, Lightning's beloved, is a Porsche.
d. All four of the trailers are clever both in execution and inference.
e. Hey, it's Pixar.
f. It looks really good.

What's in Your Bag?

I did the "what's in my bag" flickr meme, even though it's probably been around for a long time. It was linked from the front page of Kate Spade online.

Click here for full description via notes.

The One In Which She Talks The Talk, But...

The "do something nice for yourself" thing ended up being the purchase of a cashmere elbow-length, fitted Theory turtleneck at a really great price ($50). I'll have to craft up a cute pair of earrings to go with...probably simple pearl drops.

I've been in a "window shopping" mood lately, content to look and not particularly gung-ho over the prospect of forking over think plastic with raised numbers. I can't put my finger on it. If you're at my house, sitting at my computer and happen to go to the Fire Mountain website, you'll see I've put three strands of gemstones into my Shopping Cart, all of which go really well with my existing inventory (or with each other for that matter). I'm sure I'll get around to purchasing them-I'm just hesitant and gun-shy about a lot of things. Is it work? The crappy weather? Just plain frayed nerves? The non-working sink in my cluttered kitchen? I can't really tell.

The one in which she links to something quintessential

This would be a great gift for someone who is moving away from NYC. I always had one of those in my hand the summer I spent there. I would exit the 6 and head to my little breakfast deli and score a Greek cup of coffee and an egg and cheese bagel. Good times.

Cute & Drives a Nice Car

Whoa!! Someone got Dan Wheldon a stylist. Could go a little easier on the hair styling products, but this is a definite improvement over before.

Ah, but look at Helio. Aside from being a 2-time Indy 500 winner, doesn't he make your heart go pitter pat?

Years go by, I'm looking through a girlie magazine

Conan came into our room last night. I had the covers up to my neck, and was browsing my latest stash of housewear pr0nn.

He lifts up the covers, sees me in my undies, and states so matter-of-factly, "ah, mast3rb@-ting to the latest Crate & Barrel catalog, I see."

This man, he knows me well.

(note that I changed certain words to try and keep the pr0n spambots away, seeing as I got pummeled with comment spam within 5 hours of posting this. It probably won't work.)

In Dem Jeans

Nobody told me that Old Navy Stretch Cords were ass pants. Don't get me wrong, they're really cute. But I'm not making the mistake of trying to juggle watching 2 kids (The Gov and his friend that we were helping to watch) and finding a cold weather pants solution that I could wear equally to work and on weekends ever again. Ix-nay on the office part of the solution. I did buy them one size too big and promptly hemmed them up. I figure when I don't have client meetings and it gets cold, they'll be good Friday pants.

And yeah, my ass does look kinda a nice in them.

I Had to

I had this semi-extensive entry that bemoaned the lack of cute black professional handbags. I was working on it semi-dutifully, set to publish it so that it could meet & greet the rest of the internet.

And then...I had to send myself to the nearest shopping locale so that I could pick up a couple of gifts for my brother's birthday.

I had to park my car at the entrance of the certain department store whose name starts with an "N."

I had to pick the particular entrance that happens to be the one closest to the handbags section.

I had to to take a detour through that section.

I had to look at black handbags that I really shouldn't have been looking at, because we had given Conan's cousin some money (see below).

I had to find one that I really, really loved.

And after agonizing over it while I traversed the entire length of the mall...

I had to buy it.

Contents

Every morning I stand before a gaping chasm of mystery, waiting the right answer to come forth. It's not like the question I'm transmitting in my mind to that large dark hole is that profound of a metaphysical question. I'm certainly not trying to solve the mystery of cold fusion, nor am I attempting to determine whether dead weight loss actually exists. The request is really a selfish one, for it is really all about me.

I can stand in front of my closet for as long as ten (10) minutes, waiting for the right skirt or pants to catch my eye and select itself as part of my outfit for that day. I've engaged in serious negotations from time to time with a silk, patterned skirt or chalk striped black bootcut pant, even to go so far as to slip it on, analyze fit in front of my mirror with my brow furrowed. I do this because I lack a certain level of objectivity, and to this day no one has proferred a "best practices" set of guidelines against which to benchmark correct ass fit.

It's particularly important these days. Having switched jobs recently, I no longer work with just attorneys and accompanying assistants and other support staff. That means the mean level of co-worker attractiveness has increased.

And once again, it's high school and I'm that introverted little girl feeling confused and awkward--and I just want to fit in. Only this time, I'm not just surrounded by seas of blonde hair, pink seashell-colored lipstick, and cattiness--there are even more beautiful women than I would probably ever encounter in the small Midwestern city in which I grew up.

And so I've filled my closets over time with black bootcut pants, black 3/4-length sleeve tops, and high-heeled sandals. Mostly, they are designer items purchased at outlets (b3be, Banana Repugnant, B_CBG). They have been agonized over in ill-lighted store dressing rooms. I have bought coordinating K@te Sp@de bags in neutral colors and made my own from vintage reproduction fabric ordered online to match. Really, I should just stand in front of my closet each morning and ask the following of it: May I have my self-esteem back?.

The closet always remains silent, for it wasn't to blame for the loss of self-image in the first place. So what can it really say? How can the self-esteem that eroded over the course of 3 years of working with a catty, snide co-worker and petty boss have washed along into my closet, ready to be reassembled and worn again? How can years of having fault found with my sentence structure (and not legal analysis--which I find to be quizzical) be erased? How can my level of dissatisfaction with my post-pregnancy be reversed? Can you do anything with the inherent questions that stem from growing up Asian in a Midwestern town? Or will I always feel twelve years old, waiting for that next boy to put his fingers on the outer edges of his eyes and draw them outwards?

But the closet can't answer those questions, so it--along with my chock-full makeup bag and handmade jewelry--provides me with substitutes. I get a certain sense of self-satisfaction when pulling on a pair of kitten-heeled slides with subtle bows on the top. I admire the fact that the trendy puffed-sleeve top makes my once-muscular arms look a bit toned. At the last minute, I switch purses to a rust-colored hobo that I found in the dark, slightly dusty corner on the third shelf. It fits my two cell phones, makeup bag, and 3 pens (all different, yet all necessary). And always, a chunky gemstone bracelet with a smooth sterling silver clasp. Throughout the day, I will twist the gemstones around as I sit through conference call after conference call, my machinations becoming the most intense when I frame a statement in my mind that then travels out my mouth, through landlines, and into the ears of others.

I realize there isn't anything that can really substitute for self-image, but my closet helps get me along my way as I work throughout the day to rebuild it. A phone call in which I stand my ground and require the client to jump through necessary hoops. A presentation, at the end of which the agency provides their gratitude. And finally, at the end of the day--and after the most intense negotiation in which I have partcipated--the thirty kisses that my son requires before he agrees to go to bed.

I get ready to sleep. I leave my closet doors open, for it doesn't make sense to close them. I turn out the bedroom light. As the light from the airport runway 2 miles away radiates through my curtains, I see the dark, large rectangle hole in my wall--like a mouth, framing answers to the questions I have in my head.

What She's Doing on Sunday Nights

It's okay that no one else in my e-World watches The Contender and can rejoice with me in the fact that there are 4 semi-finalists to be happy about. The problem is that you can only be both happy and sad at the outcome of each match from here on...with the exception of the "fan favorite," since we don't know who actually will be chosen.

I was happy that Jesse won last night, primarily because I do like having such dead sexy eye candy gracing my TV screen on Sunday evenings. Those of you in the know will realize that he bears a certain resemblance to a certain person, and that my appreciation is somewhat sentimental. But he does bring the hot to the show, and for that we are ever so grateful. Particularly if the hot man in question loves his family.

My favorite part of the show last night: when he was clutching his little girl's tiara in his gloves when he walked out after being introduced, and then handed her little crown to her. Everyone say "awwww!" with me.

Not so great: the tightey whiteys of his that seem to be all over the Y@h00 extra footage. Get this man some boxer briefs, people.

My second favorite moment in last night's show was Alfonso was dancing in the gym. Not a fan of the sunglasses-in-pictures look, but if you click around the site, you will fine that the boy is button-cute, with a great story and a personality. I like this one, he makes me smile. Let's go salsa dancing, kid!

Conan's favorite is Peter, (or "Pee-TAH," as he calls himself). Conan likes that he is humble and low key. He also thinks Peter's wife is hot (she is), and that their daughter is cute (ditto).

I think that Sergio is great, but more importantly, he has good taste in women seeing as his very-pretty girlfriend is a law student. And we do enjoy his informed commentary.

Last night's episode was the usual good fare. I'm not sure if it's the editing, but Anthony's constant "look at me/I'm a dad/I'm doing this for my kids" theme was a little old. Lots of the contestants are fathers, and they are all doing it for their families. But I don't see anyone else toting their pictures of their kids to the press conferences. It's hard to tell from the editing, but he sorta fights dirty and I'm not sure his technique is all that great. His mom rocked, though. I liked her. But I'm glad that Jesse won. So please, if you have any inclination to curl up on Sunday nights and watch a little boxing mixed in with a lot of personal stories, come join me.

Skinny People's Clothes

I don't get bebe. If there was something unique in the styling of the clothes, or if they was something unusual about signature details or if they were made of extremely wonderful fabrics or prints, I could get into it, but so much of it is blah blah blah. And for the parts that are not so utterly boring, you have either: a) be on the "skinny side" or your size, or b) wear all items sans sous-vêtements.

I think the point of the entire line is for people who are lucky enough to wear the clothes, they have the luxury of saying "look at ME! I can fit into skinny people's clothes." Hence, the tiny baby tee that has the logo emblazoned in rhinestones on it. Or the size 2 jacket that my forearms were almost bulging out of. Or those itty bitty bootcut chocolate brown pants that looked great on the rack and fit pretty well, but that I couldn't fathom wearing to work. Of course, that didn't stop me from buying this cute dusty pink tweed box cut skirt that was 15% of the original retail price. But still!

The boys came back from "'Cago'" and while yesterday was fine, this morning was slightly off, what with The Gov. having probably gotten his every wish for two days. He called me "Mr. Mommy" yesterday, and then he said, "I called you that. It's a joke, mommy." But then he said, "I like this food, I like the food you make at home, mommy"--but I think he was just incentivizing the rapid deployment of chocolate crepes with fresh strawberry filling and made-from-scratch chocolate syrup. Kids these days-they are sure attuned to subtle nuances of every kind and manner.

She has an idea

as if you needed another reason to go to the candy store: instead of making a batch of simple syrup for drinks such as mojitos and lemon drops and letting it go bad if you dont use it that often, i found out while staying here that you can serve the drink with a rock candy swizzle stick and the drinker merely stirs the drink with it, sweetening it to taste. oh, and it looks fancy-schmancy at the same time too. i *heart* me a little of that fancy stuff every now and then.

Take Note

I am most definitely getting myself a supermaggie scarf. I've been drooling over the Vertical scarf in Supergirl.

Shopping With the Girl 2

i think that every girl is entitled to at least drool over a new pair of shoes.

or perhaps a spring jacket would brighten your mood, especially if you were to brighten it with a handmade, felted flower.

you could buy a little princess something to store her treasures in.

or why not buy your own red agate beads and string your own pretty bracelet?

Shopping with the Girl 1

Shopping List: sites in my URL history because I’ve been salivating over the goodies:

Posie: Rosie Little Things: The Hand-Embroidered handbags are darling. I still love the Afternoon Delight handbags and the Marguerite handbags to coordinate with the skirts.
Shy Siren: for delicious looking handmade beaded jewelry. I am so intrigued by this blue frosted glass beaded bracelet.
Harveys: for girly-girl clothing. And I’m still waiting for my Cadillac Pink Large Tote Snap Bag, thankyouverymuch.
Prints at Neiman Marcus: I love the dresses here, but I also love this Laundry by Shelli Segal dress.
Carrie Mader jewelry: total inspiration. I’m in love with the Midori necklace and the Riley bracelet.
Kate: I can’t stay away, even though my grey Italian nylon bag has missing stitches. And how did she know that I would love the dragonflies so much?