The great shopping sojourn ends Blonde Energy.

It was a cold and all around blechy Saturday, the kind of day only suitable for roaming the mall, eating too many carbs and spending more money than one should with an impending move--especially when it was money not spent on move-related expenses. Though, one may argue that Victoria Secret (VS, here on out) purchases are, in deed, necessary for one to move... as is a large, seemingly purposeless green box 4 times the size of the bottle of Covet that comes with it in a special, exclusive Macy's deal. Of course, I got the lime green box and the little goodies that came with it--why wouldn't I? And yes, I admit, I am shamelessly inspired by certain celebrities.... and Sarah Jessica Parker is one of them. So when she release a new scent, with a fabulously charming advertising campaign--I had to covet it. Was that an obvious pun?

VS, on the other hand, was a huge hassle. I know my bra size there--it's quite consistent from style to style, which is good because if there is anything more that I hate to try on outside of jeans, it is bras. I'm also pretty much stick to Body by Victoria for everyday bras. They are comfortable, classic but pretty and if I forget to change into a sports bra, don't kill me on a work out. Upon getting over to the section that carries the unlined version of the Body by Victoria I quickly learned that this "new" release is new in that they no longer make it in my size. That must have left a big WTF on my forehead because the salesgirl came running over (ok, admittedly, you can't walk through VS without being barraged by salesgirls, especially when you walk in braless!!). She explained that no, the 34B was no longer being made in this style, but I could get the padded or the pushup in that size, or I could get the cotton style (not Body by Victoria). I decided to try, after much conversing, the cotton in my size, and a 36B in the one that I wanted.

So, here I am, in the VS fitting room, which, if you have never been, is always an experience. The cotton one, of course fit, but I didn't want a 100% cotton bra... I have one, I almost never wear it. The 36B was too big, so I asked for a 34C... taking a chance, yes, but I really needed to replace some bras and I was determined to do it on this trip... without padding or push up involved. Here comes the salesgirl back, with a 34C in a push up demi. There is more padding in this bra than what I'm trying to corral with the garmet and so I send her back to get the right style. Fortunately, if I latched the 34C one eyehook tighter, it works perfectly, and I can say, for one instance, I'm a C cup without padding or inserts. It's very exciting.

And I don't know if it was the shopping trip in general, the need to feel daring and do something to shake up my life... but I leave you with this thought: I finished the day up at Target buying Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches (which I don't suffer illness from like I do most all other ice cream) and a bottle of hair dye. For the first time in perhaps forever, I am not a blonde. At all.

Tuna, the Tasty Treat

This morning found me at Beaner's struggling to push open a door that was only to be opened by pulling... tis a sad thing the DTs of caffeine. But, I made it in, and then out again with a coffee and bagel, then it was to farmer's market where I purchased some cucumbers, carrots, cabbage and a cookie.... which reminds me, I still have half a cookie I should remove from my bag... but I digress. Upon getting home (after a side trip to Bed, Bath and Annoying Salespeople Beyond) I made myself a huge salad which I topped with cucumbers, tomatoes, almonds and tuna. Since I cannot eat a whole can of tuna and never seem to use the remaining contents before they get yucky, I often give half to me, and half to the cats. Today was no exception.

And, as I sit here picking at what is left of my salad, I am amused to watch the boys roll into the living room, fresh from the feast and clean themselves for a good 30 minutes--as if they plunked into the water, pulled the fish from its very depths, dismantled it fin to gill and had a tasty lunch. In their minds, I guess, they simply did not stroll up to a plate and eat tuna, it probably was the result of the hunt. Now, they are all stretched out like gumby kitties in various positions, purring and obviously clean.

Where time ends...

Looking back, it's hard to believe that it has been over a week now since I've posted. Surely, there have been many a thing happening worthy of mention... but I forget all the relevant items. Mom came into town on Wednesday, which really explains where I have been; there has not been a whole lot of time to really sit down and write anything... we went shopping, to the Art Fair, cooked, went out for dinner, went to Monroe, watched a movie, moved a loveseat and table out to the trash, visited my garden, Farmers Market and generally just visited. It was a nice time and since she left this morning, I've gardened, did 5K worth of speed walking and very little jogging, made my 500th trip to Target, baked and cleaned. Now, I'm tired.

In the last week, I also started physical therapy. Seems that strained hip from the Avon 2-Day walk has not gotten any better. And I am really beginning to question a form of medical intervention that causes more pain. Thursday was my third session, and I left in some amount of aggitation to the afflicted area. By 5 p.m. I was physically ill from pain. I downed a few Tylenol and did some stretching, then went out for a walk with mom. I was sleeping by 730 on the floor and in bed by 830.

PT also provides you with exercises to do daily. What they fail to understand, no matter how much I tell them, is that this isn't new to me. The name for it might not be the same as what I call it, but once I learned what they wanted me to do, it was a no brainer. Try to do 2 sets of 10 they said, and if you can, do 30 total. I did 50 and still had no difficulty, no tiring, nothing they said would be an indicator to stop. Thursday, she said, OK I want you to walk at a normal pace on the treadmill for 5-10 minutes... no incline. Do at least 5, but 10 if you can handle it. I truly do not think they understand that despite this injury, I am very active and I am very good at not letting myself feel the pain. I've explained this in a few different ways. I've explained that I have spent the last 2 years training for marathon distance walks plus and have had personal trainers at least once a year to consult with and that I work out sometimes hours at a time... and they just nod and say yeah, okay, so can you walk at least 10 minutes a day? Very frustrating.

Aside from that bit of aggravation that will continue for at least the next 3 weeks; I did manage to splurge and buy myself a very sweet Wonder Woman purse at the Art Fair. Basically it is a box with handles and has vintage images of Wonder Woman from comics, promos featuring Lynda Carter, and other paraphenilia. A bit pricey, but entirely worth it.

On that note, I shall return later... possibly even this evening. In the meantime, I have yet to eat lunch and it is coming on dinner time.

Irreverent musings on a summer day

Earlier today, while driving, I had a brilliant diatribe for this space... it always happens when driving--I become absolutely a brilliant composer in my head, and by the time I park, take care of everything and have a few minutes... it is GONE. Well, not the fiction--not usually, just my thoughts on life, because they are oft fleeting and typically not worthy of notation; but I'm fairly certain that I probably had the key to something like the fountain of youth and it is forever lost in the dire need to stop off for vegetables and eggs. And if any of you try to tell me that a healthy diet is the key to that fountain... there might be an accident.

Of one thing I can assure you, cats are not the key to living a youthful existence sometimes. Bowie has spent the last several minutes crying like he's dying... and you know why? He is afraid of his reflection in the mirror. I remove him from the bathroom counter and he's back up there, screaming bloody murder. He is a fierce and mighty jungle beast instill fear into the hearts of those in his path, and that includes him.

To counter Bowie, I turned up the speakers on my iPod... yegods, if the neighbors don't already hate me they now have Bon Jovi at arena level decibels. At least I'm not nekkid... at least, not anymore, earlier on the patio might have been another story... and I wouldn't say nekkid as much as I would say topless... there is a subtle difference.

And now, the crisis of dinner... I have stuff to make, I even found some relatively exciting and new recipes; I did go grocery shopping last night and to farmers market this afternoon... but the crisis is not what to make, but IF to make... Lately, I don't want dinner; I'm hungry, but all I really want is copious amounts of Diet Coke or Diet Mountain Dew. I am willing to fore go food for this all driving want. I know it is bad, I know I should cook something healthy and eat and forget the soda, but I am thinking, I will be in the drive thru getting a soda, or at the 7-11 and not eating dinner again tonight. It makes me worry, one of the memories very strong for me is of my grandma--who rarely ate anything beyond a donut and the rest of her day was spent consuming coffee and cigarettes and a pace I've yet to see paralleled. I don't intend on taking up smoking, but I swear, there are some days I would just not eat and would drink coffee or soda all day so I wouldn't have to bother... that is, of course, if you threw in a few jelly candies or a cookie... I'm not a donut girl.

On that note, today is the kinda day that after sitting out on the patio reading a Shape magazine, one should go and wash one's car--and get a soda.

Mahalo.

Pink Ice

So, there I was today, in a store, shopping for life's necessities when I was deterred by the aisle containing the nail polish. It seems, recently, I'm much happier when I have nicely lacquered nails... probably related to my MLC... but nonetheless, I purchased two very fine bottles of polish, making 4 bottles this week alone.

Now to provide some relevance into why I needed the fourth bottle (as if the third bottle was not obvious--I didn't have silver, duh!): Several weeks ago, I started writing a new series of chapters for what may turn into a small book, tentatively titled Pink Ice. Our main character finds herself in the midst career boredom and a bottle of nail polish triggers a series of events that comprise the storyline. The polish is a silver pink and thusly called Pink Ice... today's 4th bottle of polish was a nice silvery pink, and it was called Pink Ice... fortuitous, no?

As you can image, I was terribly excited and felt that I needed to have that as a token to my story. When inspiration comes at $2 a bottle, you really don't pass it up. Especially when you consider that the polish gracing my nails currently runs upward of $8 a bottle and is called "deeply in love" a sentiment that neither describes me or the color very accurately... Pink Ice seems a little more apropos.

And a few comments on my outing tonight... first, it was Top of the Park for a salsa dancing lesson and listening to the Cuban music that followed (oh and there were some awesome white man dances going on to that Cuban rythym, I do have to say). It became overly crowded and I could no longer handle getting pushed in the crowd for no other reason that people are rude. A cappucino from Beaners (take that Starbucks)... and I was off to Meijer... and let me just say, screaming children do not belong in a grocery store after 9... they are tired, let them sleep and not scream for 20 minutes in the meat department. If you pre-teen falls because he isn't skilled with his stupid roller shoes, yelling at him probably won't help and only makes you look like an ass. Finally, and I can't stress this enough, showering is essentially everyday... and if you think you might not pass--take a second one before you enter a grocery store--or any establishment for that matter. Just sayin'.

Pink Ice, signing out.

Simply Shoes

This morning the email that most women wait for appeared in my inbox... DSWs Summer Sale began today. More shoes were slashed to 80% off, triple points for members today... a shoe extravagnza!! OR so they want you to believe.

Don't get me wrong, I left with a new pair of shoes, but I have to comment on a few things.

1. Designers need to stop trying to mimic the "Glass" slipper. The poly-plastic-crap used to make them are sticky and look good are almost no one when the feet start to swell and appear like sausage in a casing.

2. Adding large plastic globs that looks like the Goody hair twisties when I was 5 to the thong on a pair of sandals does not make them worth an extra $25.

3. Just because the shoes were $80 and are now only $8 does not mean that you should buy them if they aren't really want you wanted. If you don't like wedges, ladies, you will not like them any better only paying $8.

Again, today, I wandered the aisles of DSW thinking that, for the most part, the shoes were plain and unoriginal. There was a pair of Chinese Laundry that I loved, but they didn't have them in my size. Instead, I kept coming back to these dark red K-Swiss shoes... so when I came back to them a fourth time, I decided to get them... and my size was not there. I tried them on in a half size smaller than my usual, and they were a great fit.

Shoes represent who we are; they are part of oue essential personality... shoes matter. I just wonder what it says about me that I'm suddenly bored by the "usual faire." And tonight, while IM'ing with a friend about mid-life crises (MLC), I wondered if that might be part of it. An early MLC... And I decided in our conversation that a MLC Checklist was in order... so here it is:

__ Buy a very expensive article of clothing (or two).

__ Have a fling with a 20-something.

__ Experiement with hair color.

__ Join a community garden.

__ Ravage your closets to throw out anything that is remotely useless.

__ Begin dancing to your iPod in the weight room of your gym while waiting on a machine.

__ Download to your iPod those songs that remind you of the ::Glory Days:: (bonus if you download Glory Days).

Ok, what am I missing here?

A change of color

Blonde Energy comes to you a little less pink today--I let the nail tech choose my toe color yesterday, and she opted for silver. It is fabulous. And, in the spirit of some change, I picked up a bottle of Aruba Blue by Essie... not my usual OPI product, but I liked the name of the Essie color better. And isn't that the key to picking a nail polish? And so, now my fingers are blue tipped--and for a change, not because I'm cold.

I did make myself go to DSW after the pedicure, and while I purchased nothing, I realized that not wanting to shoe shop is more a reflection on the utter unoriginality with which the shoes produced en masse represent. It's almost like buying 3 prints for $40 when nothing is as satisfying as the $3.1 million dollar original. The shoes I envision in my head don't exist... and right now they would be the only satisfaction I would recieve... the rest are empty calories.

So a new week has begun, and I am without plans on this very gorgeous sunny day. I'd like to see Oceans 13, but why? It is too nice outside to have to freeze to death in a movie theatre. Same goes with shopping. I've love to go to the mall and find a flirty new sundress, but again, inside is not what I'm shooting for... so I think the day will find me picking up a few items to do some cooking and mostly sitting out on my patio, working on some writing. Perhaps I will venture out for a walk later or even a coffee... but mostly, it is a lazy Sunday with sunshine, and it just seems kinda nice.

Mahalo.

Saturday Miscellany

Apparently, the lack of sleep caught up to me last night and nailed me. It seems that my mom called at some point, and while I remember talking to her, I have not a clue about what. All I do remember is that when I got up from the chair to go into my bed somewhere in the area of midnight, Bowie had been stalking and hunting a moth. This is big excitement in the life of a housecat... so you can imagine his utter disappointment that I was not about to have his trophy buried in the blanket next to my head and tossed it to the floor. Yes, it was his blanket, but overall it is my bed.

But I awoke this morning, feeling quite good and appalled that it was only 6 a.m. So I went back to bed, if not to sleep and laid there thinking for about an hour and a half. I've had a really good bout of feeling down this week... and nothing really seems to be helping to pull myself out of this funk. I tried shopping today, but I'm feeling like a balloon right from the Macy's parade. I don't even feel like shoe shopping these days.

I'd love it if the girls all got together and hung out at an outside patio at some bar... just hang out and chat and talk and all that shit like we used to... but so many have moved, or moved on, or I have moved on. I miss it right now. I think since I'm moving some feel like I'm already gone and have just annexed me out--like it is a personal affront to our friendship that I am leaving the area. Someone pointed out to me today that I need to reread Women Who Run With the Wolves and not worry about it... that many of my local friendships currently exist not because I share a lot of common interests, but because they have always been there... and I will find my "urban tribe" when I seek out and away where it will be easier because I will have no other options.

In the meantime, I really want a pedicure, so I think I will treat myself and go out for one. It will go nice with the tattoo appointment I have for Tuesday--if I am going to be drawing attention to my feet with an ankle band tat, best that they don't look like I've spent hours in the garden over the last few days!

On the Road: NYC

It felt good to be back there after five years. My visit may have only been a very brief few hours, but I managed to visit two friends that were not department stores and more than a couple shopping favorites to purchase a few dresses and tops. The trip took me to an old area of Brooklyn I haven't been in nearly 10 years... and a lot of memories as I walked the sidewalk of 7th Avenue in Park Slope.

I had parked in Newark and decided to take the PATH into the city. It is actually less expensive and far more convenient a timesaver. Of course, it is cramming oneself on a train with many, many others for whom deoderant is optional. Still, a much nicer journey. The PATH train destination was the World Trade Center... there was an audible gasp from several on the train who apparently didn't understand what a stop at the World Trade Center station would mean--in that the train platform ends inside the former WTC and you see the very large hole that is left and the workers there within. I did know this, but even I have to admit, it is quite a sight coming out of the darkness of the tunnel into the brightness of the hole. I only decided on the WTC stop, rather than midtown as Century 21 is right there, and there is some good shopping there.

What is interesting, is that I write this, I am listening to an interview with Salman Rushdie and having just finished Infidel by Ayann Hirsi Ali over the weekend, in retrospect, thinking about the gaping hole that still remains, not just in south Manhattan, but in so many lives. Maybe it is best left as a hole--an irreparable scar on the face of the earth.

Anyway, the trip found me in Times Square. And, as I informed Kevyn, if there is only one person on the face of the earth that could get me to willingly go, without complaint, to Times Square, it is him. He laughed and assured me that he, too, hates Times Square. This I knew. We both hated it when I lived there oh so many years ago. But, as the Conde Nast office is located there, so was he. I joined him on a commute to Chelsea as he went to a meeting with his new employer and I did some shopping and lunch.

The rest of the day was spent with my friend in Brooklyn... before heading back on the train, to the PATH to my car in Newark... then it was on the way to the Catskills.

On the Road: District of Columbia, pt. 2

Sunday morning, somewhere about 5 a.m. tents started rustling and walkers and crew were coming alive in the VERY crisp Maryland morning. We had camped the night at Sligo Middle School in pop tents that were very close together so once one person decided to get up, it quickly spurred the entire soccer field housing us.

The route opened at 7:30; however, it was nearly 8:30 before I and most of my team hit the 13.1 mile route back to the Kennedy Center. Body stiffness and cold quickly left and the day turned out to be bright and sunny. Along the route, I met so many people and shared the last 5-6 miles into the Kennedy Center with a couple of first time walkers who actually walked the same pace as I did... we lamented that we didn't meet up the day before. We three arrived at the Kennedy Center just after 12:30... doing the "Rocky Run" up the stairs. You would think that after all that running a flight of stairs would be impossible, but it wasn't--it was liberating and triumphant. There was music, dancing, and quite possibly the most significant feature--a real bathroom!!

I ended up leaving the Kennedy Center just after 1 p.m. Closing ceremonies were not until 3:30 and I very much needed to KEEP MOVING. So I headed back toward the Metro to Arlington with my gear bag and picked up my car and headed to my hotel for the night. I got another much needed shower after an incident at the hotel in getting a shower curtain in my room (seems housekeeping forgot to reinstall one).

After the shower, I headed over to Pentagon City--which I learned was, in fact, a shopping center (and was nearby my hotel). I was meeting a friend for dinner and needed to keep moving as I was very stiff and sore. I walked around until it was time for dinner... the visit was brief, but very nice.

Back at the hotel, I was in bed early... on Monday, I was headed to Tysons Corner before driving up to Baltimore.

I'm not old, just "retro"

Because I have some sense of social decency, I did not proclaim the following things out loud today while out shopping, but MUST get them out before they implode my head.

1. A tunic is not a dress. Nylons are not pants. Please go home and put pants on.

2. OMIGOD I just stepped back to 1980.

Phew! That's better... now I just have to figure out how to stop the scortching of my retinas and life should be good.

Number one, I think, goes without saying... and frankly, I don't feel like reliving it if you can't put it together.

Number two: I went shopping for spring and summer wear today. I walked into H&M, and amazingly it was once I PASSED the Madonna line that things got shady... and frighteningly very "retro." But it was when I stepped into Forever 21 (because they don't make a Forever 29, okay!?) that I was completely horrified. My mother warned me that someday, retro would be what I used to wear... and there it was, the fabulously plastic jewelry, the unflattering shoulder pads, and equally unflattering ribbed waisted shirts with poufy tops and off the shoulder necks. There was a time when oh, I wished I could buy all that wonderful fashion and wear it how it was MEANT to be worn, sadly that was 20 years ago and today, I can afford it, but I simply cannot. The sadness of the moment was not lost on me as I dragged myself into Sears to buy some "classic" summer shirts... my god, am I really this old?

And with the shopping expenditure, I've found that no matter how much I try, I just can't hack going into Ambercrombie and Fitch. I know their pants might have a chance of actually fitting me well... NOONE shopping in there has hips either... okay baby got back and that might pose a problem in A&F but I can't even begin to try. The store reeks of cologne that makes me sneeze and I stepped in, saw the Daisy Duke shirts and turned and walked right back out again. And at least Jessica Simpson made that last reference relevant again, cause I'm guessing Catherine Bach is a reference enjoyed by those who wore one big loopy earring and some leg warmers way back before it was retro. And apparently, leg warmers are now called footless thigh highs... or so said the package in Hot Topic today... Yes, Hot Topic is one more place I'm slowly being edged out of... I mean MY GOD, when did Blondie make a come back? Oh, right, they didn't--they are just fashion fodder. They did make music, do the under 20-somethings know this? Do they learn these things in school?

Pink Bubbles

A friend of mine out west told me about Lush after I had trouble finding the bubble bath I wanted for the last full moon bath. So, a week or so ago, I finally got around to placing a ridiculously expensive order--which is way easy to do as the prices on the higher side--and today I picked up the package from my leasing office where it was left yesterday (even though I was home to accept delivery, but that's for another day).

The very pick up of the package was an event. I was nearly out the door when the man who had been on the phone yelled his devotion for Lush products and shared his favorites with me before proceeding to scream "You have a sex bomb in there don't you? I was smelling your box earlier."
I did not get a sex bomb on this order; however, one of the items I did order was a soap called Rock Star... it is pink, it lathers up pink, it is simply fantastic. One person reviewed that the scent was similar to cotton candy, however I find it a little stronger than that--but still very yummy. I look forward to my next full moon bath Monday evening--which, is so aptly named the Pink Full Moon this time around.

This might be the first Monday I've truly looked forward to in some time.