Porcelain Goddess

I learned something Friday night.

No matter how germ-phobic you are, when you're tossing your cookies it doesn't matter one bit what you're kneeling on or touching. Those were my thoughts last night as my friend's toilet and I became acquainted. There's no way to keep your dignity while you're barfing up draft beer.

Actually my dignity was lost sometime earlier in the night, but I refuse to apologize about that. There is no way for me to stop myself once I get into one of my drunk moods. Most people I know have had the uncomfortable pleasure of being trapped into a conversation with me that's heavy on the personal side. And I can't say I'm sorry and it'll never happen again, because I know it will, it's who I am.

Honestly I needed a good drunken up-chuck session. I haven't had one like that since 2001 and the Vodka/Hawaiian Punch incident. I was well over due for a lesson in my alcohol tolerance level.

All in all I think it was a great send off bash for my former co-worker, once she gets over her hangover she's going to have a great time in D-town.

Confessions... IV

I got my hair cut today. I've wanted to get it cut since before I moved to Toledo but:

A) I'm lazy
B) I'm cheap
C) I don't care all that much about my hair.

What finally drove me to do the deed was the constant headache I've had the past few weeks from wearing my hair up. That extra weight had to come off, so I caved and decided to spend the dough on a nice place and get a good haircut (no more Supercuts = a mullet for me.)

I'm not trendy or very good with fashion. Which is why I always feel like a failure after a haircut at a "real" Salon (you know, the ones where they offer you a drink.) It's the same feeling as having your Dentist harping on you about not flossing every time you see him. I always tell the girl (or sometimes guy) cutting my hair that I am LOW maintenance when it comes to hair.

If I wanted, I could trace my lack of hair knowledge back to my mother who never braided my hair or did much besides run a brush through it. Consequently the nifty little hair twist I often wear is actually a huge beauty technique success for me. For most of my life I couldn't even figure out how to make a decant ponytail.

Anyway, despite my insistences that I NEVER use product and don't own a flat iron, I ended up with a very styled, very gooey, very hip hair style. Thankfully I also got a good enough cut so when I wake up tomorrow I won't look like a complete freak after I do my hair.

But this brings to light how exhausting it is for me to live in a world of ever changing fads. Just when I think I've caught up, I pause to take a look around and realize I've fallen way behind again. Today was one of those days.

Back from my hair appointment I felt good, like, "Yes I'm back on track." And then I logged onto MySpace. There I discovered that I am once again so very behind.

It started with a trip to my friend Brandi's page. She's got an ultra cool hair style (she always has a great one.) Now, her hair cut isn't something I could wear, but it made me wonder about how she's always up with the latest fashions. To be honest I feel like a frump next to her wicked style.

Then I hoped over to another friend's page. For some silly reason I though I was familiar with all the hot songs out right now. But nope, the one by Akon playing on her page was new to me. Hell, I still though of JT's Sexyback as being the hip song of the moment, when really it's getting old already. Guess I need to lay off the NPR on the way to work.

Talking to someone last week I ripped on Leggings being back in style, and today my totally cool hair dresser was wearing a pair (and she looked good!)

I just can't keep up, but every six months or so I say to myself, "Get it together girl, you're falling into loser-land again." So I pick myself up, learn a new accessory technique or two, download a few new songs to my IPOD, and try to pass myself off as anything but the dork I truly am.

Only it never lasts, and it wears me out trying to play dress up. So then I sink back into "What the hell do I care what others think of me" mode and get on with my life until the "cool" bug bites me again.

What it ultimately comes back to is epitomized perfectly by one of Weird Al's new songs. I really am just too "White and Nerdy."

Peachy Keen

I meant to post on Friday but I came down with what I'm fairly sure is strep throat and didn't feel like it. But since I'm insurance-less and it'd cost $130 to just SEE a doctor, not to mention any lab tests or perscriptions, I'm gonna wait this one out.

I know it's unbelievably rude of me to not go get treated for a highly contagious sickness, but what can I do. By the time I realized I most likely had strep throat (thanks to a diagnosis for WebMD) I had already spread my germs around and was past the worst of it. Besides, I didn't feel that sick. A scratchy throat and a little tired, but still fuctional.

Only the red blotches on the back of my throat indicate that I'm sicker than I feel.

But back to why I was going to blog on Friday. Friday was September 22nd. Which means it was that in exactly one year I'd be Mrs. JR. YEA!!!

Planning is still at a stand still, but now I feel more motivated to tackle it, once I'm done being sick. In less than a year I'm getting married ^_^*

Flying the Fatty Skies

Quick blog. This morning at work my Producer was going over the guest segments for our show (we usually have 10 to 12 guests on Saturdays for our two-hour morning show.)

Anyway one of the guest segments was promoting a local female gym (mine BTW) and their special "Bridal Bootcamp" to help brides-to-be lose weight. It's a total scam ($500 for two months.) Well today they brought along a girl who is their biggest success. She's lost total 80 pounds in 3 years, going from a size 24 to a 12. Now my Producer, a tiny guy I mistook for a high school freshman when I saw him, says:

"Well, is that really such a success.. I mean a size 12 is still kinda big right?"

Keep in mind that this is also the guy who was appalled to learn that airlines say the average weight of their passengers is 195. In his mind that is mammoth. He figured the average male weight was around 200, so for the average of all people to be nearly that there must be a lot of severly obese flyers.

So I looked at him and thought "this guy must be joking." But nope, to him dropping to a size half as big as you were before isn't a success. He's a nice guy, but not obviously not very with it. To make him uncomfortable I told him I was almost a size twelve..he turned red ^_^*

Take a Picture, it Lasts Longer!

I got hit on leaving the gym today. But wait, it gets better. Since I go to an all female gym It's pretty much a given that I won't have to suffer from "come-ons" (unless a lesbian takes a liking to me.)

Yet today while walking to my car I got the double honk from a guy in a pick-up. Granted my gym is in a strip mall next to a hardware store so guys in pick-ups are common place, and maybe the honk wasn't meant for me, but it threw me off for a second. I shot a mean look in the direction of the guy in the truck, I couldn't see inside because of a glare, then got in my car and left.

The drive back to my apartment is only two miles with maybe four traffic lights in between. Stopped at a main light a battered Jeep pulls up next to me and a greasy Hispanic man sticks his head out the window and gives me the Joey "how you doin'?" look.

Now, nothing against those of Mexican descent since I know plenty who aren't greasy, but I was creeped out by this walking stereotype. For one thing, I had just left the gym. Meaning I had several unattractive things going for me at once.

But apparently this guy didn't mind the sweat stains or what a friend of mine affectionately calls the "mono-boob" (what happens to a woman's chest in a sports bra.) Beyond that he must dig chicks with bits of balled up deodorant under their arms and messy ponytails.

What must have turned him on the most would be my make-up free face which, thanks to my favorite time of the month, has spontaneously erupted in acne and red blotches. To give the guy credit he got about half a second to assess my "fuckability" before getting a good look.

So maybe it was my car. Gee, if the women of the world had any idea that an orange Focus would be the ultimate turn-on for men, Ford wouldn't be in such bad financial trouble. I'm delighted when JR wants to snuggle up to me after I've had a hard sweaty work-out, even if I push him away for his own good. But this guy crossed some sort of line with me.

I don't know why I was so insulted, I've been hit on by much bigger low-lifes in much weirder places. Maybe I was just pissed off that beauty comes at such a high price. People often ask me how I lost so much weight And while I never have the same answer, one thing is always true; it took work, hard awful work. It wasn't fun or easy and I have to fight every freakn' day to maintain.

So being checked out by some yahoo on the street when I look my absolute worst because I'm trying to look good does not impress me. All it proves is that most men are pigs who will screw anything with a vagina (or at least what they think is a vagina.) What's even worse is that I suspect he knew exactly how awful I looked and thought, "Hey look, she must be desperate. Bet she'd have sex with my gross self if I threw her a kernel of attention." Arg... I'm getting tinted windows.

Holy Toledo

You know, Toledo gets a lot of flack for being a bad city. But I've been thinking about it lately and have thought of some pretty neat things about living in Toledo, (or even Ohio,) vs. living in mid-Michigan. Here's a list.

1) Road projects actually get done months ahead of time and under budget.

2) $2.15 a gallon gas (and dropping.)

3) No smoking allowed in restaurants.

4) I saved hundreds of dollars on my car insurance and I didn't have to switch to Geico.

5) No playing Dodgem with pot-holes on the Freeway.

6) If you get a craving for a Subway sub, you'll never have to travel further than a half-mile to get one.

7) Bars in 30% of strip malls.

8) Can't legally go faster than 65 mph anywhere in the State.

9) Strip Clubs that double as sports bars (with occasional outdoor BBQ's.)

10) Living in Toledo I have a better chance of seeing local native Katie Holmes' baby Suri, then her parents do.

11) If I wanted Crack or Hookers I could pick some up on the way to work.

12) All the "high" class Republicans.

13) Not having to cover non-fatal shootings or house fires unless it's a slow news day.

14) Toledo was once called "The Black Swamp," if that's not proof of it's greatness I don't know what is.

All right, so the tone of this blog took an unexpected downward spiral at the end there. Maybe the reason I don't think Toledo's all that bad, is because it actually used to be a part of Michigan.

Yup, that is a true fact. In 1835 the Michigan/Ohio war began. It was brief and the only injury was a bar-fight stabbing, but in the end Michigan lost Toledo. As a compromise they were given the final third of what we now call the U.P.

History rocks!

So there you have it. Next time you hear someone from Michigan spouting off about how terrible Toledo is, just remember that Toledoans are really just Michigan POWs.

Everyone needs a little change.

Today marks the two month anniversary of my new job in Toledo. It's also a special day for me because of what I did this morning.

When I left Lansing at the end of June, I was also leaving behind the job title of photographer. I truly believed I would never pick up a news camera again. I'm happy to say I was wrong.

I was filling in today for a girl at our station who doesn't have an exact job title. She just kinda does whatever needs to be done. That I was even asked to fill in for her is a big deal. It shows a level a trust by my boss that I hadn't expected for at least a few more months. On top of that, no other PA has even been asked to take over her duties.

One of the duties I did today was shoot the live weather shots outside our station. Not really a big deal but it made me feel good. After explaining to several people that "yes I have done this before," I was left alone. The weather hits were simple but I'm told I did them much better than the person who usually does them (i.e. they were in focus, the right color, and bright enough-- tough I know.)

Either I've lost significant muscle in my arms, or the cameras at my new station are much heavier. I choose to believe they're heavier because otherwise I'm a super wimp who can barely lift a thirty pound camera to my shoulder.

I also got to edit a little, which is also something that the girl I filled in for can't do. Not that I had much success. The system they use is bad.... really bad. And slow and stupid, and even if an editor position at my station opened up I doubt I'd take it because their system is worse then editing tape-to-tape.

The one thing I kinda liked that I had never done before was producing. Ok, actually I only produced the cut-ins, (meaning I dumped previous scripts into a rundown and attached video,) the radio scripts (arg, what a pain in the ass those were,) and the newsticker (hope I didn't have any spelling errors.) It was scary/exciting.

I played it cool, but in my head I was like "Oh my god, you're actually going to trust me with writing something for the anchors to read...live?" I did good (again meaning no one noticed a difference,) even if it was difficult to do my job when I have absolutely no power. As a lowly PA I don't have computer access to a lot of the things I needed, printers for one.

It was a learning experience and I kinda enjoyed it. I'm still at bit baffled as to why I was entrusted with such "important" duties, but I don't mind if they have me fill in more often.
On a final note. Once people discovered that I had once been a photog (I've mentioned it a hundred times) they were quick to point out that there are several positions open. On one hand it would make great financial sense for me to jump back into my camera-toting ways.

But standing outside the station at five o'clock this morning in downtown Toledo I saw several bums walk by and was taunted by drivers on the road..... yeah, so not gonna roam around the city alone everyday with a piece of equipment worth more than my car.

So PA Sassy I will remain. Who knows, maybe this is the start of a path towards Producing....'k most likely not, but still I can dream.