The One Where I Get All Braggy That I Met BeckEye (So There!)

Last Friday Scope, Wednesday and I hopped in the car and headed for the airport. Where were we flying? Nowhere, silly! We were picking up BeckEye, who was coming into Chicago to do St. Patrick-y thingies for the weekend.

Scope had met BeckEye once before over the summer. I had missed out on that meeting back then because I was still stuck in Seattle. My move was delayed a month and a half and, thus, I missed out on meeting BeckEye.

(And, frankly, I’ve been bitter ever since.)

(Grrrr.)

But all that pain was extinguished Friday when we met BeckEye at the airport. I met BeckEye! I met BeckEye!! I MET BECKEYE!!!! YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Ooh. Ooh!!—and there’s more! Not only did we meet her at the airport, we took her out to dinner too!….




BeckEye is exactly as I’ve always imagined her: witty, smart, and totally spectacular! Of course, we spent a lot of time discussing this year’s American Idol contestants. And Paul McDonald’s scary too-white teeth….




*shudder*

BeckEye had brought me the CD I won in her Big Wicked Online Pageant, but—d’oh!—then we forgot all about it again and accidentally left it in her suitcase, so I’m still Big Wicked Online Pageant Prize CD-less. But oh well. No biggie. I shared a big pretzel with her and, please, everybody knows big pretzels are even better than CDs. So, y’know, obviously my life is pretty much complete now. So, that’s good.

*happy sigh*

After dinner we took BeckEye to her friend’s house and headed back home. Then Saturday morning, Scope, Wednesday and I got up early and headed downtown for the big St. Patrick’s Day celebration. First we went to the Chicago River to watch them dye the river green [LINK]. Before the dyeing process commenced, the river looked like this….



Then they started pouring in the dye, which they spread throughout the river by driving a little speed boat around in it….




And when they were done, the river looked like this….




Pretty awesome, huh?! I know!

We attempted to watch the parade, but the crowd was so mammoth that we couldn’t even see it….



….so, instead, we saw festive stuff like this….



….and this….



….and this….



We even stopped in at Fannie May for some uber yummy sugary goodness….



But as much as I love that delicious chocolaty picture up there, my favorite picture from the whole day is this one….



Awwwwwwwwwwww.

Well, it was a long day and we were all a wee bit tired when we got home. But some of us were more tired than others….



*snicker*

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY, BLOG WORLD!!!!

© Coracabana

Skinny

Personally I think people of all different sizes can look fantastic. There’s no prerequisite that someone need fit in a certain size pants to be beautiful, handsome or sexy. In fact, often I think the heavier version of someone is far more attractive than his or her thinner version. Like Carrie Underwood. Or Victoria Beckham.

I know I often pout and whine on and on about the 15 or so pounds I’ve put on in the last two years (I’m going to go right ahead and blame that on the fact that I eat REAL dinners now, instead of cups of applesauce and saltine crackers like I used to on that old single mom’s budget of mine) but, really, I’m okay with it. They’re just thighs. Okay, they might be bigger thighs than they used to be, but it’s not the end of the universe. Mostly.

And I still have great hair, dammit!

Some women put a ridiculous amount of pressure on themselves to be skinny. They’re brutal. It’s almost like they think they’re worth nothing if they aren’t a size 0. (Or maybe it’s exactly like that, I dunno.) They take their “thin-spiration” waaaaaayyyyyyy too far down a very dark, dangerous (and hungry!!!!) road.

I know a woman who has been anorexic for 40 years. Let’s call her Joann. Joann is very blunt about her anorexia. She talks about it totally openly. She’s not shy about it at all. She flat out tells me, “I’m anorexic,” rather than making up some cutsie nickname for it, like ‘Ana’ or ‘Rexy’ to make it sound less horrible.

Joann and I have had several conversations about her anorexia over the 12 years I’ve known her. When she talks about it, she acts like it’s impressive or an achievement. She’s actually kind of proud of having starved herself for 40 years. I’ve never understood it.

According to her it started when she was a teenager. Most of her family members were overweight and she became determined to escape the “fat gene,” so she started restricting herself to only one “meal” a day (usually something junk food-y like a few onion rings or a piece of pie) and nourished herself the rest of the day on a strict diet of Pepsi, coffee, beer and cigarettes.

That’s what she has survived on for 40 very hungry years.

Her weight has fluctuated a lot. At one point she was down to a frightening, skeletal 70-something pounds. She never really has much energy and she looks a lot older than she actually is.

Or was.

Joann died last night from cancer. Even with multiple surgeries and chemotherapy, the cancer ran rampant within her because her body was too weak and malnourished from 40 years of starving to fight. There was nothing more the doctors could do.

Joann was in her 50’s. She leaves behind a son, three grandkids she will never get to see grow up (one who is less than a year old and will have no memories of her), a house full of cats, and a big mess for her grieving son to deal with…. and all because she wanted to be skinny.

To everybody out there who is unhappy with their body, can you do me a big favor today? Embrace your curves, your thunder thighs, your beer belly, your badonkadonk butt, your double chin, or whatever body part is ticking you off! Love those imperfect parts even if it’s just for today, because there are far, far worse things than extra pounds.

Definitely.

I think Joann got that in the end. I heard that her last request in the hospital was to pig out on ice cream. I don’t know if that is funny or really sad. It makes me feel both things at once, honestly.

I know this song has nothing to do with death (more likely a fight) (or drugs) but it always kinda reminds me of troubled souls being set free. I imagine Joann drifted away across the universe last night and is in heaven right now where she can eat all the ice cream she wants to without fear or guilt or worry. Joann, this one is for you….

© Coracabana

Want!

No, not the car. The song. I just LOVE this song. Wouldn’t that be FANTASTIC on a treadmill walk? Oh baby! Unfortunately, after searching and searching to find out whose song it is so I could pick up their CD, I was forced to admit defeat.

:-(

Turns out the song is Audi’s, created solely for their commercials. Well, poo. It still rocks though. Quick - let's play it again!!!!

© Coracabana

Lego Mini Fig Masterpiece Theater Presents: The Job Hunt

Welcome to Lego Mini Fig Masterpiece Theater where today’s tale will be reenacted for you by Lego Mini Figures. Duh.

Playing the role of me will be Hermione. (Of course)….




Playing the role of my hubba hubba hubby, Scope, will be the scantily clad Spartan Dude. (*wolf whistle*)….




And playing the part of our daughter, Gwen, will be the Vampire with the Baywatch Babe’s hair. (Trust me, it would make sense if you knew her)….




Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand now on with our show:



Before I moved to Chicago I worked as a nanny….




….for six whole nose-wiping, Dr. Seuss-reading, Pokémon-watching, play-doh-covered, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious-filled years! But I’ve had a mini-van load of other jobs too, including eBay seller, portrait photographer, payroll administrator, window advertisement painter, and retail slave.

When I announced I was moving, everyone kept asking me what sort of job I would do once I got settled in my new life with Scope 2000 miles away.




I honestly didn’t know. I viewed the whole new job/new city/new life thing as something really freeing, y’know. I was all like, “I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m sure that absolutely ANYTHING is possible! Wheeeeee!”




*le uber-positive-thinking sigh*

Scope and I had a deal….




….that I wouldn’t bother getting a job here until January because I needed to learn my way around the city and feel at home and things like that, so for my first few months here I was jobless for the first time in a long, lonnnnngggggg time. And, I must admit, it was a nice change going from being the only contributing adult in my often stressed out single-parent life to being a non-contributing, stress-free slacker.




Temporarily, of course.

At the beginning of January, as was our agreement, I started my hunt for a new job. I figured it wouldn’t be hard finding something that would work with my daughter’s school schedule here in this huge, sprawling city—pfffft, no sweat, right? I mean, heck, I’ll take a retail job if I have to (at least until something more exciting comes along), I’m not that picky, so job offers will be just popping out of the ground like daisies at my feet.

Clearly.

Yeah.

But….

It’s been two months and the reality of the job hunt has been a little different than I envisioned. Basically, it has looked pretty much like this:




















It’s not that I’m unhirable or a loser or that Chicago hates me or anything like that (I hope!!!!), it’s just that there are NO jobs available. Friends and family and even the school crossing guard keep asking me if I’m working yet and I feel like a lowly stink bug having to confess the ugly truth: nope.


Scope keeps telling me it’s okay….




….but I don’t always feel it’s okay, because it’s NOT okay, okay? Sometimes I feel content and like things will fall in place when the time is right. Other times I feel….














I try to make up for the fact that Chicago is either a jobless wasteland or just doesn’t want me (*sniffle*) by being fanatical about doing the dishes and the laundry while Scope is at work and Gwen is at school. Because clean dishes and clean clothes make everything better, dammit. And those days when providing clean dinner wear and underwear for my beloved, hard-working family just doesn’t feel like enough, I bake cornbread too, because nothing seems to thrill my loved ones more than coming home to fresh baked cornbread.




These are my contributions and my skillz, people. Mm-hmm. And I guess Scope is right, it’s okay. Kinda. For now. However, if I have to admit to ONE more person that I’m STILL unemployed, I’m SOOOOO going to go hide and cry in the closet and never, ever come out! And since it’s dark in that closet and there’s no Cold Stone in there, that’s no good at all. So, I’ve decided enough is enough, I’m taking matters into my own hands: I’m hiring myself.

Uh-huh.

As of right now, I have decided that I am an eBay Seller once again. Yep. And, okay, maybe I don’t have anything to sell yet because I got rid of everything I didn’t want anymore when I moved over the summer and I shouldn’t really call myself a seller if I’m not selling anything because that makes no sense, blah, blah, blah, but those are just little details that will work themselves out sooner or later. Little details. Very small. Microscopic. No big deal.

The point is that the next time someone asks me if I’m working yet, I can hold my head up high and say, “uh-huh” rather than staring at the floor in shame. And while I’ll still be out there looking for a regular kind of job with a regular paycheck, I’ll also be looking for things to sell because, darn it all, I’m an eBay seller, and that’s what I do, so there! Ebay has been very good to me in the past, so I see no reason why it won’t be now. I’m back, baby!

I’M BACK!!

I’m employed. Employed by ME. And that feels pretty good.




Now if I can just scrounge up something to sell…. hmmmmm....

© Coracabana