Monthly Archives: August 2008

What’s Your Number?

A wise friend once told me “Everyone has a number”.

The one that gets under their skin.

For some it repulses, others it infuriates, a few it motivates and for most, it makes them throw in the towel.

It’s different for everyone.

The number that you see when you look down at the scale.

The number of your list of lovers.

The number the label in your jeans reads.

The number the label on your bra does not read.

The number at the bottom of your credit card statement.

The number of candles on your birthday cake.

The number your boss expects you to perform.

The number of dates before your first kiss.

The number of fights before you give up.

The number of times you’ve cried over him.

The number of days it’s been since he’s called.

The number your pay stub reads.

The number of miles you’ll run before you mentally can’t move.

The number on the price tag that makes you put it back on the rack.

The number on the price tag that makes you not leave without it.

The number that your iTunes reads “your song” on the play count.

The number of drinks you can handle in one evening on the town.

Who knew we were counting? Constantly counting. Watching. Judging ourselves. Judging others. All based on numbers. The numbers fluctuate, some bringing us up as they rise, others bringing us down as they fall.

A few of mine that make me shudder?

101- The number of times I’ve listened to “The Heart of the Matter”. (I didn’t purchase it until June 4, 2008). *Too high.

26- The number of candles on my cake last month. (Where did all my time go? I feel like I’ve only just begun.)

99- The number I start counting backwards from when I’m trying to sleep at night.

7 million- My quota. (Sadly unattainable this year)

38- Days left to try to achieve this number.

Unmentionable- The number on my Nordstrom Bill. (I guess Sale doesn’t really mean buy more.) *Repulsive.

Also unmentionable- The number on my jeans. (They’re still a bit tight! Eek!) *Motivation to make me run.

Lost count- The number of times he made me cry. *Even more reasons I’m glad I’ve moved on.

290- Not a number to chance it on.

So I have to wonder…what’s your number?

Holly’s Inbox

I get about a bizillion emails a day. Between work, bbm (blackberry messenger- like a text but longer and no charge), personal, myspace, facebook…ok you get the point. I get a ton. But I don’t get nearly as many interesting emails as Holly Denham.

To say you don’t have the desire to snoop through someones inbox is like saying you’re not dying to know what’s in wrapped Christmas presents sitting under the tree. It’s an inevitable pull urging you into the unknown.

I must admit, I once snooped through an ex’s inbox and found trouble (he was a pig)…I always tell my friends, if you feel the need to snoop you must not be with a trustworthy person. But the trouble that Holly has is fun, witty and contagious. I find myself wanting to tell people to bugger off and sign off all emails to friends with x’s. (I guess in the UK they only x, not o…I like the o’s too, but a cute x is a fun touch).

The entire novel is written as emails. I thought it was someone’s actual inbox, but have since found out that it’s fictional. An adorable concept that started as an online novel, has been a hit in the UK for the past year. I’m so lucky to have Sarah B. working in London, at Boarders no less, to keep me up on all the newest UK book trends.

But the trouble now is that I have to wait until I see Sarah at Thanksgiving to get my copy of Holly’s Inbox: Scandal in the City.

Who’s inbox would you peek into if you could?

xxxx

Filter

I started blogging just over a year ago when my life was taking a big transition. There weren’t very many people reading my blog at all. Not friends, not strangers, no one in the blog world. I got a comment about once every fifth post, and I about wet my pants at the thought that someone cared about what I had to say.

I let a few of my friends and family in so that they could be a part of my daily thoughts and keep up with me.

As I started to find other friends that blog, I was introduced to a few other twenty something women bloggers and I saw how they were really able to express their feelings, stories and daily lives. Once I started writing, my fingers became my heartstrings and I found a peacefulness in expressing myself through words. I wasn’t writing for anyone but me. I didn’t find the need to be anonymous, because I had nothing to hide.

Then more and more people I knew found my blog and I felt a pressure to write to please. My posts started to offend, hurt or question my feelings and decisions.

And now I feel like I constantly have to filter…

Filter stories about boys, so that I don’t get 100 text the next day asking me who the mystery man is or why I haven’t forgot about him.

Filter my wild weekend stories, so my mom won’t call me and ask if I feel that it’s appropriate to be acting this way.

Filter the hurt I feel when a friend lets me down, so that they don’t get upset for me publishing our business on the Internet.

Filter that I miss the idea of him, so that those close to me will think that I haven’t let go.

Filter my fears of security in my professional and personal life, for fear that writing them means that I’m admitting to my own fears.

I feel like I have so much to say that I’m bursting at the seams and I’m not going to be able to get it all out without a total meltdown. Perhaps that’s where I am now…

Is anyone else feeling this way? I know I can’t be the only one.

I tried to make it cute…

but I ruined my blog and I can’t fix it.

I hate blogger.

Thinking of switching to wordpress.

Thoughts?

HELP!!!

First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage…

Then all my married friends get cute baby bumps.
*Not always in said order.

Card by Made By Girl (of course).

Just as wedding season is starting to die down, more and more of my friends are growing their families (and bellies) with new additions…

Expecting bouncing baby boys are Rachel (sorority sis) and Jenny (college roomie).

Expecting pretty baby girls are Mel (a sorority sis), Mere (it’s her second) and Angie (my Zumba teacher).

The unknown include Michelle (a childhood dance friend) and Maria (who’s trying for her second).

Congrats to Steph, Nissler, Maria, Ali, Michelle, Camps and all of my other high school friends who have popped out children this year.

I saw this pic on one of my friends facebook pages and I thought that it was the cutest baby shower idea ever. Way better than eating baby food…or worse candy bars in diapers.

In case you can’t read the card, it says:
“A note for the new mommy you should write,
to make her smile when she’s changing diapers at night.”

In the basket there are diapers and sharpies!

I’m so excited for all of my friends who are expanding their families… however, it seems like the only thing I’m expanding these days is my shoe collection!

Time Out with the Tarts

PT 1: Look…it’s a cage fighter…just the way you like them!

PT2: You know why I like them…because REAL MEN DON’T TAP OUT!

PT3: No Pop Tart, they just TAP YOU!

PT 1,2, 3: Bahhhhaaaa! * Rolling as PT 3 falls to the floor.

Move Over MP

Dear Michael,

I adore watching you swim. I am impressed every time that you dive into the pool and dominate the competition. I know that you are level headed and dedicated to your sport. Not to mention your body is bangin’.

I can’t take the competition anymore. The medals, the women…it’s just getting to be too much. I can’t handle dating “The Greatest Olympian of All Time”. The pressure is too strong, and I don’t like sharing you with the rest of the World. We have to break up.

I’m moving on in my relationship with Ryan Lochte. He’s not the swimmer you are, but he’s not bad either. He’s actually delicious. I know that there are claims that he’s dating Caroline, but she’s ok with me moving in on her man. She’s so focused on swimming right now, she can’t give him what he needs.

I hope that we can still be friends.
Love,
SJ
XXXO.