Dream On

For some reason, I just remembered one of my dreams from last night. I rarely remember my dreams so I figure I'd better keep track of them when I do. In it, Greg Evigan (perhaps best known to my generation for his starring role in My Two Dads, although he is equally well-known for BJ and the Bear) and Heather Locklear (no explanation necessary) were trying to decapitate me with razor wire. I woke up from that dream, went to relieve myself, and promptly fell back asleep, only to wake up again an hour or so later (again to relieve myself. My fellow tiny-bladdered folks can relate) after having another dream in which, interestingly enough, once again, someone was trying to kill me. I don't recall who or how but the theme most definitely continued. Ponder this, won't you?

Happy Schmalentine's Day!

Yeah, I'm about 20 minutes late, go figure. Let me mention that I am not, have never been and will never be a particular fan of Valentine's Day. To those who are not in a relationship, it's sort of a bold-faced, all-in-caps reminder of that fact. To those who are, it's a pressure-inducing, Hallmark holiday that mostly serves to sell you insane amounts of stuff you either don't need or cannot afford. I am a happily married woman but the pressure gets to me and causes me more stress on this day than I should allow. Honestly, shouldn't we just celebrate love EVERY day? But, despite all this, I'm allowing myself this brief interruption in my usual cynicism and snark to post this picture that can't help but make me smile. For whatever it's worth, for whatever this day does or does not mean to you, Ralph Wiggum is fabulous. Love and hugs and mushy stuff to all.

I'm So Ronery

Just putting this out there, it really SUCKS living so far away from your true friends. Don't get me wrong, I have one friend, one of my closest, living just two doors down and I am SO grateful for that, but aside from her, I do not have one single friend in the state in which I live. I've always been the "quality, not quantity" type when it comes to friends and I have always said that if I can count my true friends one one hand, I'd consider myself very lucky. I can definitely do that and again, I'm very grateful. However, sometimes knowing that someone is just a phone call (or, more likely, as I am not a fan of the phone, a facebook message) away is just not enough. No matter what anyone tells you, there is nothing like hearing your friend's voice and seeing her face as the words fall from her lips. There is nothing that takes the place of shared laughter, especially when it's followed by a big happy smile or, even better, a hug. Aside from my husband, our two cats, and the aforementioned one great friend, I am alone here and I've got to tell you, it sucks. I know that I am at a distinct disadvantage with regard to making friends here. I am not currently working. Hell, I don't volunteer, take a class, or do anything else that would allow me the opportunity to make new friends. The extent of my social life is limited, primarily, to facebook and though I do not underestimate or discount the importance of the deep, true, lasting friendships that facebook has allowed me to find, grow and maintain, again, it's not the same as face to face contact. I want to go out with friends on a shopping trip, to share a meal, to see a movie, you know, all the things that are fun to do with your spouse or alone or with your one close (in distance) girlfriend but are sometimes even more fun with a couple of friends or, dare I say it, a group. Moving back to New York is not the answer, though I do have several friends who live there. I want to have that same experience here in Florida. "Well Kari" you might say, "why don't you get off your ass and do something that might allow you to make friends?" My simple reply is "I'm trying." When you suffer from clinical depression, as I do, can't, for the life of you, find a job, and have pretty much lost your will to do more than maybe brush your teeth and get dressed on any given day, it makes that quite difficult. It's frustrating too because I HAVE amazing friends. I know that if not for the geographic distance, we would spend time together doing all of the fun things that friends do. I am 37 years old. It's really hard putting yourself out there when you already have the friends you want, albeit too far away. It's really hard putting yourself out there, period. I just don't know if I have the strength to do it again. I envy people who live their whole lives in the same place. Though my hometown is not necessarily where I'd have wanted to spend my entire life, there is something to be said for the comforts of home. Florida has never been, and will never be, "home" for me. I don't quite know where home is but I hope someday to find it. I hope someday to feel comfortable enough with myself that these things won't be a problem anymore. I hope. I guess that's something.

Going on a Bit of a Rant Here...

...but seriously, I am MORE than sick of society's "stick-thin" standard of beauty for women. Sure, things are "getting better" (allegedly). After all, women with a little bit of "junk in the trunk" like Kim Kardashian are more than accepted as models of beauty. (Of course, if they don't have the hour-glass figure to go with that bit of booty, the magazines speculate on why they're not thinner.) But come on, enough is enough. Why can't we see more "real" women in the media? I just watched the commercial for Pajama Jeans (which, if you're not acquainted, are basically soft fleece on the inside and stretchy "denim" on the outside). They bragged about having sizes to fit all women, from petite to plus-size, yet there is not a single woman in the ad that is more than, I'd predict, a size 6. There sure as hell aren't any "plus-size" women in this ad. As if there isn't enough to worry about in life, now I need to worry that I'm too fat for Pajama Jeans? Who decides what's "too fat" anyway, a bunch of male executives and size 0 models? Why do we continue to allow those people to control our self-images? Actually, I can only speak for myself. Why do I allow them to control my self-image? Stupid fucking pants. :(

Good Mornin'...Good Mooooorrrrnin'

Yes, kids, it is currently 2:21 pm EST and I've been up for about 20 minutes. This is the life when you are unemployed, childless and lost in America. Not much reason to stumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen (though I could, perhaps, use Dolly's proverbial "cup of ambition") or to attempt sleep any earlier than 4:00 am-ish when you have no particular reason to get out of bed. While this thought often makes me feel rather poky and melancholy, it doesn't particularly bother me today. Sure, Brian hit me with the fact that we have a few additional bills to pay today that were not expected to arrive so soon, sure I had to dip into my dwindling savings account to get them paid, but the fact is, I'm handling things quite well today, especially for me. Sure there was the sharp intake of breath, the instant fear that is always attached to such occasions, but then, for the first time in a long time, I exhaled. I simply wrote the check, accepted that these things happen in life, despite one's best intentions (or, in this case, my husband's best intentions) and went on with my day. My day is actually going well enough that the lovely Debbie Reynolds' happy voice entered my mind (p.s., my mom woke me up by singing the title of this thread for MANY years and I had NO idea until just last year that the song came from the brilliant film, "Singin' in the Rain" - thanks, Paula!) Imagine that!

New Leaf Turning?

So, I had a thought. Perhaps the world won't spontaneously combust based simply on the fact that I may express an idea or emotion that isn't as "angsty" as the ones I typically share. This blog doesn't just have to be a den of doom, though I must admit that is the predominant emotional state I find myself in, more often than not. I have a damn good sense of humor, damn it, and quite the taste for quirky and surreal moments. So yeah, I'm thinking that perhaps I will try to post a bit more when I'm actually feeling decent, for a change. Fancy that!

So, on that note, here is the manicure I applied last night. Zoya, a rather independent nail polish company, ran a facebook promo last month which allowed fans, using a promo code provided, to choose three of their polishes (regularly priced at $7.00 each) and receive them for FREE, only paying the $6.95 cost of shipping. I was referred to this site by a friend sometime in November or December, in anticipation of this promotion (they had to have a certain number of fans by a certain date as a condition of their activating the code). During the course of the past month I spent a LOT of time on the Zoya facebook page, viewing pics and reading posts that have taught me a LOT about nail polish. I've picked up techniques and terms that I had never heard of before. I do tend to have a bit of a "hoarding" mentality. I packrat like crazy and when I get into a new hobby, I do it to DEATH, so I'm trying really hard not to let this new-found obsession with nail polish go to the extreme. Not long before the Zoya thing, I threw away almost all of my polishes (they were quite old and I wasn't using them) so I figured this gave me carte blanche to start buying new ones. However, my collection has quickly grown from the about ten polishes I had to at least twenty-five thanks to my six new Zoyas (I got three and Brian got three), several Pure Ice, NYC and Wet n Wild ones I've bought and several gifted to me by the same friend who encouraged me to fan the Zoya page (so sweet, right?) I bought one Sally Hansen last night (I had seen it swatched online and thought it was quite similar to a Zoya polish I have on my wishlist - yes, I actually have a Word file which is my typed up polish wishlist, see what I mean? - and at only $2.00 it seemed a fair compromise) but now I really REALLY need to slow my roll and enjoy the ones I have instead of hoarding more. Number one, I just can't afford to do it. Even 99 cent and $2.00 polishes add up. Number two, it's just not healthy for me. I have countless scrapbooking items, dozens of Sanrio goodies and so much miscellaneous whatnot overwhelming this tiny apartment (not to mention my bedroom at Mom's house. Oh, the Beanie Babies alone.) that I need to nip this in the bud before it becomes typical of me. Nevertheless, about that photo (I haven't forgotten), I'll post it now. I'm having a lot of fun with this new polish thing and thought I'd share a bit of the joy.



If I'm not mistaken in my newly-learned polish terminology, this is a skittled manicure. (Skittling, as I know it, simply means using more than one polish color at a time.) I used one of my new Zoyas, Adina, on my middle finger and pinky (and thumb, though it's not pictured) and alternated with Wet n Wild's Gray's Anatomy on my pointer and ring fingers. Adina was two coats and Gray's was three coats. These colors looked quite similar in the bottle, though Adina looked more purple, but as you can see, on nails they appear quite different. I'll probably end up using the Gray's mostly for layering as I tend to not be a great fan of sheer polishes.

Anywho, look at me, being all light-hearted and fun n' stuff. Bet you didn't think I had it in me. To borrow from Shrek, Kari has many layers, like an onion or a even a parfait.