I’m having a bit of a style crisis… again. Prompted by back-to-back episodes of TLC’s What Not to Wear (thanks Comcast On-Demand), I was reminded once more of my propensity for lame style. One episode featured this twenty-something lady who, to me, seemed ok. Khaki pants, button-down blue shirt, hair in a bun. Yes, I identified with her somewhat, and naturally, her style didn’t seem that bad. Well, she was deemed “BO-RING”! And that’s when I realized I was her: all solids, all standard colors. The next day, I decided to jazz things up a bit. So I wore a printed spring-ish wrap dress over a ribbed turtleneck, paired with my sheepskins boots. Yes, it was sketchy at best, but I figured it was Friday so anything could pass, right? It was bad news. And I need to invest in a full-length mirror. No, I didn’t pull it off, disappointingly.

So this weekend, Bubbey decided it was time to go shopping. We hit all the big stores on Saturday: Zara, MNG, Old Navy, BR, Gap, American Eagle, J. Crew, Ann Taylor. The result? One purchase. A dress from Ann Taylor. A pretty dress but it’s too big and John says it looks maternity. Ugh.

I had my 3-month performance review last Friday, and like my usual nerdy schoolgirl self, I was a little nervous. But I came out with flying colors. Hee, hee! Even scored several checkmarks in the “exceeds expectations” column. Ok, so to be honest, I was a bit disappointed there weren’t more ticks in that column, but whatever. Room to grow.

Speaking of which, on my weekly call to the fam, dad was happy to hear the news. But then he gave some weird-ass advice, particularly coming from a gung-ho workaholic himself. He said, “You know, first year, you don’t have to give full force. Because then you start off doing really well and when your performance plateaus, you don’t look as good. So maybe first year just give 70%. Then next year 80%, and increase from there.” Say what? I didn’t want to get into another tiff with Squabble Central, so I just “hmmed” my way through that part of the conversation. But wtf? I was offended. I mean, is he saying that just because this is a government job, and he disrespects government such that they don’t deserve to have hardcore workers? Has he just become jaded about the importance and value of work? I never saw him giving just 70%. I mean, Jesus Christ, that’s a C (if we’re putting it into grades that I understand more intimately). Whatever. I was irritated, because for one, I feel that advice isn’t very supportive of how much I love my job and of how much passion I feel for it. Plus, what’s wrong with giving something your all? I mean, as long as it’s not destroying me and turning me into a horrible person, why not give 100% to something I enjoy. Ugh. Anyway, I was annoyed.

And on that pleasant note, the conversation turned even better. “Oh, I wanted to ask you something…” Uh oh. “Johnny is doing much better now”… blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. “Do you think you could spend just a few minutes to talk to him…” Isn’t it enough that I communicated with him during the holidays? At first, it sounded like maybe he was getting back on track, but as our stay progressed, it became extremely apparent to both John and me that in fact, nothing has changed. My family still props him up. The dude misplaced his passport, so who ends up researching how to contact the authorities and how to get it replaced? My mother. Seriously folks. A.B. Duke scholar. Full ride to Duke on merit scholarship. Has his mother researching how to get his passport replaced. Of course he’s to blame. And they are to blame. He’s 33 years old. Grow the fuck up.

Anyway, father asks me, and I respond that I’ll think about it. “You have to think about something that just takes a few minutes to do?” I was pissed. Look, I heard your request, and I’m going to think about it. I should have just said, “If you demand an immediate answer, the answer is no.” Either way, the answer now is no, because this isn’t something that takes just a few minutes. This is a lifetime of pain. This is a lifetime of Little Emperor syndrome, exacerbated by a lifetime of parenting gone wrong. Fuck that. My OCD isn’t so bad that I’d voluntarily subject myself to repeated disappointment. That’s not to say I don’t believe in change. I do, but again, he has no motivation to change when everyone around him feeds him with a silver spoon. And that practice will certainly continue after he moves to Taiwan and is surrounded by my babying family over there. Barren womb forever, I tell you.

God, I’ve been so bad lately about writing. What’s the deal, right? To be honest, for the longest time, I’ve been meaning to update but somehow procrastination had gotten the best of me.

The new year’s kicked off to a decent start. No resolutions list as with last year, but don’t worry, mentally, I have a to do. Always have my to do. I’m thinking get in shape, get back on the Spanish train, kick ass at the job that I love… in general, eat less, move more, learn more, and give more.

My buddy Tina has turned out to be a real blessing. She’s a total trooper… signs up for all the activities I want to do (but Bubbey doesn’t). We’re carpooling, sharing magazines, making dinner, rollerblading… she’s like a sister I never had. Of course, all my dear friends are like sisters but it’s nice because Tina lives five minutes away. So it’s good: we sort of motivate each other to be more active than we would be individually. Plus, John’s been hammered at work lately. I mean, he’s the total superstar (won the company “Hero of 2007” Award) so that’s really awesome, but he works A LOT. I mean, take tonight for example. He got home about an hour later than he said, we ate dinner with his iPhone next to his bowl, and now he’s on a work call. Ahh, such is the life of the workaholic. Who can blame him. I also do some bit of work from home every night. Then again, I’m a wannabe overachiever and well, I love my work, what can I say. A workaholic can’t rag on another workaholic, right?

Speaking more of my work, I had a big presentation Monday to all the managers. Gave a sort of web update. I was all stressed: spent the weekend prior doing my slides, running through my spiel. Thankfully, the meeting went well. This week I’ve been working on some budgeting stuff. Love the responsibilities of this job. I’m learning so much. Totally rocks. Plus, I recently joined NTEN, the Nonprofit Technology Network. They’re having a conference in New Orleans in March, and work might even pay for me to go! How sweet would that be? On my down time, I’ll have to hit up my buddies Brad and Angie. Yup. I’m a celeb gossip freak that way.

Oh, John’s company just released their new 2008 HR policies. Unlimited paid vacation. Can you fucking believe? As long as you get your shit done and the manager approves, you’re home fucking free. Plus, they pay half of your gym membership. Dotcom companies, man. Flush with cash. And they say government benefits are good. My benefits are shit compared to his. Sigh. Oh well, the good thing is that he may go with me to Orleans, so that could be a fun little adventure.

In other news, I climbed back in the saddle last Saturday– first time since before Christmas. I rode Tucker this time— even larger than Hobbs. This horse was so humongous that the top of my head only reached the base of his neck. I know! Massive! And he kicked my bony butt big time. I am so frickin’ bruised. At first, I was having a blast riding him fast around the ring. Then, he started going faster and faster and the next thing I knew, he was cutting the corners and shit. My ass was literally slamming in and out of the saddle. My instructor kept saying slow him down (I had the reins so fucking tight: he didn’t give a damn) and get a deeper seat. I swear, I must’ve looked like a wussy little rag doll getting thrashed about. Fucking horse. But he sure was a looker. I know, I’m such the masochist. He beats me up and I still brush him for an hour afterwards and feed him apples. I hope I get him again this weekend. I’ll so him who’s the boss.

Last weekend John and I also took our bicycles to the shop for brake adjustments. Let me tell you: bike repairs are crazy expensive. $60 to adjust the brakes on both bikes. Wtf? I mean seriously, how does bicycle repair cost more than auto repair? Honestly people. So annoying. But whatev, I was sick of fidgeting with the brakes on my own. At least now we’re set. John and I are going for a spin on Sunday. Can’t wait.

Well Bembo is harassing the shit out of me now. It’s time for their walk. Demanding little brats. But oh so cute. Signing off now. More later.

John and I barely made it to midnight on New Year’s. I’d like to blame it on the jetlag (we flew in late the day before), but more realistically, we’re just old farts. We were going to dig up our 07 resolutions (yes, he forced us to write them down) and see how we did, but someone lost them. Oh well, I think I met a lot of my goals so I’m feeling pretty good about 07. Well except for the year-end extra poundage (speaking of the fat dog). Yup, I think my body was prepping for hibernation or something. Got a little muffin top in time for the holidays. Oh well, reason enough for some new resolutions– healthier meals, more exercise, etc. I recently tried a cherry-glaze lamb chop recipe out of Cooking Light. Pretty good. I think the magazine holds promise.

From my parents’ home in Maryland, I shipped a few more of our things in storage. I brought home a dish set Johnny gave us for our wedding. I know, I’m usually not one for home decorating and such, but the plates are part of this guy’s (William Kimball?) animal collection. So they are a bunch of farm animals. Super cute. And they will work nicely when I have my game nights and parties (I’m such a wannabe socialite).

More importantly, I shipped our two road bikes. I know, seems totally ridiculous to ship bicycles across the country, but my god, bikes are pricey these days. Like $400 each! So I did all my online research and shipping was only $40/bike via FedEx Ground. Granted I spent half a day on this project, retrieving bike boxes, disassembling the bikes with great difficulty (even with the help of my gramps Yeb), boxing, packaging, transporting to FedEx, etc. Yes, it was exhausting but I’m psyched to get them. The packages are slated to arrive tomorrow. I was thinking to just take them to REI for assembly and tune-up, but knowing my cheap-ass self, I’ll probably end up doing it (in our living room)!