La Petite Chic

Toxic

I once read an article in one of my magazines that spoke about toxic friends and why you should get these people out of your life, sooner rather than later.  It explained a toxic friend as a person that you keep in your life because maybe you were friends at some point, but the relationship ultimately turns into an unhealthy one.  Your so-called friend might be so competitive with you that they can't get joy out of your accomplishments, or they might be jealous of you so they feel the need to talk about you behind your back or hurt you in other ways.  That article really spoke to me because I think at some point in your life, everyone has a toxic friend that you just can't seem to let go of because maybe you have really happy memories with that person in the past.  You've got to let go though.

SInce I'm not even referring to any of my own friends, I'll try to explain where I'm coming from without going into too many details.  Since Jon and I started dating, two of his friends have not been the most supportive of our relationship.  As hard as I tried to get them to like me, it seems the more they made me feel like an outsider. It didn't even help that he lived with these two individuals so even all the times I came over to their house, they still didn't warm up to me.  I swear, I tried to learn everything I could about them to try to find some sort of connection.  I would ask them about their jobs, their interests, their girlfriends.  Do you think they ever tried to learn anything about me?  Nope.

Still, I tried. I so wanted them to like me because these guys were Jon's friends and I wanted all of us to be friends.  I baked cupcakes, invited them to parties at my house, but nothing worked.  I asked Jon to talk to them because at that point, I was at my wit's end.  I just could not understand what was wrong with me that they didn't like me and didn't accept me.  I'm a likeable girl!  Their response to Jon made my blood boil.  They told him I was trying too hard.  Unbelievable! 

That's what did it for me.  I threw in the towel and told Jon that was it.  If he wanted to be friends with them fine, but I was so over the hostility and rejection, thank you very much.  I know it was hard for Jon to be in the middle, but it was also really hard for me that he just couldn't see his friends in the same light I did.  He really couldn't believe the way they treated me and so I think he chose to ignore it.  He would always tell me, that's not the "insert name here" I know and it's a problem between the two of you.  Honestly, it really hurt that Jon chose to not take sides with the whole situation, but I can understand where he was coming from and it's not like I was going to ask him to pick sides.  On one hand, there was the girl he was going to marry and on the other hand, here were his two good friends that he grew up with. 

I just figured that we all would have to live with each other whether we liked it or not and I would just try to limit contact with them as much as I could.  Don't get me wrong though, I'm the eternal optimist and still tried with these people when we did see them.  It's not like I was going to be rude so I still went around with a smile on my face and continued asking them all about their lives even though I never got the courtesy "so how are you doing" in return.  I knew that it made Jon happy for me to try, and isn't that what marriage is about?  There are some things you just have to suck up.

Okay, so fast forward to the real heart of this topic which was a wedding for one of those guys this past weekend.  Since I didn't really spare too many details with the first part, this is where I'll have to.  It was Friend #1's wedding which regardless of the situation with him, I wasn't too happy about attending it anyway because two of Jon's ex-girlfriends were going to be there.  Yes, I'm an insecure person, so sue me.  Anyway, things were actually going okay.  I ran into Friend #2's girlfriend on the dance floor (who, by the way, had adopted her boyfriend's attitude towards me the longer they were together) and I was actually talking to her about getting the whole bunch of us together one weekend to go to a festival.  Yes, the thought of me hanging out with all of them killed me but I figured, what the hell, it will only be for a day and I can deal with it. 

Well, out of the blue, the girlfriend totally interrupted me to tell me something nasty about Jon.  Something that I wouldn't want to hear and something that would definitely upset me.  I was shocked.  And pissed.  And hurt.  I quickly removed myself from that situation and found Jon to get the whole story.  I got the whole story, and yes, I was still definitely feeling all of the emotions above.  I'm not going to go into what happened here because it's not really appropriate, but I'll just say that it's nothing terrible or marriage ending...just something that was really really upsetting to me.  Anyway, I kind of hightailed it out of there to stew on my own.  Fast forward to the end of the night...I had the luck of running into Friend #2.  It was obvious that his girlfriend must have told him what she said to me and how upset I was, because he said the most vulgar and inappropriate thing to me that I swear I could have hit him and hit him hard.  ARGH, just thinking about it gets me pissed off all over again. 

Too make a long story short (I'm sorry this turned into a book!), Jon and I had a long talk the next morning and worked everything out with us.  In fact, I suspect it was one of those bumps that you encounter in a relationship that only makes you stronger and brings you closer together.  I can't say the same for Jon's friendships with the guys though.  It took one of them being a complete and total jerk (I'm trying to refrain from calling him an asshole although that word keeps slipping from my mouth) for him to realize how both of them treat me and the disrespect that they show me.  It's been hard for him to see his friends in that light. 

Even though I had a god-awful time at that wedding, it's almost a relief for me that I don't have to try anymore.  That he knows their true colors.  Now, although Friend #1 didn't necessarily do anything this weekend, it's always been more of the lack of doing and trying from him.  It kind of shook Jon up to realize that he did indeed have a toxic friend and I think Jon will view his friendship with Friend #1 much more closely now.  I know that he and Jon will still and always be friends, but I think Jon is less naive now.  As for Friend #2, he is definitely a done deal.  May I breath another sigh of relief?  Phew! 

Who gets sick in May?

Yeah, that would be this girl.  Perhaps it's from all the toxic paint fumes/plaster I inhaled this weekend when Jon and I painted our bathroom.  Actually, it was more than painting.  I'll start at the beginning.  When Jon and I bought our condo, we were so in awe of just buying our own place that we weren't incredibly scrupulous when it came to noticing things that might bother us later.  For instance, the popcorn ceilings throughout our entire condo that are way too reminiscent of the 80's, the holes in the doors, the leaky faucet, etc... 

Now that we've been living at our place for almost a year, we've definitely had time to notice those things that didn't catch our eye before.  The popcorn ceiling has been one of the things that bother us the most because we figured it would be impossible and/or expensive to fix.  However, while feeding our HGTV addiction last Friday night (yes, we're old and married now and rarely go out on Fridays anymore), we were watching a home makeover show that updates people's homes to make them more marketable.  The homeowners featured had just the same problem we do: ugly, outdated popcorn ceilings.  Oh how they made it look so easy to do away with them!  They simply squirted the ceiling with water (apparently all the "popcorn" is is plaster), let it soak for a bit to get good and wet, and then they just scraped it all right off.  Simple!  Easy!  You can do this at home!

Right.  So Jon and I decide, wow, that was easy.  We were already planning on painting our bathroom, so why not go the whole nine yards and update our ceiling while we're at it?  So after about 2 hours of squirting and scraping, squirting and scraping, we were left with a flat ceiling (with a few holes) and nasty plaster everywhere.  In my hair, in my eyes, in my mouth, down my shirt, you get the picture.  Our popcorn ceiling definitely didn't scrape off as easily as the one in show.  Figures.

But at least it was done!  We patched all the holes, painted the ceiling and then painted our walls a lovely grayish-blue.  It looked fantastic.  That is, however, until we peeled away the painter's tape the next day, you know the tape that you put around the edges so that you get a nice, clean paint line.  Well, the tape freaking pulled away most of the paint that was under it.  So now we get to repaint all the edges.  Eventually.  I'm not getting near another paintbrush anytime soon because I'm still picking paint chips out of my hair. 

My grandfather made a living as a housepainter, and my mom inherited his good painting genes.  She has told me on occasion, after witnessing other horrible paint jobs, that he would be embarrassed of my painting.  I can only laugh because I certainly wouldn't blame him!  Eventually I'll post pictures of our updated bathroom, once we get our new sink and shower doors installed.  Then you'll get to see my streaky paint job. Unless Jon touches it up for me (please?).

Anywho...I've been sick since the paint and scrape job and I'm totally blaming my cold on it.  I'm mean, really, who gets so sick in May (yes, May, the beautiful sunny weather month) that they end up losing their voice?  Croak.  I'm so using this as an excuse not to participate in our next home improvement venture!

Send ice...and a masseuse

I was a good runner.  A really good runner.  Like Division 1 Scholarship good.  After college, I kind of went into a semi-retirement from running because I was tired.  Tired of early morning practice, tired of races every weekend and really just tired of actual running.  I wanted to be able to play tennis without the fear of twisting an ankle, go bike riding without making it into a workout or do Pilates without worrying about pulling a muscle. That was 4 years ago.

However, I still see myself as an athlete and whenever there's any athletic or exercise challenge, I just think, psscchhhhh, I can handle it, I'm a runner (even if I run maybe twice a month at all now).  I mean, I certainly don't look out of shape, so that means I must be in shape, right?  Wrong.  I think it's finally caught up with me. 

Jon and I decided to take a class at our gym last night.  We had the choice between Pilates, Kickboxing or H.I.T.  (High Intensity Training).  Well, I wanted to take the Pilates class because it's so relaxing, not to mention the cute bag I have for toting around my mat.  I also considered taking kickboxing because I've done it before and I certainly know what a great workout it is.  Then I read the description for the H.I.T. class.  "Sports conditioning, muscle sculpt, kickboxing, abs, and stretch all mixed together to form an intense workout. Get it all in 1 hour!"  Great!  Perfect!  Combines aspects of pilates and kickboxing, plus abs!  In 1 hour!! 

Obviously, Jon and I decided to do the H.I.T. class.  We're tough, we're in shape (ha!), we're intense!  I was a little concerned when the class began with only 3 of us in it.  But hey, the warm-up was jogging around the classroom.  I'm good at jogging!  How bad can the rest of the class be?  Well, let me tell you, in can be worse than bad. 

We went into some duck walks across the exercise studio.  That was 10 minutes into the class and I knew I was in trouble.  As I struggled back to the starting point, while squatting like a duck and probably sounding like one too, the instructor sadistically predicted, "You're going to feel those tomorrow!  Mwwa ha ha!"  Okay, so maybe he didn't laugh like that but I felt it right then and there, so my god, how was I going to feel in the morning?

I swear, we didn't stop moving for the entire hour.  In between torture squats and whippings drills and the rack lunges, we were either doing jumping jacks ('jacks' as Captain Crazy referred to them) or running (read: pitifully jogging) in place.  There was also that little bit of pushing large, heavy weights across the floor, but I'd really like to forget about that one.  Oh, and by the way, people kept trickling into the class until there were about 10 of us.  I can't recognize their pain though, because I know none of their thighs hurt as bad as mine did from that very first exercise we did.

I thought we were done when the hour was up.  But nooooooo, we still had to do abs. Okay, even when I was in tip top racing shape, there were some ab exercises that I just could not do.  I don't know why, but my body is not capable of holding my legs straight 6 inches above the ground for any longer than 5 seconds.  Try going through the hour of hell that I just went through and then try to do that!  Hello, cockroach quivering on it's back!  My god.  I did a lot of just laying on my mat during the ab portion.  Then Captain Crazy had the nerve to ask me what I thought after the class was done.  I was honest...I told him, "That was awful!"  He laughed.  Mwaa ha ha.  Evil!

Today I'm having trouble sitting down, walking, going up stairs, basically anything that requires my legs to move.  I'm sure it's only going to get worse as the day goes on.  Athlete, runner, what?  Yeah, I was schooled.

I deserve a gold star

Have you ever heard someone say, "I was so busy I just forgot to eat"?  Well, what they really mean is I was so busy that I didn't have time to eat because my husband sprung something on me last minute so I spent my lunch break feverishly cleaning the house in high heels and work clothes.  Thanks, hon. 

Luckily, now that I work at a large corporation, it is almost guaranteed that there will be leftovers in the kitchen from some meeting or event that you can scrounge on.  Which is why I was able to grab a turkey sandwich and greek pasta salad that is almost certainly better than anything I could have come up with at home. 

Is it just a woman thing that makes you have a spotless house when you are expecting guests?  My husband could certainly care less if the carpet was vacuumed or the mirrors windexed.  His philosophy is "who cares?"  Or maybe it's the just the OCD in me wanting to present a perfect front to the world.  What I do know is that I deserve something pretty out of this; shiny optional, but preferred.

In other news, last week I was asked by the girl at the counter of our Chinese restaurant if I was having a baby.  Now, as a girl who was always made fun of for being so skinny in high school, I was not in the least bit offended because A) I was wearing one of those flowy shirts that could be mistaken for a maternity top, I guess   B)  Even on my worst days when I feel like the ugliest, fattest person in the world, all I have to do is look at the tag in my pants to remember that I'm delightfully thin  C) Most importantly, I was like, "Yeah!  Finally, someone commenting on my appearance without saying, "God, you're thin, how much do you weigh?"  Thanks girl at the counter of our Chinese restaurant...you made my day.

On a final note, we won our kickball game last night and celebrated with Apple Pie shooters.  Yum!  Except for the cinnamon that got in my contact...but yum anyway!  Go Exhibitionists!!

No soup for you!

Last night, Jon and I decided to go get haircuts at the mall.  Now, when I'm getting a serious cut or color done to my hair, I go to my girl at Bubbles.  But when I just need a trim and my hair is the way it is now (long, no layers), I'll go to a place like Hair Cuttery or Great Clips to save some money.  I'm not going to spend $35 just to get an inch trimmed off my hair!

So anyway, we went to Hair Cuttery at the mall last night.  When we walked in, we told them we each just needed a trim and one of the three women at the counter said, okay, I'll take him first.  So I'm thinking, okay, one of the other women can take me.  Wrong.  So I took a seat and the other two women went about sweeping the floor and straightening chairs leaving me standing at the counter.  I was kind of dumbfounded, so I just sat in a chair. Then an older man and his son walked in and the woman who I had determined to be the manager walked right over to them, signed them in and led them both over to chairs so that she and the other woman could cut their hair.

I just stared at the women in disbelief.  Hello???  I'm still waiting here to have my hair trimmed...that's all I need!  So while I sat there stewing and glaring at the women, who, by the way, kept looking back over at me, I decided that out of the principle of the matter, I was not going to get my hair cut there, no matter how bad my split ends are!  I mean, seriously, that's horrible customer service!  It's not like my hair is difficult to cut...I just needed a trim!  And I'll tip you good!

So needless to say, I did not give them my business and I still have split ends.  This isn't the first time I've suffered for the sake of the principle of things*.  On the way back from our honeymoon, Jon and I had a layover in Charlotte.  We were starving by the time we got there, so we decided to get a bite to eat.  Of course, I headed straight for the Chinese food restaurant.  Well, when I was ordering, the man was so rude to me that I just said, you know what, never mind, I'm not going to eat here, and I walked off.  All I really wanted was some Chinese food, but I just couldn't give them my money after that. 

I've worked as a waitress, a cashier at a fast food joint, a cashier in retail, and many other customer service oriented jobs, so I think that's why I expect to receive great customer service.  And I reward it greatly too.  I remember how much it meant to me when I was a waitress to get a higher than average tip.  It might only be a few dollars to me and you, but to someone who might be putting themselves through college or trying to buy a car, it really does add up. 

All of this kind of reminds me of the Soup Nazi episode from Seinfeld.  The soup was so good that people were willing to be humiliated and reprimanded and turned away depending on the mood and crankiness of the Soup Nazi.  I wonder how good something would have to be for me to be willing to go through that and still want the product regardless of the treatment I received?  Nothing really comes to mind for me...where would you draw the line?

*Yes, suffering for me is split ends and no chinese food :(  I'm a lucky girl.

Your good deed for the day

Mother's Day is this Sunday and what better way to celebrate Mom than with the gift of life?  They are, afterall, the ones who give us life.  The National Marrow Donor Program is offering a free sign-up to become part of their national registry from today through May 21st.  It usually costs $52 to add a new marrow donor to the registry, but it is absolutely free during this time period.  You will be sent a kit in the mail to obtain a cheek swab and all you have to do is send it back in.  Don't worry, your marrow does grow back within a month or so, just like how your blood replenishes after you donate blood. 

Bone marrow transplants can treat leukemia and many other forms of blood disease and cancer.  Often, blood relatives are not a match and that is why it is so important for everyone to consider being a donor, even if they are not personally affected by a loved one's need.  Just think of the karma, people! :)  It's definitely a good thing.  And if the bone marrow removal procedure is what's stopping you from signing up, consider making a financial contribution to fund costs associated with the procedure. 

Visit www.marrow.org for more information and to sign up for the registry or donate some moolah.  In honor of my mom who gave me life, I signed up...and I hope you do too.  Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there :)

Kickball

So Jon and I play on an adult kickball league every Monday night.  For those of you who didn't know that people over the age of 10 still play kickball, yes, it's very true.  We play for WAKA (World Adult Kickball Association) on the Potomac league, and let me tell you, it's a very popular sport in DC.  They have several different leagues that all play on different nights.  And the best part?  We get to play on the mall in DC; in the shadows of the Capital building and the Washington monument.  How cool is that?

We've had three games so far and haven't won one yet (0-2-1), but our team really doesn't take it too hard because we have so much fun anyway!  Actually, I think the whole kickball league thing is an excuse for people to go to bars and get drunk into the wee hours of a weekday morning.    Our sponsor bar is Kelly's Irish Time and they have a basement that could rival the rowdiest frat house when the WAKA teams hit it. 

Jon and I played on a different team two years ago and we really felt like we were the lifeline of the team because we went to every single game and went out to the bar afterwards.  This time around though, we feel more like the party poopers because our team is a wild bunch that loves to party and sometimes we would just rather go home and relax or work on something in our condo.  Have we become boring or is it just that our priorities have changed so much?  In any case, it's still fun to get out in the fresh air and play a fun game of kickball with friends, both old and new. 

Life after the Wedding-Part Two

Work has been crazy so sorry for the delay!  Okay, now onto all of the changes that marriage brought for me...

First up, the name change.  Changing my name was sooooo hard for me for many reasons.  First, I just really love my maiden name.  It's short and sweet and easy to pronounce and spell.  Second, I was a serious athlete in high school and college and came to be known by my last name as most athletes do.  I also had many comical nicknames formed from my last name, so I kind of miss that too.  Most of all though, is the sense that you're losing your identity.  It was my name for 24 years and really I feel like it defined me.  It's a link to my parents and family.  It's also the name on my college diploma, my high school track records and the even the vanity tags on my car.

However, when I weighed the pros with the cons, taking my husband's name felt right.  I am proud to be Mrs. D.  For me, it solidified the fact that we are now partners in crime for the rest of our lives.  And he's my best friend...what can be better than sharing your name with your best friend?  I also thought ahead to the future for when we have children.  It's simply so much easier to have the same last name as your kids.  So I kind of made a compromise.  I took Jon's last name as my new last name, but I kept my maiden name as my middle name.  I still have the link to my family and I also have the link with my husband.  So it all worked out in the end.

The other changes weren't so drastic, but it still takes an adjustment period to get used to them.  Sharing a bed for instance...I'm most comfortable sprawled out diagonally across the bed.  Now I have my side and he has his side.  I have to share my side with our dog Lola though so I always feel like I'm pressed up against the edge of the bed! 

Money issues were another big change for me.  I'm a spender, Jon's a saver.  I think we've both compromised in that regard.  I understand now that we have a mortgage and other bills to pay and that if we ever want to move into a house, we have to save, save, save.  So I've cut my shopping habit down a lot!  But Jon also realizes that shopping really makes me happy and that I just need to get my shopping fix every now and then, even if it's just buying something for $5 at Marshall's.  So we're both happy :)

Other changes were minor...somehow we've morphed into roles in our household.  Jon's the handyman and I clean the bathroom.  We share cooking duties, but I'm the baker and he's the griller.  He takes care of the electronics in our house and I take care of the pretty things like pillows and pictures. 

All in all, 8 months into our marriage, we're both still incredibly in love and extremely happy.  We have great in-laws and new families, a cozy (read: TINY) condo that we can call home and each other to come home to.  Life is good :)

Life after the Wedding-Part One

Jon and I were engaged for just about 8 and a half months.  Many people think that you need no less than a year to plan a fabulous wedding, but it was plenty of time for me to get everything taken care of.  When you think about it, all of your planning and effort is focused on one day: your wedding day.  Eight months is a lot of time devoted to making one day as perfect as it possibly can be.  What happens after that day?  After the honeymoon?  That is marriage.  That is the real day-to-day living as husband and wife...the stuff no one really tells you about and you don't really get until you are married.  First up, the post-wedding letdown.

I absolutely love being married and I love being a wife.  It's a role I've jumped into wholeheartedly and truly enjoy. There's a bit of disappointment after the wedding is over though.  Okay, more like a big letdown.  Who knew that I would miss planning my wedding so much?  You're not the blushing bride anymore; you're now just a wife.  I still feel a twinge in my heart when I see a wedding commercial on t.v. or stumble across all of my old planning books knowing that my bridal days are over.  You start to think, ohhh, we should have done this or that and blah blah blah.  There are always going to be things you could have done differently with your wedding and I'm finally beginning to accept that my wedding was beautiful and unique and when it comes down to it, there are really only a few things that I would change.  (Hello, weather??  Not that I had any control over that one!)

And I feel a teeny bit envious of those who are newly engaged and about to start this incredible journey.  But you know, I think that really speaks to have wonderful the engagement time is.  I think that's when I really started to feel like Jon and I were a team and that we would be sharing in the decision making process for the rest of our lives.  The engagement is really the dress rehearsal for the whole rest of your marriage and I think it does sort of set the tone for what your marriage will be like.  Happy engagement, happy marriage (for us anyway!)

Jon would probably say that I miss the engagement so much because I was the center of attention and made to feel special...okay, so that part is true too, but whatever!  He's just glad we are married and he doesn't have to give input on cake frosting or pew bows anymore.  Typical guy :)

Coming up next...the changes that come with being a wifey...