Life in the Middle Lane

Alternatively titled: Why I prefer nudity

I have to start this post by telling everyone that I’m not just getting fatter. I hope to GOD that I’m not getting fatter, since I pay 50 bucks a month for a gym membership and I spend 3+ hours several days a week working out and dealing with all the stuff that goes along with working out (travel, showering, etc)

Since starting to work out last year, I’ve toned up tremendously (I have thighs and buns of steel) but I haven’t seen the scale budge.  Honestly, I haven’t seen a difference in (most) of my clothes. It takes a huge weight gain before my clothes let me know that I’ve started gaining.  The latest weight gain took place during the two years that I was in MPA School drinking beer and exercising little (none in the first year, sporadically in the second year).  I’m just (in the past 6-8 months) starting to notice and, only recently, try to do something about it.

Because I’m something of a yo-yo weight loser I have about 3 different sizes of clothes.  The first (lowest sized) clothes are tight now, and I’ve moved on to the next largest size.  These clothes are supposed to fit.

So I was surprised last week, when, after only a few hours at work I realize how uncomfortable I am. I realize that my clothes are tight. And of course, as soon as I START to think about how the waistband of my pants is digging into my stomach, I can’t think of anything but my bloated stomach.

So after a couple more hours of labored breathing and hurting stomach, I vow that as soon as I get these clothes home, they are going into my “goodwill” pile.

Later, I get home; chuck the pants and the shirt (good riddance!) away, put on my favorite sweat pants and finally starts to breath normally.  When the GF get’s home, I, still sore from the day of poor circulation around my middle, tell her about giving the pants away.

And she asked me which pants I’m giving away because I’m not allowed to give any away until she made sure that they aren’t the pants she liked to see me in.

*Shrugging*.  What am I going to do with her?

The story continues….

It has been unseasonably cold in Atlanta this winter, so I’m learning how to layer (Don’t judge me, I’m southern.  I shouldn’t have to layer).  I was wearing a button-down shirt under a sweater.   Somehow two of the shirt’s buttons have come undone, it’s tight around the shoulders and the sweater is itchy on my skin.  And I think I shrunk this sweater last time I washed it because it is RIDING UP along my stomach.

Not happy times.

Guess what?  I have more items for my “goodwill” bag.  (Yay for somebody.)

I think I need to go on a diet.

I’m also going to think about fundamentally changing the way that I dress.  Three out of five days a week something I wear to work makes me uncomfortable. I hate pants, shirts, and boots. I can’t wait until summer when I can wear skirts, dresses and flip flops. I NEVER feel this uncomfortable in a skirt (unless I’m cold).  I felt more uncomfortable yesterday than I did in 4^th grade gym class when I had to turn flips in a shirt without showing my ass. I need flowy pieces, tunics, elastic, cotton, things that breathe (so that I can breathe).

I need to go shopping.

And on a semi-related note…

Dear Mother Nature, Can I get some sunshine and 78 degree weather so that I don’t have to wear all these clothes? Puh -Puh -Please?

My life is riddled with occasions that I did the “right” thing even though it may not have been what I really wanted to do.  These are occasions where I may not have really known what I wanted to do so I did what was suggested. Or times when I didn’t want to disappoint someone who was counting on me.  Or times when I did what I thought would give me the most flexible or practical outcome, even if something else would have been so much more fun or interesting.

If something goes wrong and outcomes are bad, I generally have someone else to blame for these decisions. And I often regret that I forfeited my own decision making power to someone else. At the very least, I kick myself in the ass for not being true to what I want.

Sometimes I just make impulsive, some would say rash, decisions. Those passionate, emotional, little-thought-required decisions are generally the ones that I am the happiest with. In those cases, even when/if I fall on my face, I get up and stand behind whatever decision I made. After all, I either got what I wanted or learned a huge lesson, right?

Some decisions, like my decision to go to Salem College, are a combination of both. My then-boyfriend was already in college in Winston Salem, so it made sense to me (in my 16 year old brain) that I should be looking at colleges in the same town so that we could be together forever. I scoped out the Winston Salem colleges and found two that looked good(Wake Forest University and Salem College).  I applied, was accepted and visited them both.

I visited WFU first and at best, I felt indifferent and at worst, I felt like my soul died a little on that campus.  But when I visited Salem, I felt immediately at home. The other colleges where I was accepted (and there were some good ones) didn’t stand a chance because I made an irrational, emotional decision. Salem was where I belonged, price, location, etc be damned! That decision changed the course of my life (for better and worse). But regardless of my mixed feelings about Salem, I never regretted my decision to attend that school. I went because there was an irrepressible calling here. It was like I was being tugged by something I couldn’t see.

I’m on the verge of making another illogical, emotional; some would probably say stupid, decision to try to be involved with something that I am extremely passionate about. (my true friends could probably guess it in 3 tries, it only took my mother 1) This decision (and what is likely to come out of it) won’t make me rich, likely won’t advance my career, is likely going to cost me money, and is going to make me do something that a few months ago I said I wouldn’t do.

But I’m going to do it anyway because if I woke up tomorrow and found that my uncle would give me money to quit my job, this one thing that I’m about to do- would be something on which I would dedicate large amounts of time and energy.

And damn it, it’s my life and I wanna do it.

But you know what, the longer I think about it (big mistake) the easier it becomes to try to talk myself out of it. Trust me, this decision isn’t practical, it’s a bit of a long shot, and I am nowhere close to having all the details all figured out.  But I’m like a cat, I *tend* to land on my feet. And details aren’t really my thing, they fall into place on their own.

And in this particular case, a wise person told me that they knew it was only a matter of time before I came around to this decision. She told me that my whole life has been in preparation for this moment.

And another wise person said that this particular thing is something that I’ve been talking about repeatedly for the whole time they’ve known me. This person damn near laid out a plan of attack based solely on all the random sh*t I’ve said over the years.

And I have another friend who told me that when I truly KNOW myself and allow me to be me, my purpose would reveal itself. (And I SWEAR she was talking about this.)

So anyway, I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, “What the hell do I want?” And my whole heart says, “This.”

And God help me, I’m going to listen.

Many of you, some of you, someone (?) may have wondered where I’ve been since November.

Well. If you must know. I’ve spend the past couple of months writing fiction. I participated in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November.  The point of NaNoWriMo is to write a novel with a minimum of 50,000 words. I failed at getting to 50,000 words, at midnight on November 30 (the deadline), I had about 35,000 words.  In spite of this failure, I created a better writing habit, and have some great new tools to help me get my writing done.  And I have a great beginning to my novel.

December was Party (aka Networking) month.  I’m still looking for a better job, my super awesome life coach Jenny Ferry told me that the holidays are a great time to network.  I totally found that to be true, and at least a few times each week I was attending various lunches, receptions, and happy hours all devoted to networking, holiday cheer and getting me a job.  And when I wasn’t networking, I was likely writing or celebrating my birthday (aka MoniChrismas)

It’s 2010 now, and I’m back in the saddle. You can expect to see posts here (and here) at least once or twice a week.

I hope you had an amazing holiday season! And damn it, 2010 HAS to be better than 2009.

One of the problems with setting (and keeping) goals is that I’m easily distracted. And while I’ve done a heck of a job accomplishing my goals, I’ve spent some time on things that are important, but didn’t make it on the initial list.

For example, the GF and I gave me six months to write my business plan. And I really should have a business plan as I start to build relationships with commercial developers in the city. And I have found several organizations that give grants to people who do some of the things that I want to do, but to apply for these grants, you need a business plan.  So I’ve taken some time to start working on my business plan.  Since it’s going to take a significant block of time, it needs to be added to the goals list.

Also, another unspoken goal that I’ve been working on has been writing. There had been a couple of catalysts over the past weeks that have spurred me to start writing more.  A) I’ve read a couple of books with some of the most beautiful contemporary prose, which inspires me to write and B) I’ve just finished a book for my book club that is HORRIBLE. I truly believe that if this author can be published, then dammit, so can I. So I started writing.  And since being a writer is one of my long term goals, practicing should be on my list of short-term goals.

Otherwise, here is the breakdown of how I’ve met my goals this month.

The five most important things in my life

1. Meeting new people and Making friends
2. Getting my bills settled
3. Learning my new environment
4. Building my brand
5. Being a better friend, partner and family member

What I’ve done so far to work these:

I attended my book club meeting. Even though I wasn’t impressed with the book, I have a great time with these ladies, so make an effort to attend book club events and respond to emails.  I could really be friends with these ladies.

I have been working on my budgeting skills with the help of J. Money’s templates and this month has been way better than August! I made it through the whole month without over-drafting my checking account and I’m below my limits on my credit cards. Woo-hoo!

I’ve talked to @Norcross about working on my website. He’s awesome. But I’m slow, so this is definitely a work in progress and it will likely take me a couple more months to get it all settled and done.

I’ve spent lots of time with my sister. We attended the Atlanta Arts Festival together, we went to Wal-Mart together, and I’ve gone with her to church a couple of times. We’ve both done a much better job of calling and texting each other more often.  I talk to my mom at least twice a week, so I think I’m doing a good job there. I haven’t done as great a job with the weekly emailing of my brother. I have emailed him a couple of times, and I haven’t gotten a response. Maybe I should send him a care package and a real letter

September has been a really good month for my relationship. Does that mean I got better at communicating? I don’t know. But whatever I did, I hope I can maintain it.

And all that other stuff I said I wanted to do?

1.  Calling and/or emailing my friends in NC at least once a week. I’ve gotten out of touch with my MPA family

Done. I have called, texted, or emailed someone from NC at least once a week. Completing this goal has made me feel so good. It is definitely something I want to keep doing.

2.Watch how much money I spend at the grocery store. (I tend to go a bit overboard.)

Done. Having a budget in place and going to the grocery with a list made this goal a lot easier.

3. I need to (a.) join (b.) go to (5x wkly) a gym; working out outside isn’t working for me.

Mostly done. Within the first week of September I joined a gym. While I may not have gone 5x a week, I have totally gone 3-4 times a week! And I supplemented those gym visits with off-day walks in my “neighborhood”. I can already fit into a pair of jeans that were fitting rather snuggly (and not in a good way). YAY me!

AND I’m writing grants for a non-profit that is affiliated with the gym so I got a FREE membership! Double YAY!

4.  Call my mom and sister twice a week, send my brother one email a week.  Send text messages to friends when I think of them.

Totally DONE!

5.  Build a marketing campaign for Cosmopolitan Urbanist (and find a web designer)

Not so much. But I did talk to Norcross

6.  Attend more meet-up events

Not even. But it rained for almost 16 days straight. I didn’t do many activities that made me go outside. I will do better in October.

7.  Contact local commercial developers.

I contacted one and didn’t get a response back. I found a couple more that I want to check out.

8.  Show my emotions.

Maybe. I’ve been in a pretty good mood lately, so I think so.

9.  I think I’ve found the organization that I’d like to work with next, so now I have to bring myself to their attention. I’m going to attend their September board meeting, and say something useful while I’m there.

The first week in September I got an email from this organization asking me to volunteer on a project. So I didn’t have to bring myself to their attention. They were already thinking of me

10.  (Carried over from last month) Get a map of the interior of I-285 and explore different Atlanta neighborhoods, by car.

I haven’t gotten a map, but I have traveled to some neighborhoods that I’m unfamiliar with. So, I’m giving myself a pass here.

I’m posting my October Goals tomorrow. Look Out!

I learned something new about myself as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, as blog ideas, paper ideas, half finished conversations, life questions and my to-do list swirled through my head.

Some people have muscle tension when their stressed. Some people go blind. Some people get irritable. Some people lose their libido. And some people eat or cry.

I get insomnia. And headaches. And I eat crapily.

As I started thinking about the times that I have had insomnia (and the other symptoms) in the past, I began to see a pattern.

I had insomnia for the entirety of hell year. I would go to bed around 9:30 pm. Lie awake looking at the ceiling, worrying about the bad ass kids I was supposed to teach. Finally, doze off about 3 or 4 am, and wake up at 5:30 to go to work.

At work I would go hide in the teacher’s lounge and cat nap in the bathroom (on the floor) or I would fall asleep during small reading group when the kids would read to me.

After work, I would spend 2 hours at the gym, go home, have dinner, have a couple of glasses of wine, take a sleeping pill (or three) and go to bed.  Then I would start the cycle all over again.

**shudder**

Four years ago, I started a new job, that I loved and for most of my employment there I took children’s Benadryl at night to help me fall asleep.

When I was studying for the GRE and LSAT 2 years ago, all the benadryl in the world couldn’t help me sleep the whole night through.

Every time I go visit the GF in Atlanta, the first night there is always spend restlessly calming down after the 6 hour drive.

You see, Stressd Moni = No Sleep

So a few weeks ago, the headaches started.  I thought it was the holidays. Or the constant NC-GA traveling. Or the crazy weather we were having . Or the GF.

Then I found myself staying awake until 2 am or later.  I thought it was because I was sleeping with the TV on (*cough*, gf’s fault) or because I was working on my capstone, or I was writing or tweeting or because of one thing or another.

But lately, things have gotten worse.   Even when I try to go to sleep “early”, at let’s say 1 am, I still find myself restless and screaming into my pillow.  I usually doze off at about 4 am.

Then morning comes and I drag my aching head out of the bed and into the kitchen, where I find that all I have to eat is canned soup, oatmeal, chocolate cake and popcorn (just slight exaggeration) because I haven’t been to the grocery in weeks.  So I eat chocolate cake (sans milk) for breakfast/lunch and get to work.

And I sit in front of the computer all day.  I’m working on my capstone, which this week means I’m data mining email addresses from downtown development authority websites.   Very tedious and mindless.

So mindless, that hours pass before I realize that all I’ve had to eat all day is chocolate cake. So I go back into the kitchen, get discouraged and eat some popcorn.

And go back to work.

Pathetic, sure. Stressful? Not really.

So what is my problem?

Then I remember my pattern. Not eating well, Not sleeping well, constant headaches.  Hhhmmmm. Sounds like stress.

But Monica, you’re still on vacation, the semester hasn’t even started, and your capstone is coming along. What do you have to be stressed about?

At some point, I’ve learned to live at a high anxiety level.  So, even when things are good, I CREATE stress. Or the perception of stress.  And if there is a little stress, I make it BIGGER. And if there is big stress, then oh boy!

I’m crazy. *sigh*

So, when I realized today that maybe the insomnia and heaviness that I’ve been feeling is stress related and not emotional or hormonal or a symptom of the coming full moon, I started evaluating my life and my stressors.

Know what I found?

Not stress. Not worry. Not really fear.

I found EXCITEMENT.

I am so CRUNK about this semester. My class schedule is amazing!

I have so many IDEAS. A new blog, short story characters, capstone stuff and business ideas have all taken up residence in my brain.

I will be starting a new employment opportunity soon.

I’ve set up lessons with a swim coach!

I bought a book that will help me create healthy meal plans!

I graduate in MAY and will be moving SOMEWHERE fabulous.

I’m finding direction in my life and I’m happy with where it’s going.

Even the things that scare me sh*tless like my classes or my capstone are contributing to the feeling of accomplishment and excitement and you-can do-it ness that I’m feeling.

I’m beginning to believe that stress doesn’t have to be bad. Stress (and it’s alter ego, excitement) can give us energy, and get our adrenaline pumping.

I’m glad I have been able to see that I’m excited (which is good), rather than worried or scared (which would be bad.)  I can use this excitement to get me through the next 6 months and make sure I get all my sh*t done on time.

I should probably stay up until 4 and get everything OUT of my head since I’m going to be awake anyway.

And when my body is ready to calm down, it will.

I have gotten one (just one) speeding ticket every year since 2003. And apparently, getting caught speeding once is a year is too much (I thought I was doing well, to only get one ticket a year).

My speedy ways, along with the accident of 2008 caused my car insurance rate to increase from $152 to $259.   A month.

I’m spending nearly the same amount for car insurance, monthly, as I am for my car PAYMENT. It’s too much.

So I did a little digging, and called up a few of my insurance agent friends, and asked them for a quote.

After Allstate quoted $237 (with a $500 deductible) and Nationwide $289 (with $100 deductible), and State Farm flat out said that I was uninsurable; I decided to keep myself with my current agency, Progressive, even though sometimes they are a pain in my ass. And they screw stuff up ALL THE TIME.

I was amazed today, not only by the outrageous price of car insurance, but by something the Allstate guy told me.

He said that I shouldn’t want a $100 deductible. Why? Because then I would be tempted to call and make claims.  You see, he thought that a $500 is the least that ANYONE should have (but especially “a person like me”).  Why?

He said that car insurance is not for minor accidents and fender benders.  He said that car insurance is for catastrophic accidents where you are going to get sued or someone is going to the hospital. By having a $100 deductible, I may be able to get my car fixed cheaply, but I’ll pay more over the long haul in higher premiums (which I am currently experiencing).

But how am I supposed to get my car fixed if I don’t file an insurance claim?

He believes that one (me, specifically) should be able to pay for most accidents out of pocket and not involve the insurance company.

What?

Yes. If I hit someone and our cars are minorly damaged, I should just go to the closest Bank of America and withdraw the cash to cover it.

What planet is he from?

According to the insurance guy, that nest egg you have saved up? It’s not for when you lose your job, or have a flood in your house, or have a baby. It’s for that car accident you might have.

Yep, that accident that you shouldn’t call the insurance company to report.

If what he says is true, then car insurance is a bigger rip-off than health insurance!  What is the point in having insurance if you are too afraid, or it costs too much, to actually use it?

If I’m in an accident, I want the peace of mind of knowing that I will be able to get my car fixed. I don’t want to be afraid to call the folks who are supposed to take care of me.

I guess I should be afraid. And I should only call the insurance guys if I’m also calling an ambulance.

And that money I thought I saved by moving into a smaller apartment? I’m sending it to Progressive. Dammit.

I love Bath and Body Works fragrances. I wear the lotions, and body washes and sprays. Any of my friends will tell you that I have around 8 bottles of each (ranging from almost full to almost empty). I kick myself all the time because instead of wearing them, I always convince myself to save them for a special occasion. And really, how often is there a special occasion?

Well today, I needed to feel pretty, so I used one of my Favorite body washes, Pear Blossom and I could just feel the smile come on my face.

Out of the shower, I could not bring myself to cover the Pear Blossom with my normal (cheap) lotion smell. So I tried to think of a way to use the Pear Blossom lotion without using so much of it (you never know when they will discontinue a favorite scent, damn them). And I found a solution.

I also love, and use daily, Vaseline Intensive Care Unscented lotion. I always keep a bottom of it around, mainly because it keeps me soft and I also like the unscented scent.

So I mixed the Vaseline Unscented with the Bath and Body Works Pear Blossom.  And guess what I smell like?

Heaven!

If you mix unscented lotion with scented lotion, you’ll smell like the scented. Seems like a no-brainer, but I’d never tried it before.

Now my Bath and Body Works lotions will last even longer, I won’t have to wait for a special occasion, and I’ve been sniffing myself all day.

So I can be thrifty AND flowery, fruity fresh and soft all day.

For the past 10 days, the prodigal son my baby brother has been in town. He hasn’t been home in over 2 years, and the last time I saw him, he had a cast covering his entire right leg (courtesy of a roadside bomb in Iraq) and I couldn’t stop petting him out of gratitude that he was still alive. So it was EXCELLENT to get to see him this year whole and walking without assistance. Additionally, my super awesome cityslicker baby sister has been home from college since my birthday.

As my siblings and I are unnaturally close, I’ve been spending a LOT of time at my mother’s house since their arrival. Beating each other up, fighting over the remote, laughing at mom (and each other), burping in each other’s faces and blaming each other for eating the last of the banana pudding (I promise it wasn’t me). It was amazingly fun and I’m so glad I was able to play with them.

I couldn’t help but notice, however, that I’m not 14. My sister isn’t a precocious 5 years old and my brother isn’t a shy preteen.  We are all adults. (That’s a f*cking scary thought).

In addition to our extremely juvenile antics, we also had some real conversations about life, love, depression and death. (Funny how those four go together).  At any rate, my babies are grown. They have opinions and ideas. Nevermind that our conversations, even on those heavy subjects, still result in oodles of raucous laughter.

The lives of my siblings do not revolve around our neat little nuclear family unit any more. I think my mother did a fantastic job of raising fully formed humans, even though, she sometimes (and I when it comes to my siblings) have a hard time adjusting to the way our family roles have changed.

My brother, who, when we were growing up, would easily toss my sisters and I around like his own personal rag dolls, acknowledged yesterday while he was struggling to carry my sister up a flight of stairs, either she’s getting heavy or he’s getting old (both, of course, are true). But I couldn’t help remembering how easily he would have accomplished that same task a few years ago.

Over this holiday break, I have had a chance to hang out with some of my “big” cousins.  I mean those cousins that were grown (and uber cool in my young eyes) when I was a teenager.  Lil’ Moni used to sneak and listen to the “adult” conversations that would flow around them.  They were usually about who’s having sex, is it any good, how often and with whom -apparently conversations that I was too young to hear then (and I didn’t understand them anyway), but now …. now is a different story. Now, not only is my participation requested in these conversations, it’s damn near mandatory. I can’t count the number of times this week that my family asked me about my “social life”.  And the stories that they tell, wow. I could write a book.

And now my big cousins have kids of their own, kids whose ears are routinely covered or who are flat out told to go outside and play, but who I am sure are smart enough to figure it out what the hell is going on.

But I have a very important question. Where did all the time go?

I say all this to say that time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking, into the future. And there is NOTHING we can do about it.

As much as I’d like to keep my siblings young, carefree and innocent of the dirt, evil, and suffering in this world, I can’t. Life happens, man. As much as I will always remember my big cousins, some of whom are in their 40’s now, as young and bright and shiny twenty and thirtysomethings marching toward the prime of their lives, I must remind myself that I am now in that position.  If my life is to move forward (and it must) then I have be aware that time stands still for no one.

We get two choices: move of our own volition or get run over. I’m not getting run over, but repeatedly this holiday season has reminded me,

Cherish this time. Soak it up. Remember this. You will never live this moment again.

And luckily, I listened.

On December 13, 1981 a star was born.

That was real dramatic wasn’t it?  But it’s true. On that date, around 7 pm, according to my mama, a new (or fairly new) person entered this world.  I say fairly new because I’m not convinced that reincarnation isn’t real. I mean, how else to you explain deja vu or how some things (and some people) almost immediately feel like home? It’s because we’ve been here before and we’ve been sent back here to get things right this time (or just do a better job, at least).

What does it mean, to get things right? To me, it means fulfilling a purpose.  I’ve been thinking a lot about my purpose this week, partially because most days don’t go by without me thinking about what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. But it has been more heavily on my mind this week. And I’m blaming my mother for this too. (Most things are her fault, anyway, right?)

She says to me (on my birthday), “You are special. You have always been special. You have a calling on your life. I don’t know if you are supposed to preach (her wish for me) or if you are supposed to help people in some other way, but your life has a purpose, you have a mission.”

After I picked my damn mouth up off the floor, I stuttered my agreed. Yes, I said, I’m supposed to help people, and I went on to ask, “And since you are prophesying-why don’t you just tell me HOW I’m supposed to help people, I know the WHAT (sort of) but I’m stuck on the HOW.”

Of course, she didn’t have that answer. And yes, my mother is, like, crazy ya-ya spiritual. I just go with it; there is NO WAY to explain it. So when she starts telling me a dream that she had about me (that mirrored something that actually happened in my life) or when she says I’m “called” to do something, I take that sh*t seriously. She’s just that connected to whatever higher power is pulling the strings (or she’s crazy).

Either way, She’s right. I’m here on purpose. My birth was no accident. I have something to do that no one else could do. Now, if someone could just TELL MY WHAT MY PURPOSE IS!!!!!!!

Well, I’ve decided that 27 is a good enough age to figure that sh*t out. And it’s time for me to embrace whatever the hell I’m supposed to be.

I’m excited about being 27. Isn’t 27 the BEST age? It’s not like 24 where you are still too young, in most cases, to be taken seriously, or like 35 when you are too old to “drop it like it’s hot” or some other thing that 30+ people don’t do.

But at 27 I’m old enough to prove that I’ve been around the block and I know what the hell I’m talking about, but I’m still young enough to get a tattoo without having folks roll their eyes.

So I’m excited about 2009 and I’m looking forward to all that I will accomplish during my 27^th year!

I’m going to go ahead, letting the Universe know that I’m expecting this year to be moniceriffic (or monicalicious, or monicawesome (either will do).

I am the oldest of four children.  Luckily, my mother gave birth to excellence all four times. We are smart, beautiful, gifted, funny and one day we will rule the world.

While I do believe the genes worked in my favor in a lot of ways, there is at least one way that my siblings are better than me.

My brother and sisters have awesome fashion sense.

And I don’t.

This comes to my attention every time I look at my youngest sister.  This woman is 18 and she dresses beautifully. She always looks well put together (even when she’s wearing sweatpants and t-shirts).  It is so not fair.  And my brother, goodness, this boy makes jeans and polos look as good as anything I’ve ever seen. They can wear colors and shapes and style and so many things that make me look dumpy and old. Or too young and fat.  Either way, my babies always look great, and I often look a step-child. And they are quick to point out all the fashion mistakes I make.

Well, this year I made a decision.  I am an adult andI need to dress like an adult. And just any old adult. I need to be hot, sexy, (but professional) lady.  I need to be a bombshell at all times.  I need walk into a room and hear my theme music.  [It is Dancing Queen, btw]

I need confidence.

I think better clothes will give me more confidence.

Furthermore, I’m in transition. I’m about to start the last semester of MPA school.  I’m going to going on interviews soon. I’m moving across the country. I’m starting a new life.   I am an adult, I should look like one. And I need to feel good about myself.  Now. Not just when I lose 20 pounds.

I’m growing up, and creating my personal style. Most importantly, my outside needs to match my inside, which we all know is peaches and cream, sugar and spice, super cool and awesomeness.

So this year, when my mother took me out for our customary “its your birthday, let’s buy clothes” shopping extravaganza, I made my super awesome, fashionista sister come with. And I made her give me lessons on putting outfits together. She had some good things to say:

• Make sure that shirts are long enough, so that you aren’t fidgeting with a too-short shirt
• Pants, likewise, should be long (my sis is tall and thinks highwaters are the devil)
• Stick to colors that are easy to match (but don’t get stuck)
• Take risks and don’t be afraid to try new things
• Love accessories (belts, necklaces, earrings, etc)
• Layer- camisoles and cardigans are your friend
• Buy clothes that fit (not too tight or you look skanky, but not so big that you look like a balloon)
• Create a long leansilhouette (no bulges)
• Be comfortable

This shopping trip was fun. For the first time, i didn’t fret that all the trendy jean styles didn’t look good.  I didn’t buy pants thinking, well, when I lose weight it’ll look  better. And I wasn’t in charge of finding my sizes (my sister was).

[Aside: This girl is a Economic major, but I swear she should be an image consultant. I'd PAY her for her insight, or to just go shopping and bring the clothes to me.]

I bought clothes that fit well and made me look more awesome than usual. And I’m really f-ing happy with my purchases.

Granted, some things never change so most of my new clothes are black, gray and red (I bet 80% of my closet consist of those colors). But wait, i bought a green cardigan and I bought something purple.   I also bought a few items that I normally wouldn’t wear, like buttondown shirts and hip hugging sweaters. AND I bought one of those wide belts that is supposed to accentuate my figure, and  long pants that fit. (no muffintop or highwaters for me, lol).

But since my birthday isn’t until Dec. 13 (that’s right, Saturday!!!!) I can’t wear my beautiful new clothes until then. BOO!   However, my lovely gf is taking out for fabulous dinner, and I’m looking forward to getting dressed up in my  new birthday clothes!