Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Shyness is Nice and Shyness Can Stop You From Doing All the Things in Life You Like To

I do not have nerves of steel. This is not a surprise.
Normally, this weakness is manifest in confrontation, when I tend to cry, even if I don't want to. Or when I'm trying to be brave. Or when my heart is hurt. Or when someone says something that hits me right in the gut. Despite 20/20 vision, I've long thought my eyes were my weakest point, because try as I might, they always betray me.
As I get older, though, I think I get worse. My hands have been shaking since yesterday. Nothing is really the matter-- just a big load at work, but I actually embrace it. Still, there's something about completing these particular tasks that has me so nervous I'm on edge, answering the phone a little less enthusiastically, jumping down people's throats, and shaking like a leaf. Why I should palsy-up now after 30 years of calm is a mystery.
And I'm terribly shy. Awkwardly. Debilitatingly. Shocked? You've seen me in person, and how I can work a room? You know that I don't let crowds of hundreds phase me when I'm speaking or acting? And surely you know I can call up even celebrities or media big-wigs and not even break a sweat. But it's that small group that terrifies me-- the intimacy that keeps me hiding behind my long hair.
Last night we had a talent show at FHE. I tried to do something I'd never done before-- sing alone in public. It's amazing that when I'm in the privacy of my car or my shower, my singing voice sounds just fine. I can sing to Niece Paizlee and not worry one bit. Of course, there are a lot of things I do in my house that I'd never do in public-- krumping, for instance. Singing should not be a big deal. But oh, it was.
The plan was to sing a song to a nerdy little boy at FHE, but none were there. Instead, attending were a boy who thinks I love him (nope), a boy who used to like me, but I accidentally dissed pretty hardcore, a boy my friend likes, a boy who likes boys, and then another guy. So I thought I'd be safe and choose Other Guy. Bad idea! My hands shook and my voice cracked and my voice shook and my hands didn't crack, but they might as well have. I was terrible!
And I know that my FHE family doesn't care. They're my friends and like me just the way I am, and they don't mind that I can't sing to save my life. But I was so embarrassed! I wanted to run and hide. So I did.
Anyway, I guess I'm more shy than I thought. Oops!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011


Dear Sokphal,
I'm so excited to come see you in October. It will also be nice to see some of my other D.C. peeps, but you know that you are my bestie and it's going to be a blast.
Please tell PG to not go out of town, because I'm anxious to meet this great man in your life.
Also, let's please not go to that weird, naked spa, ok? I've already asked Martin Heinrich for a bunch of tour tickets instead.
Also, I think H&M is a must-stop, because you see, in the boonies of NM, we don't have it, and I'll need to get Pam a Christmas present.
OOH! Christmas shopping! Outlet malls! Or maybe not outlet malls. But I'm getting excited.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Misadventures in Tanning

Oh, tanning cream, why must our relationship be so difficult?
I appreciate that you give me a nice color without harmful UV rays, but why is it so hard for me to not miss spots in obvious places?
The latest fail was on my neck and chin. I just wanted to look a little less pasty, inspired by my nut-brown nieces who swim every day. Everything looked good until I looked up, and saw a white diamond from the underside of my chin down the front of my neck. I tried to compensate by filling in the spot with more tanning cream, but there's still a little bit of a color mis-match. I've taken to putting bronzing powder on my neck to avoid looking like "THAT girl" with the crazy makeup like. Oh, to be a bronzed goddess. Maybe in a few weeks.
What was really bad was last night I had a date with my friend Rudy. We went to Baskin Robbins for clown cones, and I'm pretty sure my white neck glowed in the harsh florescent lighting.
What was really worse, though, was that I met a nice, handsome chap right before. As we sat together and chatted, I tried my make sure my chin was pointed down, but not so far as to give me a double. I would have succeeded and come out smelling like a rose (because I'd used rose-scented makeup remover before to get rid of that awful tanning cream smell), but then Rudy came up and said, "Ready to go [on our date]?" New boy also probably wasn't too impressed when he saw R and I holding hands later (but anyone who knows us understands the R&R love is just as platonic as it gets!). Blast.
On the bright side, the tanning cream probably hid my blush when I told Rudy about how my WW friends suggested to burn off the Clown Cone Calories, I could just "exercise" after my date. Imagine my horror when I told them the gym would be closed and they laughed and said that's not what they meant.
It's days like these I think I should just escape to Hawaii for a couple of weeks and get myself a real tan.

Monday, June 13, 2011

A Patch of Blue

It's been a while since I've said anything scandalous, and I have a reputation to uphold.

The problem is, you have to be sensitive to people's privacy, and, of course, this is a family-friendly zone. I don't want to end up with a bunch of sick-o followers. Still, some stories are just too good to not be shared.

First of all, I have a friend. Let's call him Jim. A few years ago, Jim got his uh-oh pierced, and for some reason or other, everyone in the world knew about it. Yuck! I don't know what possesses people to piece certain body parts, but Jim's a bit of an attention-seeker, so I'm guessing that was it. Anyway, last week I asked Jim if he could come over and help me with some light bulbs that burnt out in my dormer light (this thing is impossible to get to, and J is the only person willing to climb up at 16-ft. ladder and risk life and limb so my entry-way is well-lit). He said he couldn't, because he was having surgery. On what? I asked.

J: I don't want to talk about it.
J: But let's just say it's not going to feel good having stitches is something that gets bigger and smaller.


There is, of course, more to this story, but I'm trying to keep things in the PG-range. Let's just say that between Jim and Congressman Weiner, there have been a lot of weenie jokes around the Sego household recently.

Also, because it's only fair that I poke fun at myself as well, I must admit I had a crazy dream last night. I'd rented a villa in Park City with this gun-toting fool I know from church. The thought of going on vacation with him is absolutely ridiculous, but that's a dream for you. Anyway, when we got there, it turned out there were several people we knew staying at this condo, including a couple of friends of mine who like to run around in little short, blue workout shorts (Air Force fellas, in case you didn't know). In real life a few weeks ago, I found these gents, shirtless, on the daybed in my bedroom, just for shock value. But in my dream, there they were, on another bed. Except one of them was wearing the shorts, and the other one... was stark naked! I, being the pure little girl that I am, only saw his backside in my dream, probably because I don't know what the front would look like, and EW. Anyway, I remember just shaking my head at these two, because they're so crazy, but then something FANTASTIC happened. Now, hang with me here... it's pretty innocent. I went into the bathroom and found their clothes on the floor. I picked them up because I hated the mess, but out of curiosity, I slipped one of the boys' pairs of pants on... and they were super loose! Talk about a REAL fantasy.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Friday, I'm in Love

Another little list of things that make me happy:

* "To Sir, With Love" starring Sidney Poitier and "Enchanted April" starring Miranda Richardson
* My new ironing board cover
* 94% fat-free popcorn
* Franki Valli and the Four Seasons playing at the office
* Teal toenail polish

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Things to Love About Summer

So, summer and I are not usually great friends.
I LOVE autumn and everything about it-- the crisp air, the cozy clothes, the bounty of the harvest... you know, all that fun stuff. Autumn makes me feel like everything is possible again (probably from all those new school year Septembers). But summer? It's so hot, and I'm not really outdoorsy. I don't know how to swim, so cooling off means staying in my office under the air conditioner. I don't look good in summery clothes, because 1) I'm into modesty and 2) I don't have the body for it.
HOWEVER, I'm turning over a new leaf (see, even my cliches are autumn-based). I've decided to love summer this year, and I have big plans for the next several months.
First of all, it's preparing for a fall ritual. Big news: The Boho Babes Boutique is moving to Artesia, New Mexico this year, and we're kicking around the idea of doing it in September rather than October. So in preparation for the big fall event, I've got to get making stuff. On the short-list this year are paper crowns, more of my upcycled lingerie, steampunk jewelry, a re-incarnation of the plastic bottle flower mirrors, and various linens created with the YuDu.
And don't think that I've forgotten about Christmas-- it's June, so it's on my mind. Mostly, I'm trying to get another round of family history documents formatted for the family's Christmas gift. This year I'm doing the life sketch of Aunt Babe. It should be a sweet little volume, but little books still take a long time to edit, format and bind. The sooner I get this behind me, the better. My mum also needs some help with a cookbook she's compiling. She wants to have nice ones made for all the kids for Christmas, but we're talking about selling them at the boutique as well, so I've got my transcribing and editing and binding work cut out for me. So yes, summer means getting a lot of projects done. I do have to say I love the extra daylight-- it helps me be productive.
Another thing that I'm always working on is turning myself into a super-model. Well, or something like it. You know what I mean. The weight-loss total as of Tuesday night was 22 lbs. It's a good beginning. I'm very rewards-driven, so I told myself when I hit the 2-5 I can start tanning again. I know, you cancer-warning naysayers-- but it gets me to the gym frequently, and I promise not to go for more than a couple of months. Just long enough to be bronzed through October (which means I can quit in August) for my trip to DC to see the bestie. I'm hoping to meet her special man, and I don't want him thinking her friend is an albino.
And when I get to the 30 lb mark? I really want this cruiser:

Yes, it's just a Huffy. Yes, it's just from Wal-Mart. Reuben, please don't think ill of me, oh Bike King. I just want a one-speed because I'm not fancy, and I can pretty much only ride it in my parents' neighborhood. It's affordable for a poor girl like me, and I think the (huge) seat will adjust down far enough that my legs can reach the pedals. I like that it's a woman's bike, and I like that it's mint green and brown. I like the big wheels, and I know it will look really good with a wicker basket on the front and a little bell on the handles. I like that I can brake with my feet. So this bike is keeping me going, even more than tanning.

I showed it to my dad, and he said, "But where would you ride it? We don't have sidewalks." He didn't seem to understand that you don't ride on sidewalks anyway, but then again, he didn't understand when I told him I'm thinking about taking an online course to become a certified wedding planner. The thing is, I've always wanted to do it, it's not too expensive, and I think I'd be good at it. Dad, who is in a bit of a Negative Ned mood, thinks the pressure is too high. But I need a little pressure, and I need a side business to supplement my insulation income (and support my bargain-shopping habits). More to come on this, but I'm really excited. I think I'll make the fee for the course my 35 lb reward.

So all-in-all, the long days are full of trips to flea markets and cleaning out closets (it's mostly happy that a lot of my pants are too big, though I wish I could spend my money on more stuff from Michaels and less on jeans), in addition to the long-fiberglass-filled days. I'm planning on helping the nieces have a lemonade stand around family-reunion time and I'm even trying to not be such a heat wimp and going outside a little more. Yeah. Me and summer. We're all right.