Oh you know, I just work for the state now. I've entered a whole new world of cubicles and paper shuffling, 401k's and health insurance. With a full time job you learn so many different things. Things I never new existed, like dismemberment insurance is very real and the most graphic of all the insurances. Oh yeah, and I wear slacks now.

I've been a little out of the loop for awhile. So here are all the important thoughts, realizations and events that have happened in the last few weeks:

Working in an office is awkward. Not funny- awkward like The Office or Office Space, just awkward.

When is it a good time to get everyone offensive coffee mugs? {via}

"I'm going to get in the best shape of my life!" then realizing you said that last summer. And it's on your blog for everyone to see.

I maybe a year older and leaping my way toward thirty, but my skin is holding on to my prepubescent years one horrible blemish at a time.

The hardest thing I've ever done: trying to stop eating so poorly. They should really have a twelve step program for cupcake and vanilla latte addicts.

Sometimes rock bottom is a face full of cream puff in a secluded parking lot. {via}

At what age do you become an Old Maid? And the term "Ape leader" is offensive.

The future? Could be worse... {via}

Paid holidays off are a real thing.

Driving slowly past a store to check out a party dress in the window. Realizing too late that the short, middle-aged, grinning man on the sidewalk thinks you slowed down to check him out.

Hot town, it’s summer in the city.

It’s been hot. Like really hot.

When I moved into my apartment almost a year ago, I was told the building didn’t have central air. If you wanted air conditioning you needed a window unit, “Well, it doesn’t get that hot in Wisconsin, I’ll just save the money.” Seriously, nothing makes you feel more alive than an apartment without air conditioning. It’s like your own personal detox spa (without the colon cleansing). If I didn’t get out all the toxins this week, they're staying for the long haul.

Scientific drawling of a toxin {via}

Weather and I have always had a weird relationship (as you can imagine, that pretty much describes every relationship I’ve been apart of since I was eighteen). From attacking my umbrellas to sporadically burning my pastey skin some sunny days but not others, to hiding icy death traps, and my favorite, creating sudden tornado gusts on skirt days, Weather and I could write an article of warning signs for bad relationships. It's like the worst boyfriend you’ve ever had. Kind of like what I would expect dating Richard Simmons would be like.

Say what you will, but that guy's got the gams {via}

In front of people, he'll let you borrow his dolfin shorts and be all fun, dramatic and sweaty, but behind closed doors? He'll choke a bitch. Haven’t you seen the Richard Simmons outtake video? No? Oh alright...


During the end of the fall season this last year, I went out and bought a “northern coat.” It was full of downy feathers and was reviewed as a must have of surviving a Wisconsin winter. As I zipped the coat up and tied the sash, instantly sweating, I smugly thought, “OK winter, do your worst.” About a month later, as I was walking home from school, winter smacked the smugness right off my face with a blizzard.  To say it was horrible would be an understatement. At one point during what seemed like a lifetime journey through winter wonderland hell, I was certain I wasn’t going to make it. About three steps later, I was ready to give up on life.

Made it home with a chunk of ice frozen to my lashes.

Fast forward to about a week ago. I was on the phone with my dad telling him that I thought summer was over in Madison, “The weather keeps getting colder and colder. I guess it’s time for fall!’’ This is the forecast for this week:

Getting warmer...

suffocation

Oh sure, it looks beautiful outside. All sunny and green, until you walk out there. It's like regressing into a sticky four year old, you may not know why you're sticky but that's your new reality (seriously, why are little kids so sticky?).

But really I’m not so egocentric as to think the Mother of all nature is just waiting for my sass and taunts to strike with a storm or excessive heat backlash. The entire Midwest is being affected. It's not my fault.
(Actually that’s exactly what I’m saying. Mother Nature is clearly a firm believer in corporal punishment. From now on I’m going to keep my weather opinions to myself.)

OK, I’m going to put down my stick because that summer weather horse is a goner.

Customer service, so we meet again.

That’s right world. I am employed once again. What does seven years college education get you?
Oh you know, just a customer representative gig at a large corporate retailer (which shall remain nameless). Jealous?

"My name is Amber, and here's how I do. I got nonstop hotness, hardcore learning disabilities, constant horniness, and I'm rockin' one leg... All I want is some medicine for my ringworm, and a cool-ass face tattoo. What-what?!" {SNL}

I hate the saying, “First impressions mean everything,’’ mostly because I like to think of myself as open- minded and non- judgemental. But when it comes to employment, first impressions mean a-hell-of-alot and recently a few things caught my attention.

Let’s get some examples up in here.

During orientation, at the new employment, we watched an educational video on the evils of unionization. While I tend to think using social networking pages to express political views is pointless, and even a little tacky (this is coming from a girl who refuses to use Twitter because it encourages narcissism, but has a facebook page with thirty, carefully edited, photo albums... Might seem just little bit ironic? Oh just shut it, Alanis), let’s get out the puff paint unicorn shirt and get political.

Turn right if you please. {via}

My dad has been an active union man since I can remember. So the first impression of my employer was not so good. As I watched the 20- minute- plus- video on how unions use clever trickery to steal your money and take way workers rights, all I wanted to do was dramatically rip off my badge, kick over a few chairs, and spew some colorful sailor talk as I stormed out. But being an unemployed liberal hero isn’t going to make my bank account any fuller. So I did my best to tune out the propaganda video and turned my attention to the company handbook to find some saving grace.

And I did.

My employer may be owned by misinformed, big business, dingle bats, but they do have high standards: Lycra pants are a dress code violation. Disapproval of lycra? Now that’s a company I can get behind.

Unless you're Bon Jovi {via}

Moving on. My past managers, stemming all the way back to my banquet serving days, seem to be cut from the same piece of bread. The easiest way to explain it: they all look like they spend a great deal of time listening to Barry White and gazing into a bathroom mirror for their daily affirmation.


With customer service jobs, your coworks make a huge difference. I've always been really lucky to get incredibly nice people to work with. But speaking of first impressions, sometimes they stunt coworker friendships.

For example, if a coworker is wearing a black, velcro, digital watch, I always assume they spend their off hours playing Dungeons and Dragons or collecting Samurai swords. While perhaps an unfair character assessment, I feel completely unable to start up a casual conversation without the urge to ask them how many comic book conventions they've attended.
(Yes, this does make me feel like a horrible person. Reformation...tedious business). Not that this makes it any better but I'm not the only one to think this is nerdy Check it Here.

In conclusion, "first impression" is just short hand for, "I'm judging you unfairly... especially if you're wearing lycra pants."

This summer I’m going to get in the best shape of my life.

Every summer’s the same. Each year around this time I decide I’m going to get into shape and vigorously start working out. It usually lasts until about September and then the school year starts and I get bogged down with coursework and my workout regime goes right out the window.

It’s never been a problem in the past because I’ve never been really overweight and my unhealthy ability to deal with stress has kept me pretty thin (Hooray for stress!). Most months in the year my idea of exercise is driving to Bed Bath and Beyond to sit in their massage chairs.

"The Gym"

Don’t get me wrong I've had my chunkier stages growing up but never really noticeably overweight. But let’s face it, I'm 25 and my metabolism has no where to go but down and I’d prefer my ass to not sag down to my knees by the time I hit thirty.

Now is the time to get serious about working out and stop letting my fervent sweet tooth dictate snack time.

I love you

For the past four weeks I've been trying to run 3-4 times a week. And just recently I started going to a yoga studio. I've always been a little hesitant about trying yoga. In my horribly naive, uninformed mind I thought I would change into "Nature Girl," start a potato farm and stop shaving my armpits.


That's not really the case. It's actually been really good strength training and is kind of calming.

However, in my first class I was positioned by a women whose armpits looked like they had dish scrubbers glued to them. Think:

But besides a bit of armpit hair, the yoga class have been (not to get too weird) enlightening. I'm keeping my fingers crossed on sticking with it.
Check out this lady. She's now in her 90s (the video is a few years old), a yoga instructor and looking awesome!