Prenatal Vitamins and the Art of Faking Conversation.

I've been trying to take Hair, Skin, Nails vitamins for a while now. They're glamour vitamins, similar to One-a-Days but with extra amounts of certain vitamins that make you look better. Some cheap HSNs contain only the "beautifying" vitamins, but I have been picking ones with the full range so my health doesn't suffer for my vanity.
Daily V's have always given me tummy aches, so it came as no surprise when the beefed up ones gave me wicked stomach cramps. Not the Boston version of 'wicked,' but the original, real meaning. These cramps were evil. Since the dosage was two pills, I split them up with my meals: one at breakfast, the other at lunch. I still would feel uncomfortable, though.
So, at a recent check-up, I happened to mention my issue and my doctor recommended Prenatals, but in a chewable, gummy version. She said that they are easier to digest (it is) while containing basically the same nutritional boost (it's pretty close).

On the way to Target a few days later, I started to tell my fiancé about what my doctor said. We had a convo that started with my story but then morphed into him also getting chewable vitamins in case the gumminess made taking a one-a-day more tempting/easier for him to take, too.
We spent half and hour to gather $80 worth of crap, of which ten minutes of that time as spent in a vitamin isle. I noticed Tim was acting strangely during this time but thought nothing of it because of how much he dislikes going to Target. I just figured he was cranky.
We bought our items, grabbed our two bags & paper towels, and headed to the car. When we were out of earshot from toddlers and their pearl clutching mothers, Tim nudged me with the edge of his bag and, in a deliberately calm voice, asked, "What the hell?"
Assuming I'd missed something epically Orange Trashy County or classically Long Ghetto Beach, I began looking around me curiously. "What happened?!" I replied. 

"Are you pregnant?" He asked with an edge to his voice.

I stared at him, confused and 'getting it' at the same time - which is a very strange feeling. 

"You're talking about the pre-natals?"

"Yeah."

"Remember when we were in the car talking about what we were planning on buying and we started talking about vitamins?"

He nodded.

"Did you tune me out for a little bit before that?"

His intensely serious facial expression softened as he remembered and his eyes had the faraway look of connecting dots. 

"Tim, honey," I said. "You are really good at tuning me out while convincingly faking a conversation."

As we climbed into the car, I told the whole story again, laughing at his sheepish responses. I clowned him for not hearing me, teasing him about learning a lesson. But I wonder if it was a lesson learned or a hole in the development of a practiced talent.

Oh, The Things We Do When We're In Love (With Ourselves).

I was running incredibly late this morning; I didn't even make it onto the freeway until ten minutes before I was supposed to be at work. Half an hour later, I sat at my desk with nothing to do but eat breakfast and drink tea and I started thinking about how I should do my make-up. To be fair, there were no emails to attend to yet.

I hate the lighting in the bathrooms here, but there's really bright sunlight dancing through the windows in the pattern room, right by my desk - perfect for draping as well as for reasons of vanity. I decided I would finish getting ready in the comfort of my pattern space. I had my makeup kit from my purse, and I decided to use the camera on my tablet as a mirror. I stood the tablet against the left side of my computer and adjusted the lighting settings to accommodate the ultra-brightness. I applied a light powder and a little mascara - not a dramatic project. Afterwards, I adjusted the lighting again so that the camera would be ready to use the next time my dog is does something so adorable that I just have to take a video and therefore the camera must be ready. Yes, that happens a lot, so the settings must be perfect beforehand or, heaven forbid, I can't add an adorable moment to my Brody Bear digital collection. I realize I'm neurotic, I just don't care.

So, after that, I went back to eating oatmeal and trying  to go through email, but I kept finding myself distracted by the image of myself. My hair was too flat, and unable to guide my attention to anything else but the lack of oomph in my hair, I put work aside and began fluffing away at it. After I'd played with my hair for way, way too long, I went back to my oatmeal again. Only then, did I notice I'd accidentally been filming myself since I adjusted the light settings the second time. I started cracking up and had  to watch it right away. I am vain to a point of sheer goofiness. I've been laughing at my geekery all morning and wasn't to spread the self love.

Here's the link to the video, because of course I posted that ish to ze youtubes:

Watch "Adventures of Patternmaking Vanity Table"

"I'm like a Mythical Creature. I'M A UNICORN."

A friend is throwing a 'Welcome to the Jungle" Party - a themed costume party where everyone in attendance must arrive dressed up as an animal of some kind, real or mythical. Obviously, I intend to go as a unicorn. Whenever mythical creatures are encouraged at a costume party, at least one unicorn should be in attendance. This time 'round, that crazy individual should be me.

The party is next week. Am I prepared? No. I do not have a costume at this time. My only inspiration? THIS:

I keep telling myself that I'll get to this. I will, I swear. I must!

...to be continued...

Update: I finished the costume yesterday in a record 2 hours. I must admit, though; it was a bit slapdash.

Who is the rude one? Conversation Sandwich.

Sometimes it is so apparent how socially awkward I am that I wonder if I should take the Asburgers test online again. I find myself in situations wherein I feel incredibly uncomfortable but everyone else is so nonchalant, that I wonder if it's just me with the problem...

Say someone is standing some place while waiting in line or at the water cooler filling up his/her giant water bottle, and two people, strangers to the first person, walk over already in the midst of conversation. Then, these people walk in different directions for different reasons - someone is at the sink and someone is at the microwave - but they continue to converse despite the fact a person with ears was already there quietly and is now sandwiched between them. These people continue to have what should be a private conversation, talking through this person as if he/she were not even there.

Is that considered to be eaves dropping? It better not be. I mean, there's nowhere to go in this situation. I can't tune out what's being said over my head as I wait for the impossibly slow water to trickle my bobble bottle full. What is appropriate? I am allowed to join in with, "yeah, dude, you should probably see a doctor and a lawyer about that." Would that exacerbate the level of rudeness or reflect the awkward vibes they threw my way?

I didn't say that, but if I had, would I be rude? Who is rude in the conversation sandwich, the meat or the bread?

Training

To give a clear idea of how much of one's personal life is lost in preparation for fashion week (if you're on a Runway Team), in two weeks, I will be turning 30. I have not planned a party - there is simply no point. I don't have the time or energy to plan one and I wouldn't enjoy it even if someone else planned it because I'd be yawning and coming down off a whole week of 12 hour daily anxiety highs. I'll be expected to be here on Saturdays. I will be expected to be here late every night. I will lose my sense of self for a month and a half.

And then it will be over.

It sounds horrible, and it can feel pretty low, at times. The thing is, I am one of a whole team of people who sincerely love what we do. We are perfectionists. We understand that when we push ourselves beyond the mental boundaries we've set for ourselves, that we can truly create art. It's not easy, or it wouldn't be impressive enough to send down a runway,  catch the attention of top publications, and to be reviewed and promoted by them, as well. You are only as good as your last season, so if you aren't unique and artistic, you aren't relevant. That requires a lot of creativity, time, and energy of many people. I'm just one of them.

My goal is, when the show has run, to throw myself a belated birthday party. At that point I can revel and be the Birthday Girl. It's fine, it's not great, but it is fine. How many other people can hang onto their twenties for an extra month?!


Anyway, at a meeting recently, I warned my whole team that I will not be available the Sunday before the show because that is the date of my marathon that I've been training for. Someone turned to me skeptically and asked how I've had time to train for a marathon when I've literally starved a couple times because I did not have time to go grocery shopping mid-week. The stores all closed before I had left work.

I explained that during the summer months, I'd woken up at 6:00, and ran 3 miles everyday before work. Unfortunately I had to discontinue that practice during the winter months because it is too dark at that time, making it unsafe time for a woman to go jogging in an urban environment. Instead, I wake up early on Saturday and run seven miles. Then, on Sunday, I have an hour long spin class, afterwards I cross train for an hour, and then I have an hour of yoga. On Tuesdays, I cross train for 2+ hours, and on Thursdays I swim laps for an hour. My gym is open 24 hours, so I go immediately after work on those days.

I guess I hadn't really understood how much effort I was putting into my health. Hearing myself say it out loud and looking at it now, I am proud of myself. Not only have I kept up with something important to me, created a rigorous lifestyle so gradually that I hadn't even noticed how much I'd adapted to it, and am in great physical health despite many set backs in recent years, but I have created a boundary where work was not allowed to impede. Despite the job I love being so demanding that I'm postponing celebrating my Birthday, I still have the ability to keep work in its place, something I'd feared not being able to do in the past.

To top it off, I have no resolutions that I can think of. Except maybe to teach myself French. And brush up on my math skillz on the Khan Class. Just because I'm 30 and never use Algebra is no reason to forget it. Also, I should really write more. I guess there's always room for resolutions...

Note to Self

At approximately 6:28 pm PST, while flying above a twinkling Midwest (2 hours yet from LAX), it occurred to me that I must remember to ask my vegan cousins and aunt what nutritional supplement they would use to replace fish oil. I am suddenly very curious.

I had a really badass idea for a top...

...and then I woke up and couldn't remember how it looked when I finally found a pencil and paper.

And now I can't sleep.

Bah.