Looking the Part

I can't remember where I read it at, but somewhere in the blogosphere I read an article about things you should/shouldn't do in your attempt at acting like a grown up.  Things like taking a book or your kindle with you so when you have to wait you'll appear like you're doing some worthwhile and not just Tweeting on your phone (I am so guilty of this).  Another point I remember from the article was something about tucking your shirt in and wearing glasses because it makes you look schmancy smart.  I was reminded of this post as I picked out what I'm wearing tomorrow in hopes that I won't tear apart my closet in the morning.

Tomorrow is my first day interning/volunteering at B.  I'll be doing a variety of things ranging from front desk customer service, giving tours, and setting up meetings and weddings and marketing for B's events and venue.  It's a small gig, four hours a week and it's unpaid obviously.  The big thing about it though is this is the first gig I've gotten that directly ties in with my hospitality degree.

So of course I have to look the part.

Here's the thing about me.  I've gotten to the point where I enjoy dressing up in something other than athletic shorts, a tshirt and trainers or jeans, a tshirt and trainers.  The problem?  Finding clothes that fit and look right that aren't athletic shorts, tshirts, jeans or trainers or my beloved hunting boots.  I am a self proclaimed problematic picky shopper.

Let's start with my feet.  Big and wide feet, the Johnson Woman Curse.  Check it.  Every single woman in my family that is a blood Johnson has big and wide feet. I've come to find specific places in the Wichita area that has trainers that are relatively well priced and are comfortable.  However, on the other end not so much.  I've spend entire days in shoe stores trying on dress shoes and flats to find just one pair that my big fat feet fit in that I can wear all day, walk in them without blisters and still not hate myself at the end of the day.  I have had no such luck so far.  I should be thankful that I have a pair of flats that I can pass as work appropriate even though they are in the color of glitter.  The pair of low heels I have, the ones that are also slip resistant so I can wear them in a kitchen, are good as long as I don't need to do a bunch of walking because I trip out of them easily like when I first toured B's.

Next: pants.   I've finally been able to find nice slacks that are wide enough for my waist/hips and don't drain the bank account.  However, it means that they are a few inches short.  I've always had this problem with pants so it's no surprise that I'm having to deal with this.  This is why I've been so focused on trying to find dresses or skirts in my size that hit my legs just right so I don't have to fuss about finding pants long enough. I mean, give me a pair of thick stockings to go with my dress and I'll be set for the rest of winter.

Shirts are the second frustrating thing to shop for after shoes.  My shoulders make it damn near impossible to find blouses that fit right but don't look over sized.  I have man shoulders basically and it's a pain in the ass to shop for cute feminine blouses when the shoulders make it impossible to put both arms into the shirt at once.  Oh, and let's not forget that I'm super picky about shirt length too, so there's another for the list.

Even though I have this long list of issues that makes me a super problematic shopper for anything clothing related, I really enjoy dressing like a professional.  I know it's me growing up finally and accepting that not every place will let me wear jeans and boots to work on the daily.  I think I also really like the idea of making myself appear all put together and confident when really my life is a mess and I think I'm going to trip going up the stairs at B's every time I have to give a tour.  I like looking the part, it's fun!

I Know I Ramble

I called my bestie of fifteen years last night, as I mentioned in yesterday's post briefly, and we talked for about ten minutes before she had to run off for a meeting.  In this short amount of time I updated my bestie A on all nerdy things I've been obsessed with recently.

Let me take you back to middle school Jess for a few moments.  I've always been a reader, and when I found Harry Potter some where around the sixth grade I became obsessed.  My obsession was....well, I was a crazy fangirl now that I think about it.  I've never labeled myself as a fangirl of something before, but looking back, that is definitely the term that needs to be used.  I was so obsessed with the books and movies and everything related to the Harry Potter culture that it's kind of embarrassing.  Bestie A was there through it all.  She listened to me ramble on and on about my theories (because remember, the series wasn't finished at this time) while we rode the bus to school in the morning.

I've definitely calmed down a lot since freshman year of high school.  But I still ramble about nerdy stuff.  I ramble a lot in general.

Last night A heard all about Torchwood and my condensed thoughts on season three and four (because I just have so much to say about each of these seasons).  And how I cried about Tosh and Owen and had a fit about Ianto.  Actually, the whole Torchwood conversation happened because I mentioned something about how attached I get to characters.

In the middle of talking I realized what I was doing and told A that I was sorry for rambling but she just laughed and I continued talking.

I know I ramble.  I know not all my friends like syfy stuff like I do, or get way too attached to characters. I get it.  But it's always nice to have someone who will let you ramble for hours minutes about these things because they know it's something you like.

I have a skype date with A tomorrow evening and I fully intend on finishing my thoughts on why I get so attached to characters...which will probably end up with another crash course in all things Torchwood and me trying to explain the vortex manipulator and why I find the blowfish so funny.

Broken

Today has been a roller coaster.  I woke up to a message of news that a family friend and Legionnaire had died late last night.  I couldn't get my car out to make it to class.  The positive was going to see my hip surgeon for my three year follow up. Oh, and I guess getting two and half chapters of my hospitality textbook knocked out of the reading park was a positive while I had to wait for my surgeon.

I'm pretty terrible with making phone calls.  I put them off for a super long time until I absolutely have to make it and then I'm super anxious about it.  I was so happy with the follow with my surgeon that I was waiting impatiently on the drive home to get home and call my close friends to share the news.

The second call I made was to a friend I haven't talked to in months.  I used to feel guilty about not making more of an effort (more than the attempts that I had tried) to get in touch with him.  This friend had helped me through one of the toughest months I ever faced last year.  He was so patient with me when I cried, nope, actually I sobbed a few nights when I was feeling really down.  I shared with him my background with my medical problems and how I was feeling so pressured to be the "good" patient even though I was told to live my life like I didn't have a prosthesis.  He was patient and was an excellent listener (something that I was lacking at this point in my life).  I don't know how many hours he listened to me talk and put up with snotty and teary Jess.  Not only did he listen to me but he also asked me questions that others hadn't and I felt comfortable being vulnerable and answering with true honest answers instead of the sugar coated answers I tend to give out.

When I called this friend I told him about my follow up and we talked about how happy we were about the whole thing and about some of the awesome things I've done in the last three years.  He then asked me how I was doing in general.  I had told him a few months ago I had been struggling with a lot of different stuff so I knew he was going to ask this question.  I surprised myself by telling him the truth.  That I'm okay. I'm doing better than I was and that I'm trying to stay positive.  I didn't think or mediate about how I was going to reply.

This may not seem all that special but I've got a habit of hiding how broken I am.  Sarah wrote this lovely post that I was able to relate to about how there are different kinds of brokenness.  For me, I have a super hard time identifying when I'm broken.  Part of that is because I've trained myself for years to hide it and put on a smile.  It makes it even more difficult to be honest with my friends when I'm feeling broken because as I've realized today, sometimes I'm broken so much that I can't handle it on my own and I need a friend to lean on.

One of my favorite quotes is from Doctor Who:

We all change.  When you think about it, we're all different people all through our lives and that's okay, that's good.  You've got to keep moving, so long you remember all the people you used to be.

As I explained to my best friend of fifteen years (besties since kindergarten, we've been through it all) I'm not the same person that I was two years ago.  That's great because it means I'm growing as a person and I'm starting to become the person that God wants me to be.  On the flip side, I can't forget the person I was two years ago because it's a part of me, it's my history of who I am.

The fact that I didn't need to think of a sugar coated response to "How are you doing?" shows that I'm changing. I would even go as far as to say that I'm starting to heal some of the brokenness that I've been feeling the last year and a half. That, to me, is a really good feeling.

I'm Done with Winter

Who do I need to contact to cancel winter?  I'm sure someone around here has the phone number.  Oh, what's that you say? I have to go in person to file a complaint? Well, I guess it won't happen today because winter has me stuck at home with the new layer of snow that was delivered last night.

Last week was kind of fun. We got about five inches at our house and I had fun riding to town with my brother to pick up Ma's medicines and grab bread.  It was like the stories Bill used to tell me about the winters he experienced when he was a little kid out in western Kansas.  The stories about how the highways got shut down because you couldn't see across the road let alone in front of your vehicle, how they put stranded motorists in the church for the duration of the winter storms.  Best of all, classes were cancelled!

But now it's just ridiculous.

Five inches of snow with temperatures that had been staying around 9 degrees as a high meant that hardly any of the snow melted.  A lot of the major roads in our area were still snow packed and slick.  I think I might have seen a small patch of green grass the other day.

You know, before winter attacked again.

I know this is hardly like any of the winter storms we've had before but I've had my share of snow for the season.  Let's get back to business as normal, yeah? That'd be great.