364 Days

My future husband proposed to me on July 3rd. It was amazing. It is now September 20th. It is 364 days until my wedding. My beautiful, glorious, super fun wedding…that has so far done nothing but stress me out super hard core. Which is weird, because I am a planner. I have people over, I throw back yard parties, I host Magic the Gathering drafts, etc, etc, etc. I love to plan events and I have always done a good job. But this? This is different. A wedding? Holy crap! It is the biggest, most important, most overwhelming thing I have ever tried to plan. And why is that? One word. One word only. MONEY.

I first intended to have a back yard-bbq-rustic-nerdy-classy-amazeballs shindig of a wedding…..for $5,000.00. Now, that might have been doable if the guest list was 50 people. But it isn’t. My groom and I have huge families, lots of extended family, lots of friends. So, the first round guest list was over 225 people. And once those numbers were entered into the budget spreadsheet (yes, THE BUDGET SPREADSHEET. We have one, it calculates stuff for us, it’s glorious and super helpful. I’ll link you to it in a later post, I promise!) the cost of the wedding had sky rocketed to over $15,000. This is the point where, over tacos and margaritas with my mother, I totally shut down. Right out of the gate, our first “wedding planning meeting” at our favorite Mexican joint, I sat stony faced while my mind exploded over the fact that my wedding was going to cost more than my Nissan Cube, and $10,000.00 more than I even had to spend on it.

So now what? What the heck do I do now? My back yard-bbq-rustic-nerdy-classy-amazeballs shindig was falling apart before it was even planned! Mom and I finished our tacos and margaritas and went home with a plan to trim the guest list and review our personal finances to see where we land. It took nearly four weeks to land that bird. During that time I cried, I drank wine, I cried into the wine, I had long talks with my groom, with mom, with my bridesmaids, and with myself. We looked at the budget to see what things we could cut out, we looked at our finances to see where we could squeeze out extra money, we looked at the guest list to see who could get axed without it being too big of a deal. After a time, Mom came up with more money. The groom came up with more money. The budget climbed higher and the guest list descended from the clouds and, while the guest list is still quite large, they have more or less met in the middle. Some unimportant things were cut from the budget entirely and more focus given to the things we do really care about. We settled on numerous DIY projects. We have friends and family who offered up various things and services because they love us and they are amazing. The guest list is 125-150. The budget now lands around $10k…which still freaks me out so much…but I’m dealing…as best I can.

The back yard-bbq-rustic-nerdy-classy-amazeballs shindig is going to happen. It is going to be, well, amazeballs! Now the challenges that lie ahead are all the “fun things”. The projects and the planning (because planning is fun!). Figuring out how to inject the rustic-classy with enough nerdiness to make it our own. Figuring out how to accomplish the back yard-bbq without it becoming too redneck. The dress. The music. The food and booze. The decor. And dealing with the pressure and the feelings of “selfishness vs gratefulness” I feel over the mass amounts of money being spent and things being gifted for this day. (ok, the pressure and feelings of selfishness are not the “fun things”, but dealing with it is no less important.)

I have 364 days. Wish me luck.

My brain…this is what it’s like in there.

Text message conversation between me and a friend:

Me: Do you ever have a craving for something random and think “OMG I could totally go for some Crystal Burgers right now….I MUST BE KNOCKED UP!” But then you think “No, I’m not knocked up, crystal burgers are just tasty and I’m starving. And possibly low on iron. ”

Friend: YES!! Remember the pickles last week?

Me: Bahaha, that’s right!

Friend: And I was like but wait…I just really like pickles.

Me: I really want a weird fast food burger and fries. Or Taco Bell.

Friend: OMG I love Taco Bell!!

Me: I just didn’t have enough protein at breakfast so I’m hungry and when I’m hungry like this I always want something funky. As opposed to the healthy choice thing I brought for lunch. But then I’m like ::begin internal monologue:: “but I’ll never lose weight if I eat Taco Bell as much as I want. But it’s for the irrational imaginary baby, so maybe it’s ok? I’m already fat, I’ll just tell the Taco Bell people it’s for the baby and they won’t judge me because they aren’t educated enough to know the difference between fat and pregnant. Wow that was really demeaning to Taco Bell employees. What if they have a master’s degree and just can’t find a job because the economy sucks so they got a job at Taco Bell just to pay the bills. Good for them for doin’ what they gotta do! Can you tip Taco Bell employees? But what if they are just pretending to be educated to get tips because they are scam artists and do know the difference between fat and pregnant because they’ve had so many illegitimate children. How will I tell the difference? Maybe the educated ones will have proper nails and not those crazy 5 inch long neon fake nails. I wonder if they get taco meat under those nails. How unsanitary. Note to self to get some handy wipes to keep in the car for when I go to Taco Bell. Jeez, I’m kinda judgmental today. It must be the irrational imaginary baby hormones.”

Friend: I’m not sure how to respond to that.

Me: I’m not either.

Being a Noob and Having Boobs: Its Tough out There for New Folks in Magic

My boyfriend and I started playing MTG last October, just around 6 months ago, not too long after the Theros block started.  For the first few months we just played at the kitchen table and bought booster packs and drank beer and had fun.  It turned out that a few of our friends also dabbled in Magic and they started coming over to play as well.  We developed a little play group and usually sit around and drink and eat and listen to some tunes and bullshit and play Commander all day or run multiplayer games and just have fun.   Then we decided to start playing more competitively and up our game so we started going to Friday Night Magic.

The first shop we played at was not at all a fun experience.   Having boobs and being a noob made for a bad time.

Being a girl there was a problem.  The first time I walked into the shop with my BF there was a collective silence that was so thick I could have cut it with my stiletto heel.  (That’s a joke; I didn’t really wear stilettos to the hobby shop!).  No one ever outright said “Get out of here, your vagina is harshing our sausage fest buzz”, but that’s probably because no one would really even speak to me.  There were kids like Dirt Lip (no idea of the kid’s name at all), who had a baby mustache because he couldn’t have been older than 16.  He couldn’t even speak enough to me to say his name, much less announce his phases.  I constantly had to ask him “what?” and “excuse me” and “I didn’t hear you speak up” and if his eyes were lasers my tits would have been burned straight through to the other side.  I get it that there’s a large age range in this game, and that teenage boys are full of hormones and to top it all off there’s a drastic level of awkward-antisocial-nerdom happening as well.  But really.  It was a bit much.  And he wasn’t the only one to do this.  He was just the only one who gets a pass for being young, as all the rest who had this problem were over the legal drinking age.  There were also the eye rolls and hanging of heads and snickering glances to their friends when my name would appear next to theirs on the pairing list.  And if the opponent was comfortable enough to actually talk to me it was patronizing and weird and overly polite to the point of condescension.  All of these things made for an uncomfortable situation on their part, which in turn made me uncomfortable, and from there the comfortableness would just bounce back and forth between us until it plus-one’d itself into 10/10 flying deathtouch Rakdos Minotaur Overlord of Awkward.  Really, it wasn’t fun.  It was off putting.  And it was mildly offensive.

More so than the girl thing, there was the noob thing.  As previously mentioned I just started playing in late October.  And given the fact that I have no prior experience with any sort of gaming outside of being crazy good at Battleship and Monopoly, one could say I am a SUPER NOOB.  And being a Super Noob was not what one would call Kosher at this shop.

Now, being someone who has other talents and hobbies (cooking, card making, and scrap booking) who has led (a few) workshops on those things, I recognize that being someone with more knowledge it is my responsibility to help other people grow in their area of interest and I should never, not even once, make someone feel smaller or less than or bad about themselves for being new, or less talented, or making cards or scrapbook pages with ugly paper.  Our previous shop was full of really good players. People with extremely expensive top 8 decks and net-decks and who clearly possessed a wealth of money and knowledge about the game and how to play it.  They were all very serious about playing and the atmosphere was tense and serious all the time.  And they had absolutely zero time for noobs.   It was pretty much “Oh I’m playing a noob?  Let’s see how fast I can get this over with and go back to talking about building my new modern deck.”  The last round I played there I got paired with this guy with an amazing deck and who played competitively.  When the round started he was in the middle of making trades (with the guy who always showed up at FNM halfway through the night with trade binders but never actually played.  He was rather like a drug dealer hitting up his customers halfway through a bender hoping to score some late night cash and unload some product one more time before everyone OD’s.  “Come on, you know you want just one more copy of Xenagos…look…I even have a foil…you know you want it…”).  Nearly 20 minutes later I was still sitting at the table watching the pair next to me enter into their second hand when the guy finally found it within himself to come over and start the game (only after the judge’s insistence).  Granted, I didn’t mind so much as the deck I had brought was pretty terrible and I was having a bad night as far as cards and I was super over the entire thing, but it was annoying and rude none the less.  Needless to say I was more interested in bailing in favor of tacos and beer than I was playing at that point, so I didn’t put forth much effort and he took 7 minutes to beat my ass into the ground over two hands.  He promptly, and without ceremony, went back to trading.

There were a few nice people…like the guy who smelled like cheese and would talk to anyone about how to improve upon their deck with mechanics that were always way over my head and “here look in my awesome trade binder for examples of what I possess and what you need”.

It was after the night I nearly got a win for no other reason that some jack-wagon couldn’t be bothered to play, that we decided to try to find another shop.  Luckily enough a week later we were in Target buying booster packs and ran in to a fellow who told us about a shop near our house.  We decided to check it out, and it’s a little hole in the wall, redneck card shop next to a dive bar/pool-hall.  And it has been so much fun so far.  The people are all super nice and most are pretty chatty.  I have never, not even once, gotten the feeling that my being a girl is a thing.  The one young kid I have played made a valiant effort to stay cool and look me in the eye.  I kind of wanted to chuck him on the shoulder and tell him he did a great job being cool in front of a girl.  But I didn’t, because it would be patronizing and weird and I don’t roll like that.  More than anything, the people at this shop really want to help other people learn the game and become better players.  They have offered to help us build decks with the cards we currently have, several people give suggestions after the rounds are over for plays that could have gone better or cards that would improve the deck.  And it’s never with any dickish tone; it’s always just “hey, so this might help you out next time…”  And even though in the few weeks I’ve played there I haven’t come higher than 2^nd to last while playing they still say “just keep playing and working on it and have fun and you will get better!”

It might seem a small and silly thing, but for a new player who is still a little nervous and afraid of making a total fool of herself outside of the kitchen table, it means a lot to be surrounded with that sort of attitude and atmosphere.  The difference really is amazing.  Good on ya little redneck card shop, good on ya!

I suck at Blogging

Yep.  I have fallen victim to the trap that most people who say they are “totally going to be a blogger” fall in to.  I wrote 4 posts and then didn’t give a shit anymore.  Oopps.

 

In the meantime, 2 years later….

I had 2 new jobs, got a (amazing and awesome) steady boyfriend, learned more about how to cook, gained back all the weight I lost on Weight Watchers, started losing some weight again, grew up a lot, and started playing Magic the Gathering.

 

So…I promise to try to do better about blogging.  Really I do.  I have the freaking free time to do it.  SO why the eff not?  (ohhhh I’m probably making people who blog for real look so bad…I’m the bad egg of the blogosphere…oh well, sucks for them to have to share the internet with the likes of me.)

 

❤ High Strung Gemini

 

Like a rock n’ roll lightening bolt, I’m ready to strike.

The title of this blog post is from a line in a song I heard while getting dressed one morning.  It was the opening music for some B movie and that I am pretty sure didn’t do well in the theatres and is now playing on ABC family becuase they can get rights to it for cheap, despite the fact that it has major stars in it.  That, however, is not the point.  The point is that I related to this one line so hardcore that it make me stop in mid motion while putting my shirt on and think “wow, that sounds like me right now”.  Isn’t it funny how that happens?   Maybe it is only because I have super fun things planned coming in the next 2 weeks, but I feel really great right now.  I genuinely feel like I can accomplish all the crap I have planned for this year.  A lot of it is material based.  Things like buying a new bed and a computer and a flat screen TV to mount on the wall.  And a new couch and a suit of actual bedroom furniture.  But more important than that, I have things planned for my actual life.  Thinsg like continuing my weight loss journey, making more money and being happier in my career, and, even though I don’t really want to admit it, maybe finding someone that I could potentionally settle down with in the future (so like, start dating someone that has actual potential).  So, here is a run down of how those things are going so far in the first few months of the year:

 

NOTHING MAJOR HAS HAPPENED.

 

Yet still I feel like things are off to a good start.  I have not blogged since November, mostly because I feel like I may not really have a blogging type of voice.  Someone told me recently that she thinks I would have a wonderful blogging voice so I have been reading several different blogs and paying attention to how they right and what they say.  I have found that most of the ones I really like aren’t about anything.  Just normal day-to-day things that are either important to them or so hilarious that they just HAVE to share.  I can totally do that.  I guess I am at this very moment.

 

Other than trying to decide if I really want to blog and worry about if anyone actually wants to read what I have to say (which will probably be stupid shit about stupid crap that happens in my life), I am just living life day to day and making the best of whatever comes.  Lately I have been filled with an overwhelming sense of thankfulness for all that I have.  I have been blessed with an amazing family (mom, stepdad, dad, step mom, and a whole host of relatives and extended family).   I have AH-MAZING friends who I consider to be my family and who fill my life with joy every single fucking day that I exist.  I have food on my table, a roof over my head, and enough money in the bank to pay my bills and by pretty bras and overly priced meals whenever I want (well, not whenever, but often enough that I never feel without). 

 

I am continuing my weightloos journey and weigh in again tomorrow.  I am hoping to be at 20 lbs.  I lose almost every week, and the weeks I don’t lose I know exactly the reason why (can you say COUNTRY FRIEND STEAK WITH WHITE GRAVY???).  It is slow, but steady and I feel great!  i even had to break down and buy 2 new par of pants for work and a new pair of jeans because mine were so ill fitting that I looked like I hadnt lost the (nearly) 20 lbs that I have.

 

And as for boys…well, they are out there in the world, and they better watch out.  I have my eye on one and maybe it will turn into something.  And if not, well, no worries. 

 

Three cheers to my awesome family, kick ass friends, God who has blessed me so, pants that are too big, and cute boys with blue eyes. 

 

PS.  New laptop has been purchased and I have been spending far too much time staring at it.

Abandoned on Thanksgiving – at least I won’t be called a lesbian again

MY GRANDPA, THE FORWARD THINKER

A few years ago I went on a family trip to see my dad’s parents for Thanksgiving.  They lived in a little po-dunk town outside of Cincinnati, OH.  Theres probably only half a dozen stop lights (maybe less), they shop at Pamida instead of Kroger, the nearest Walmart is damn near an hour away, and the highschool is so small they don’t have a football team.  There isn’t anything to do there, aside from sitting in the back yard drinking beer and watching for deer to come up out of the woods.  We had a great time that year, and I learned exactly how much of a filter my grandfather DOESN’T have.  Right before dinner was served my grandfather pulled me into the livingroom (right in front of the TV, blocking the football), put his arm arround me, patted my shoulder, and the following conversation commenced:

Gramps: Can I ask you something sweetheart?

Me: Sure Gramps, what’s up? (really I’m thinking, oh shit, whats about to come out of his mouth?)

Gramps: Now, I want you to feel you can be honest, because your Grandma and I will love you no matter what.  So just remember that ok?

Me:…..ok….?

Gramps: Are you one of them lesbians?

Me: …………….(blinking in silence)……..No.

Gramps: Are you sure?  Because it would be alright if you were.  We will love you anyway.  We are supportive of the gays.

Me: No, Gramps, I’m quite sure I’m not a lesbian.

Gramps:  Well, I was only asking because, ya know, you don’t keep a steady boyfriend and you don’t wear a lot of makeup.

Me: (not wanting to sound like a whore in front of my Grandpa, and also not wanting to divulge the gritty details of the horrible break up that had happened only a few weeks prior – that my grandparents knew nothing about) Well Gramps, I’m looking for a man, not a boy…and they are all immature and don’t have real jobs…and anyway I’m only 24, there is plenty of time…and I don’t need to put chemicals on my face to look nice…and….

Gramps: O,k Ok, Ok honey.  I was just asking.  Becuse ya know, we would be supportive if you were.  But if you’re not, then that’s OK, too.

Me: Glad to know that, Gramps.  Thanks.  I appreciate it. 

And then I turned, scanning the faces of my dad and stepmom, who were all but crying because they were trying so hard not to laugh out loud, and my Grandma who was just nodding in agreement that, yes, it would be ok if I liked girls.  I walked to the fridge.  I grabbed a beer.  I walked outside.  All the while thinking “What the fuck just happened?” and “Was he actually disappointed that I’m not a lesbian?”

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S NOT GOING TO BE A TURKEY?

After my Grandma died my grandpa moved to Arkansas to live with my dad and step-mom.  I have been to Thanksgiving there every year since.  Except this year.  This year I have to work on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday of Thanksgiving week, so I won’t be able to make the drive from Memphis to Sherwood, AR to be with my dad, step-mom, step-bro & his wife, and my LGBT supportive grandpa.  I just assumed I would spend the day with my mom and stepdad, but to my surprise, my mother is going to the beach with her friends to shop for Thanksgiving. 

 So…I HAVE BEEN ABANDONED ON THANKSGIVING! 

BLACK JACK AND JACK DANIELS

After looking at all my options…

1.Fuck it, I’ll just make my own dinner and have all my friends come?…Except they will be at their parents house.  damnit!

2. Drive to Arkansas Thursday morning and drive back, full of Turkey induced sleepiness, on Thursday night?  Um, no.

3. Have my dad, step mom, step-bro & wife, and Gramps drive up to Memphis for the day, while I slave over a hot oven? Maybe not so much.

3. Crash someone else’s Thanksgiving dinner?  Now that is a real possibility….

4.  Do something completely different and totally fun with my BFF?  BINGO.

I now have impending plans to stay in a room at Harrah’s casino, where I can play black-jack and drink free whisky and eat the entire crab leg buffet.  For Thanksgiving.  YES!  I figure there’s no time like the present to start a new tradition, eh?  And *hopefully* with all the rednecks in Tunica, Mississippi, no one will pull me aside and ask me if I’m a lesbian. 

~Jessimus

 

 

The Cutest Fat Girl.

FAT GIRL.

So, yes, I am a fat girl.  Weighing in 2 1/2 weeks ago at 244.6 lbs., I am technically considered “morbidly obese”.  I hate the M word.  I find nothing about myself to be morbid (except sometimes my sense of humor).  Of course then again I don’t really have any body image issues to speak of.  I was raised as a strong, independent woman and I was taught to “work with what ya got.”  If you’re a fat girl, then hell, embrace that shit and be the cutest/sexiest fat girl there is.  I know how to dress for my body and work hard to avoid the dreaded muffin top at all costs.  I would rather wear a size 18 and look like 16 than wear a size 16 and flood my pants so hard that I look like a 20.  And it helps that my boobs are big enough to distract the eye from my ever expanding waistline and that I have a killer personality.  These two things work like for me like Wonder Woman’s wrist cuffs work for her: deflecting all haters and negative energy (most of the time anyway).  Never the less, 244.6 lbs. is not healthy for a 26 year old woman.  So ladies and gentlemen, I joined Weight Watchers.  I now donate 40 of my hard earned dollars a month so I can have someone validate my minute bits of weight loss once a week and spend countless minutes on my iPhone calculating point values of various meals and snacks.  But ya know what?  I freakin’ love it. 

HOW TO EAT.

I am really learning so much about portion control (how to eat to be full but not eat until I hit the “omg that was so good…I’m gonna ralph” point) and a lot about eating balanced meals and getting the proper servings of fruits, veggie, dairy, and water.  One week in to the program and I had lost 3.2 lbs.  The next week I lost 1.8 lbs., despite the fact that I had drank several beers and glasses of wine and chowed down pretty hard on some Chinese food.  Week # 3 is faring well so far…I feel full and feel much healthier than I have in a long time.  Drinking the right amount of water has really been the hardest part of the whole thing.  Have you ever drunk 64oz of water in your waking hours?  Did you feel like you were going to drown or maybe your bladder was going to burst?  As the days go by I am drinking more and more water and becoming accustomed to the multiple trips to the potty.  But hey, if part of losing weight in a healthy manner involves literally peeing the fat out, I can deal.  

WHO SAYS YOU STILL CAN’T EAT WELL??

I think a common misconception about Weight Watchers is that you have to eat rice cakes and tiny potions of salad for every meal.  Well, I say fuck rice cakes.  I am the type of gal that no one tells me I can’t have something.  SO…I can have whatever I want, I just have to decide if it is worth it.  Is that chocolate chip cookie worth the 3 points it will cost me?  Would I rather spend those 3 points on a glass of wine later tonight? (Translation: “Do I want to be fat or do I want to be a wino?”).  Most of the time I would rather be a wino.  But just to prove that YES! You can eat well on Weight Watchers, I provide you with the following photo of one of the most recent delicious meals I have made…for ONLY 10 POINTS! Whoop Whoop!

 

Steak Tenderloin fillet with shallot-pomegranate-pinot sauce, served with roasted cauliflower and sweet potatoes. And of course, that glass of wine I could have since I didn't eat the cookie.

 

 

 

 Here’s to my first 5 lbs. down!

 

~Jessimus~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Definition

high-strung

   /ˈhaɪˈstrʌŋ/ Show Spelled[hahy–struhng] Show IPA

adjective

at great tension; highly excitable or nervous; edgy: high-strung nerves; a high-strung person.

Origin: 1740–50

Synonyms tense, temperamental; jumpy, edgy, jittery, uptight.

 

 

Gem·i·ni

   /ˈdʒɛməˌnaɪ, -ni/ Show Spelled[jem–uh-nahy, -nee] Show IPA

 

pluralnoun,genitiveGem·i·no·rum  /ˌdʒɛməˈnɔrəm, -ˈnoʊr-/ Show Spelled[jem-uh–nawr–uhm, –nohr-]

 

Adaptable and versatile
Communicative and witty
Intellectual and eloquent
Youthful and lively

Nervous and tense
Superficial and inconsistent
Cunning and inquisitive

Mental Brilliance

Diplomacy

Vivacity

Enthusiasm

Tact

Cheerfulness

humorous and out going

stubborn

 

 

Yea, thats me.