TWO POUNDS!!!

This is the first time I’m writing about it on any of my four blogs, but readers, I am a member of Weight Watchers. It’s true. I joined back in October and have been working hard to shed those pounds ever since. I’ve lost over 40 pounds, but here’s the thing, I seem to be a bit stuck. UGH!!!! What is going on? I’ve been going up and down, up and down, ever since the week of my birthday. My birthday was over two months ago. Yeah. I know. Two months of teeter-tottering is too much. It’s time to get down to business. I’m RECOMMITTING to Weight Watchers. It’s a fact. I’m going to go back to the Weight Watchers tracking sheets. And I am going to do it right. I think all we need sometimes is to start fresh, you know. Couples “start again” all the time. Each day is fresh with no mistakes (at least that’s what I learned from Anne of Green Gables). So tomorrow is day one of Rece Weight Watcher Part II. Please feel free to check-in and see how I’m doing or better yet, join me in this new adventure. Stay tuned for more. ☺

Some assembly required

Have you ever bought a piece of furniture that is fully intact? The box screams, “no assembly required.” You tear open the box, pull out the bookshelf, unfold it and TADA! You can put books on the shelf because it is ready. I love that feeling. I don’t need a screwdriver, hammer, or friend to help me. I pull it out of the box and feel as if I have accomplished some big feat. This feeling of accomplishment is a farce. I deserve no credit for the shelf. Someone else did all the grunt work.

The realization came to me yesterday as I put together small parts of dental chairs. I am working in a factory, you see. I got a summer job to help me pay the bills my “real” job at the school didn’t cover. It’s not my dream job by any means, but it’s going to help me and for that, I am grateful.

So yesterday, I put hundreds of small half rings onto a metal roller. And I made chair backs and put together motors. It was a long, tiring day and at the end of it, I thought, do they really make enough money to cover all the work we’re putting into these chairs. I mean, really, do they? One of my friends used to be a server at a restaurant. She once complained to me that people weren’t tipping her the full 20%. She still gets her regular OREGON minimum wage and yet she’s worried about not getting the HIGH tip? When did tipping go up to 20%? It used to be 15%. So if a crappy waitress/server gets 20% for her lame attempt at serving food, why doesn’t Mary Lou get 20% of the cost of the chair for all the grease she got on her hands, hair, and clothes? I mean, really…

FYI: the factory I’m working at is pretty awesome. They take care of their employees and even their temps (like me). This post has nothing to do with the company, but at the thought… why don’t we tip those hard workers who hurt their hands when fixing the sewing machine that makes our jeans or the craftsman who makes our kitchen table? And if we can’t afford that, can’t we at least give them a shout out?

Note: I would like to thank worker 12 for making my Levi’s jeans so fabulous and…

ain't no elves in this house

The Elves and the Shoemaker. It’s a great tale. The shoemaker cuts out all the leather, gets his tools ready for the morning work, and goes to bed. When he wakes up, the shoes are waiting for him. His work has been done. He can go through the rest of the day without worry or stress. Unfortunately for me, the elves and the shoemaker is just a story. Elves don’t come into your house and turn your fabric pieces into a beautiful dress when you leave your sewing machine out on the table.

Let’s start at the beginning. Last Saturday, my mom and I went to town so I could get a haircut and we could get pedicures. I picked out green polish, knowing I was graduating in a little over a week and that my cap and gown were Oregon green. After the beautification process, we went to Jo-Ann Fabrics to get some white fabric to protect my dad’s pool cover. When we were there, I saw that Vogue patterns were only $2.99. I found a perfect sundress pattern and decided to get it for my collection of patterns for when I become a real seamstress. Well, my mom saw it and said, “Let’s make it for your graduation.” My eyes got kind of big. I mentally calculated how much money was in my checking account. Then I counted the days until I was set to walk in my cap and gown. “Are you sure we can do it?” I asked. “Sure,” she said. So I went to the fabric section and I picked out pretty green fabric.

When I got home, I washed the fabric. Then I ironed the fabric, which my mom said I didn’t do very well. It’s true. I never was very great at ironing.

A few days later, I started to cut out the pattern and fabric pieces. This is only the second time I’ve ever cut out patterns and fabric. The first was to make an apron that is about two sizes too large for me.

The cutting continued for a few days. We’d run out of fabric and had to purchase more. Before we knew it, it was Saturday night. We were set to leave to Eugene at eight Sunday morning. That didn’t happen. Instead, my mom was up until three in the morning trying to help finish the dress. It’s not done. Right now at 9:22 Sunday, the pieces are still hanging over my Grandma’s old kitchen chairs. I am very little help. If I knew how to sew with any basic level, the sewing machine would be running right now. Instead, I dwell on the fact that my life isn’t a fairy tale and elves don’t come into my house to do work. Hmm. Maybe now that I’m an overeducated classroom assistant, I should learn how to sew with efficiency.

graduation day

Ten years ago today I was scrambling around my house. All four of my siblings were moving around the house, making last minute preparations. I had a paper and pen in my hand and was working to finish my valedictorian’s speech before I had to drive to school. It was graduation day and I was basically moving around like a crazy person. My biggest concern was to spend as much time with my best friends as possible before we all moved on to great and exciting lives. I’m starting to believe that I was a bit delusional in high school. Sure I was book smart and school smart, but when it came to life smart, I was pretty much on a cloud where I ate chocolate and swam in a pool all day. Ten years has changed me. I now believe in the real world and I pay attention to how much chocolate I eat. The one thing that hasn’t changed is that last minute madness. What is the attraction of procrastination and how can I tell him to get lost? I’m still working on that.

fire-broiled pecans

I almost died today. I was broiling some pecans to put in my pralines when I started to smell the pecans. I thought, oh crap, they’re probably a little burnt. I opened the oven door and AHHHH!!!! Flames! The flames were jumping off the pan. My life flashed before my eyes. I was pretty sure my parents’ house was about to go up in flames. It was awful.

Now here’s the rough part. I didn’t know what to do. Throw water? Call 911? Get the fire extinguisher? I ran to the garage, pulled out the fire extinguisher and took it back to the kitchen. The extinguisher is probably older than me and I had no idea what to do with it. I ran back to the garage and got the gigantic extinguisher my dad probably uses to put out field fires. The pin was already out. I figured it was dysfunctional. I called my mom, not 911. The fire was small, I thought. No need to call the cops. She didn’t understand what I was saying, probably because I was screaming into the phone. “Water? Do I use water?” I shouted. After three tries, I got my answer. Yes. I was supposed to use water. I got the bowl out of the cupboard causing a small finger wound. Then I put it out. I wasn’t dead. I had survived. My parents got home a while later. I got a mini lesson in broiling pecans, fire extinguishers, and how to keep my cool in an emergency.

A few hours later, I started making the pralines again. They kind of turned out. I blame the fire; it put me on edge.