Friday, December 24, 2010

Christmas Just Isn't as Magical

or you will have a lot of explaining to do

Okay so now that's out of the way.... over the last few years I've found that Christmas is suddenly just upon me. When I was a kid it seemed like Christmas took forever to get here. Every day I woke up in excitement and ticked off the days but it always felt so far away. I don't know about you, or if you celebrate Christmas, but Christmas was always a big deal in our house and it was always a magical time of year for me. To this day the smell of a Christmas tree (a REAL ONE... we don't get no fake trees in our house) is my favorite smell, and I think it's because of my childhood Christmases.

Over the last few years Christmas just hasn't felt as magical. The snow is a life-threatening, time consuming gray sludge, not magical fluffy white stuff that I could roll in, build with, and eat. Although I look forward to Christmas and really enjoy this time of year (aside from the cold), it just isn't as enchanting and exciting anymore. Whenever it came up in conversation I always say something like, "Ever since I found out the big man wasn't for real, Christmas hasn't been as magical." 

Then one day I was driving home, thinking it'd be so much easier to just drive my car off the road into a ditch instead of trying to get everything done and it dawned on me - it's not my disbelief in Santa that has made Christmas less magical. That's not it at all. I've drawn pictures to illustrate why, I feel, Christmas is less magical for me as an adult than it was for me as a child.

I'm pretty sure I've figured out where the magic went.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Winter Solstice, Merry Yule, or whatever else you celebrate. I hope your holidays are magical

With love from Cake Betch, Justin, and our semi-retarded dane Kaiser.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

My Mom Says I Curse Too Much on My Blog

She says the cursing might offend some people, and someday if an employer reads my blog I might not get hired (or I could get fired).

To address the offensive part: I gave some thought to this, and I tried to clean up my mouth type a little, but I just can't help it. I like expletives. They're so colorful, so definitive, bold, unflinching.... and crude. I do use curse words in my every day vocabulary, but not quite as much as I do in my blog. Why? I'm not sure, but I know I like to use them to really drive home certain points. I did however change the blog settings to "over 18" or "questionable adult content" or whatever it actually says so that people are forewarned. And for you, dear reader, if cursing offends you, this blog is probably not for you. But if you're a foul mouthed son of a bitch like me, we should have some fun! Whhheeeeeeee!!

And for the employer part: This actually concerned me a little more. I'm sure it wouldn't take very long for any employer or future employer to figure out who I am and read my blog and I think they could very easily get the wrong idea about me from my blog. This blog is my 'party' side, my 'fun, crude, rude, tell it like it is' side. I have another side, and that is Business Cake Betch. I can flip between Party Cake Bitch and Business Cake Betch with the drop of a hat. I can walk like, talk like, look like, and be a consummate professional. I'm educated, well read, can easily hold a friendly business-appropriate conversation with anyone, and I know what is and isn't appropriate in the workplace. I've gotten every job I've ever applied for except for one (but I had absolutely no qualifications for it). Justin told me the first time he met me (at work) he thought I was a consultant of some sort. The point I'm trying to make here is that Party Cake Betch knows where her time and place is.

And you know what? I don't know if I want to work for someone who can't appreciate a little crudeness and humor in an appropriate venue, so there.

Here is a pictorial explanation of the spread between Business Cake Betch and Party Cake Betch. I'd like to explain it using this glorious mullet because, of course, mullets are business in the front and party in the back. Just like me!

Okay, this is Business Cake Betch. No cursing, clean, well dressed, gotten plenty of sleep, bright, and chipper. Ready for a business meeting, talking with clients, or giving a speech. No flashy clothes, nothing that stands out in any way. I can't offend people, I don't look trendy, and I basically blend in with all the other suits.

This is for days that I know I'll only be in the office, or if I'm in a more relaxed atmosphere where people are allowed to be a little more individual. Might go for the cute curly hair, and I'd add some nice jewelry that otherwise might be too "flashy". I feel comfortable rolling my sleeves up and I've probably got some cute heels on instead of nondescript neutral shoes.

Most companies I've worked for let you wear jeans on Fridays. By Friday I've probably lost a lot of sleep and so I've slept on my hair and had to do it in such a way that it isn't obvious that I have bed head. I'll usually put on a more casual short sleeved shirt, and might even do some bright jewelry so I don't feel invisible.

Yay! It's the weekend! I can stop talking like a smart, witty, graceful politician and be that girl at the bar that drinks beer, eats nachos, and burps! I can wear jeans that have some holes or have been dyed, and I can wear a t-shirt. And I can DRINK!

Then there is the Cake Betch has had a rough week or needs an excuse to drink. It's also the Cake Betch you generally get on my blog. The outrageous party say anything Cake Betch you all know and (hopefully?) love.

Any employer that doesn't want to hire ME obviously doesn't know what he or she is missing! And any employer that DOES want to hire me after reading my blog... CONTACT ME! I think we could get along fabulously.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

My Tuesdays and Thursdays are Killing Me

I am ridiculously stressed out about the month-long exam I have to complete to get into the Vis Comm program at OSU. Only 18 people get in every year and about 75 to 100 apply. I have to get in. I don't want to be any older than 30 when I'm back out in the 'real' world. I need this so bad I can taste it. Because of that I am severely stressed out. Everyone all quarter talked about how difficult the exam was, how they spent the entire month on it, bla bla bla. I've had it for 12 days (I think) and I've made progress, but I don't feel like I'm doing anything amazing or novel, which is what they're looking for. One part that is stressing me out the most - I have to explain how to change a tire on a car with no text, only drawings.

I realize I'm out of control, and I'm being ridiculous, but I can't help it. I think about the exam on the hour every hour I'm awake, and if I'm not working on it my stress level rises because I feel like I'm running out of time. When I do work on it I stress out because I feel like it has to be no less than perfect, and perfect is a pretty subjective thing when you're dealing with design.

So in order to make sure I have enough time to get this exam done, I kept to my schedule from this quarter which means I leave work at 12:30, get home at 1:00, and have the rest of the night to work on stuff for the exam. The last three weeks have been spent working on this tire problem, and this is basically how the day proceeds at one:

I get home and am optimistic, fresh, ready to draw.

I draw for about an hour. Realize that my ideas aren't very sweet and I'm not really coming up with anything new. I have to make this process make sense in a very small amount of space.

Okay, so things aren't going quite as swimmingly as I thought. That circle isn't very good, that part is confusing, how the fuck do I express with a drawing "in order to change a tire, you need these things:"?

Two or three hours have passed. I haven't made much progress and I'm still hung up on a few illustrations that just aren't performing like I want them to. I think, "This is the best I can do", then I think, "If I draw this ten more times, will it be better?" And I know the answer is yes. But I really, REALLY, don't want to draw it ten more times.

It's around this time I start inserting activities to break up the stress, to try to get back to ground zero. Anyone on my Facebook can testify to the fact that I generally don't update my status that often - except for Tuesdays and Thursdays, when I start updating statuses and commenting on other people's stuff like I've OD'ed on caffeine and have absolutely nothing else to do with myself. I can't help it. I need a distraction.

Usually this fails to help me. Looming right behind me is that fucking tire changing problem. Staring at the back of my head, waiting for me to remember that I need to work on it and recommence freaking out. Eventually I get back to it.

At this point (around 8:00pm) I'm pretty well fucked. Nothing makes sense, I've already started drinking, I've eaten everything in sight (Tara eats her feelings) and have cleaned, used the bathroom, fixed my makeup, opened and closed blinds, and paced around the room more than any sane person should.

At this point I'm coiled so tightly the slightest little problem could send me into a nuclear style melt down. I'm old so my eyes have been strained from six and a half hours of drawing and looking at the computer and not only can I not see straight, I can barely draw. My eyes are literally bloodshot and focusing independently of one another. 

There is only one thing left to do in order to be able to sleep after this:

It is what it is.

I should mention today is Thursday. And it's 8:40. That should be all the more explanation you need as to why my MS Paint drawings are a little more sloppy than they normally are and nothing has been proof-read. 

The one upside is I know I'm going to be sleeping pretty soundly tonight.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Open Letter to Shamansky Real Estate Holdings

Dear Shamansky Real Estate Holdings,

I'm not even sure if you're the actual owner of these apartment buildings because they're so shitty they don't have any name, sign, or webpage. The Auditor's webpage tells me that you are the proud owner of this mark of land that God shat on to create in 1963, so this letter is addressed to you, assuming you are responsible for the maintenance and cleaning work done here.

As you may or may not have noticed, your shitty little apartment complex is totally surrounded by houses. As such you not only need to think about your own jobless / crazy cat lady / sex offender residents, you need to be considerate of everyone else on the street whenever you are doing work that could be considered a disruption.

You know what this morning was? Monday. You know what I was doing at 5:29am?
SLEEPING! Good! Reasonable too, I might add, that you would think I was SLEEPING at FIVE TWENTY NINE AM.

Okay, now guess what I was doing at 5:30am?
SURPRISE! I'm startled awake by a horde of African killer bees descending upon my house!

Wait a minute.... that isn't a horde of killer bees... that sounds an awful lot like a snowblower. Maybe if I just wait a minute it'll stop and I can fall back asleep.

So, Shamansky, I got out of bed and went into the guest bedroom to see what could possibly be making so much fucking noise and GUESS WHAT? It was your maintenance team! Scraping the sidewalks and snow-blowing SO LOUD it sounded like you were cleaning out my eardrums.

If it was that loud in my house, across the street and one house down, I can only imagine how loud it was for your residents. One of your guys had taken his snow shovel right up to the door and was scraping against it. I'm guessing the residents had been up all night drinking and hitting the crack pipe and were too far gone to hear him, because if I were living there I probably would have opened my door and punched that guy in the face.

Now don't get me wrong, I understand that the service you provide here is a totally necessary one, and frankly, I wish someone would come scrape and snow-blow my sidewalks. However, I think maybe you can understand that FIVE THIRTY A.M. might not be the most appropriate time to be performing these services.

In closing, Shamansky, I just want to let you know that I'm going to be making a trip to my local hunting supplies store to pick up a high-powered rifle.
Then, if I ever get jarred out of my bed again by the sound of a snow blower at FIVE FUCKING THIRTY A.M., instead of lying in bed wishing hell would open up and swallow your entire shit-hole apartment complex, I will instead spend my lost hour of precious sleep brushing up on my target practice.

Thank you, and fuck off, you inconsiderate ass-hat bastards,

<3 Cake Betch

Friday, December 3, 2010

Sorry I Got Fat

First off... sorry again for my disappearance. Between work, school, the holidays, and life, I have had very little time for anything. And that means the blog. The quarter just ended yesterday and all I have to do now is handle my month-long exam to get into design (Visual Communication to be exact). OSU only accepts 18 students into Vis Com per year, and between 75 and 100 apply. So I have my work cut out for me. Apparently my absence has cast doubt into your hearts because I lost a follower over the last week :-( FINE! Go! I don't need you anyway. *tear*

Anywaaaaaay. So, I'm just going to come right out and say it. I got fat. Actually, both Justin and I have gotten fat. I've known about my extra padding for quite some time now, but Justin just recently stumbled upon his own a few days before Thanksgiving. I found this in my inbox:


 to me
show details Nov 23 
lets play, Guess how much Justin has balooned up since he started dating Tara:

You go first (keep in mind that i was 180-184 for 3 years prior to us):


 to Justin
show details Nov 23
Why do you say "since he started dating Tara" like it's my fault??


 to me
show details Nov 23
I'm enacting a state of emergency regarding all consumables.  I am on lockdown meaning it's every man for himself from now on.  I'm going to just eat soup.
And with that I was on my own. I left off how much weight he said he gained because I'm not sure how vain he is and whether or not I would be allowed to post it. Let me state for the record that Justin is 6"5. Don't you think that 180-184 for a 6"5 dude is pretty thin? Seriously, he doesn't look fat.
** UPDATE: He said I could post it. He weighs 215 now.

Thanksgiving was obviously a gut buster for us. We're both big foodies, and both our families have healthy appetites. We loooooooooooove Thanksgiving.
Justin took a picture of our refrigerator after we packed the leftovers from both dinners in. Other than the booze and the lonely smushed bottle of salad dressing everything you see is some kind of left-over.

Awesome, because I hate cooking. Not awesome for the whole diet thing, because it's all been made with about 30lbs of butter and fat. If I had to guess, I'd say I probably put on five pounds over Thanksgiving weekend. I was in a constant state of overly-full for four days.

When we first started dating we had both been working out regularly. We tried to keep running but once we moved into Columbus we got lazy. Not to mention there's so much more good food around here than there was in the suburbs, and a coffee shop (my personal kryptonite) within walking distance. Fast forward after one year of this:

So my goal is to start eating healthier, cut back on the booze, eat less, and get more exercise. I don't think I will ever be as thin as I was (at my thinnest I was surviving on a diet of cottage cheese, fruit, and shots), but I could totally stand to lose about 15lbs. Honestly I haven't weighed myself in weeks because I'm afraid I'll slit my wrists but I know where I want to be, and I'm going to guess that's about 15lbs away.

Here's the problem - I hate exercising. I know that the best thing to do is to find an activity that you enjoy so that you're having fun not exercising. But I hate playing sports. I can't always run outside and I go bonkers after 10 minutes on a treadmill. Lifting weights is boring.

I would love to try swimming because a.) I'm a good swimmer and b.) I enjoy swimming, but I'd have to join a gym or rec center to get access to a pool, and I'm not particularly wild about the idea of strangers seeing me in a bathing suit.

I also love horseback riding (which is how I lost 20 of the first 60lbs without even trying in 2005) but it is expensive. I got a card from a guy that does lessons on North American Spotted Drafts, Percherons, and Friesians. For those of you who are no horse people and have no idea WTF I'm talking about:
North American Spotted Draft
I just think it would be totally badass to learn how to ride a horse this massive. Then I'll make myself a warrior outfit and ride it around and hit people with a cardboard sword. 

After much giddiness and excitement though I found out the guy's stable was an hour and twenty minutes away from my house. Sad panda.

To draw a long winded, pointless, rambling blog to a close... do you exercise? And if so, what do you do? What works best for you? I need some pointers. Pointers about diet would be welcomed too.