Long Live Queen Ding-Dong

This post ties back into my post I. Want. A. Job. As I was saying before, I really want a job, even just a little something. (Although, I know as soon as I get a job, I will be saying the opposite).

Anyway, last night I decided to check Craigslist for open jobs in my area. I have always been a little hesitant looking for jobs on Craigslist because you never know what you might get. Beyond that, companies don't list their names on Craigslist, so you can't do your research and you don't know what you're signing up for.

I decided because everywhere else I was looking, I was out of leads, I might as well give Craigslist a chance. A found a job posted that day that sounded great. It was part-time, working at a physical therapy practice. I decided my skill set truly fit with what they were looking for and proceeded to reply to their posting.

In my last post about job hunting, I mentioned that I like to write a very specific cover letter for each position, but was sick of writing them and always felt they were never just right. I went back to the drawing board though and made this as pertinent as I could with the two sentence job description I had been provided. I actually thought it was a success. (Of course, I still haven't heard anything back.)

While I was applying for this great opportunity, I decided to see if I could find anything else worth applying for. I found four other positions that seemed to have potential, so I figured I would apply to them as well. (As I said, I've been applying to tons of positions and haven't heard more than a word or two back from anywhere. I don't understand when or how I became such an untouchable.) Moving on, I decided the cover letter I had written for the physical therapy position was a strong enough blanket cover letter, since I had little information to go off of from the postings. Here is where the trouble began.

I tapped reply to the next job and copy and pasted my previous email. I changed the job description in which I referenced and did a quick once over to make sure I took out anything else that referred to a physical therapy practice. It looked good! Off I sent it. I repeated this process three other times and then jumped into bed. It was after midnight by this point.

This morning I woke up expecting to hear nothing back, but hoping all the same that I would. My phone rang around 9:30, but it was my fiance's set ringtone, so though I was happy he called, disappointment still hit that it wasn't a future employer. After ending my conversation with Chris, I thumbed through my BlackBerry for emails. Some junk, nothing good. I was going to crawl back in bed for awhile to read or watch TV, but my phone blinked red, indicating that I had a new email.

I scanned down and I couldn't believe it was for the Administrative Assistant position that I had applied to just the night before. The posting had been old, so I didn't get my hopes up, thinking they may just be telling me that it had been filled. At this point, I was so excited at the thought that someone would even bother to tell me that, because that was a first. I excitedly opened the email and read only a short phrase.

We don't have a physical therapy practice...

I gasped. Instead of aiming myself back towards the bed, I scurried to my computer to assess the damage. There it was, right in the first paragraph. I had neglected to take out that I would be an asset to their physical therapy practice. I meant company! I meant company, whichever one you were!

My stomach churned. I immediately replied. I wasn't sure that that was the right choice. My letter mentions how great I am at attention to detail. (I swear, I am extremely detail-oriented. It was midnight. I was in panic mode that I would never find a job. I knew I should have written a job specific cover letter. Shame on me.) But I replied anyway, apologizing for the mistake, hoping that deep down they would decide that everybody makes mistakes, but it takes a strong person to admit they are wrong, especially to an prospective employer. (I haven't heard anything back there either, nor do I expect to.)

After an attempt at damage control, I opted to recall the other three pending letters. Because it was sent through Craigslist, it can't be recalled. A new reason to not like Craigslist!

So there you have it. This Ding-Dong here applied to four jobs yesterday, telling each how she would be an asset to their physical therapy practice, of which they do not have. I am totally embarrassed, but I'll just have to chalk it up as another lesson learned, laugh at myself, and move on.


On a side note: I've been looking back at my previous number of post each month, and that number keeps declining. My goal is to try to get the number to increase now instead of decrease. Especially since I lost a lovely follower. To those of you who have stuck around: I appreciate your on-going support.

Long Live Queen Ding-Dong!

Late Night TV, You Win Again

People like me are the reason infomercials were invented. Okay, so this time it wasn't an infomercial, but HSN: Home Shopping Network.

It was 1:30 AM, and I was curled up the couch with a fleece blanket and my cat. I was so comfortable, and not at all sleepy, so I decided to find something on TV for another hour or so before going to bed. (Unemployment has made me revert back to my terrible sleeping habits.)

Of course at that hour there was nothing good on TV, but I scrolled through the channel guide, bound to find something to watch. That's when I saw, "Tori Spelling Collection" displayed on HSN. I had purchased a Tori Spelling necklace (the floating agate in blue for any of you that know the line) awhile back and really loved it. I thought back to when I had ordered that piece and remembered that she had some really great pieces; they were stylish, trendy, and chic. I hadn't purchased more for two reasons: one, the stock was limited and two, the items were a little pricey. (And on a side note: I am only slightly bitter that the necklace I bought a while ago is now half the price. Oh, well!)

Anyway, back to 1:30 AM, the couch, and HSN. Tori Spelling was actually on this viewing to show the jewelry, and for some reason, the fact that she, herself wears the jewelry appeals to me. Enough so, that I want to buy it. I watched the remaining half hour of the show and stayed tuned for the next hour to come. I told myself that I wasn't going to buy anything, but I still wanted to see the whole line. I made it to the end, loving so many of the pieces, and they were at a special event price, but I still held to my pledge that I wasn't going to order anything.

By the end of the second hour, I was quite groggy. Before I knew what was happening, I had popped on to HSN.com and was ordering a necklace. I decided it was so versatile I could wear it with everything, so it would be well worth the investment. I typed in my credit card number in my altered state and clicked order. Here is the result:



This picture doesn't really do the necklace justice. I really do love it and am hardly even experiencing any cognitive disonance. The only problem is that my shopaholic nature has kicked in and I want to order more! I find myself checking HSN.com a few times a day. You might think that sounds crazy. Okay, it is kind of crazy, but if you shop at HSN you might know why. You see, the stock is constantly updated, and at any given time, the inventory is different. You never know what you might find, and that triggers my shopaholic-ness, too. I'm getting out of control! I must regain composure!

But seriously, check it out! I love the line. Oh, but don't buy too much, the stock is very limited and I might want that.

I. Want. A. Job.

Sorry, I just don't feel like posting much. I've been working on my writing skills elsewhere: writing cover letters. I've been trying them every which way. From dry and professional to the exaggeratedly creative and everything in between, if you can think of a style, I've certainly tried it. But nothing has worked! Suggestions welcome.

Chris and I are doing fine money-wise. We can afford our lifestyle, but I would like to have an income of my own. My savings account just keeps depleting and dwindling and I would like to build a nest egg for our future. I don't want to head into our marriage without a dime to my name, or without a job, or really at this point an identity.

I still haven't really met anyone in the area, so I mostly hang around at home all day. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy not having to work everyday and I've been able to pick up a bunch of hobbies, but my life is still lacking structure. I don't have anything that I have to do everyday or even every week. Just recently, I started guitar lessons every Tuesday. I look forward to my lesson so much because it gives me reason to do something. Otherwise, I can be lazy at times.

I don't mind sitting around all day and watching TV, but I feel bad later on. Chris comes homes after working for ten hours. I slept for five of those hours and was unproductive for the other five. What a waste! But I don't really work on my hobbies such as sewing or writing because I just "never get around to it". I've been trying to set time out to work on it, but I don't hold myself to it. No matter what I try, I just can't figure out a good way. Suggestions welcome here as well.

But really, I want a job if for no other reason than this: I have a fabulous shoe collection and nowhere to wear it!

To Lose or Not to Lose?

Well this is certainly not a problem I ever thought I would have to deal with. I've just known that I will always be someone who has weight to lose; thus I should always being actively trying to lose weight. Here's the dilema:

Saturday, I found it! The dress. The one I could see myself getting married in. I had so been dreading wedding dress shopping. Being a size 16, if I have to try on a size bigger, I'm in the plus size department. And wedding dresses run on the small side. I had convinced myself I was going to have to custom order a hideous dress, not at all what I was looking for, because of my size. There just isn't a great selection of plus size wedding dresses. And I was looking to keep the budget down.

So, Saturday, I met with a bridal consultant. I ticked off my fingers all the things I was looking for in a dress, but assured her I was open to trying anything. I was just saying, I've been in this body for 24 years and I know what works and what doesn't. As for the list: preferably not strapless, I need something to support my DD's, and hopefully even thick straps because I have such broad shoulders, something simple, but not too plain, something for an outdoor setting, white, yes, but the shade isn't too important. She asks me my size and pulls me over to the rack holding the potential candidates. She then asks if a halter is okay, and I replied, that's great.

(Note: My dress is not pictured.)

She's pulls a dress off the rack. I consider it from all angles. I liked it. I wasn't sure about the long train, or if the bead work was just right, but it looked good overall. The consultant hung it in the dressing room while I browsed the racks. I pull about nine other dresses. Everything looked good, but I point I wasn't really loving any one more than the other. I was waiting to try them on before I made my decision. As I said, I was trying to stay open to anything.

I fly through dress after dress. No, that didn't work at all. My boobs would never fit in any size of that dress. That neckline to too straight. With the lace bottom, they would have to custom order that one. This one looks pink. This one makes me look fat(ter). I like this top, but not the bottom. I like this bottom, but not the top. This one is two sizes to small, I like it, but I don't know what it would look like if I ordered it, don't want to take any chances. Finally, one that zips. But it's a size 18 and is an absolute tent on me. I look like I should be housing the tables at the reception not walking down the aisle. Okay, clip it back, what would it look like smaller? It would be okay. There's beading at the bottom though, hemming the dress would be nightmare and an expensive one at that.

We get to the last dress on the rack. The ivory halter that we pulled first. I shimmy in and it zips! I can't believe it, it fits. And it had all the elements I was looking for. It looks like it was custom made for me. The waist cuts in, slimming my shape. The beading tapers off into a V and hits in exactly the right spots. There isn't any beading on the bottom, making hemming a cinch! The halter straps need to be shortened, but other than that, it fits just like a glove. I was shocked at such a good find. And it was on sale. And the floor model was clean and in good shape. I took it, receiving another 20% off.

After 1 hour and 20 minutes, I walked out of the shop with a dress in hand, and it fit the budget coming in at $500 with tax. The dilema in that you ask? As I said, it fits like a glove.

As you probably know, I've been trying to lose weight. I hoped that I could lose at least 20 pounds before the wedding. With about five months to go, that was a reasonable goal. The thing is, my weight loss has slowed (and I've gotten lazy truthfully). I decided, I didn't need the stress of trying to lose a bunch of weight before the wedding. It didn't want to starve myself to be sure I could fit in a smaller size dress.

But I think I could lose a little weight and still fit in the dress. (I mean to be healthy, I really do need to lose weight.) But I'm worried if I lose too much, there won't be time to get all the alterations done on the dress. They scolded me while I was there, you can't buy a dress and then lose a bunch of weight. Okay. Point taken. Maybe 10 pounds max? Does anybody have any idea how much would be too much? How many pounds is a size typically? Then I worry if I don't actively try to lose weight, I'm going to gain weight, and then I won't fit either. Why does everything wedding related have to be so stressful? Help!

Step into My Closet

Glancing over at the passenger side of they car, my eyes catch a view of three rouge pairs of shoes. They are probably castoffs from a long day of work, when my feet just couldn't take it anymore. Or maybe they were the spare pair I brought along when I wasn't sure which went better with my outfit. I decide that it's definitely time to clean out the car.

The backseat pf my little SUV is still folded into its downward position, the position in which I put it into over two moths ago, when I moved. I left the backseat down because I was still carting a few leftover items from my parents' house to the apartment and vice verse. Now that I'm more or less settled in the new place, it's time to get the car clutter under control.

After a little more digging, I discover a pair of flip-flops under my three pairs of displaced heels: one pair of faux natural colored snakeskin, two pairs dark pink, one t-strap, the other alligator textured. The seat houses a pile of Cd's that I put away immediately, since it's such an easy task. Under the Cd's I find my letter of recommendation. That's not a safe place for such a document, so I remind myself to file it in my desk for safe keeping.

The clean up is coming along nicely, so next I head to the backseat, determined to finally put the seats in their upright and locked position. I swing open the door and reach in. My first find is a canvas bag, contents: four more pairs of heels. These heels were from the last trip I made back to my parents' house. I know there and then, the clean up of the car couldn't go any farther until I got my shoe collection under control.

Behold the product of my latest labor. My closet door, accessorized with 31 pairs of heels. Unfortunately, I just couldn't fit anything more than heels on the rack due to the high volume I own. There are still over twenty pairs of shoes left looking for a spot. My next goal is to organize the remainder; that way it's easy to see exactly what I have, easy to grab them quickly, and easy to keep them from cluttering up my apartment, my car, and anywhere else they end up (which seems to be everywhere).

And yes, I do realize that I may have a problem. I purchased four pairs of shoes in the month of February alone: a pair of open-toe, studded, Steve Madden booties, 4.5 inches, a pair of pumps, black and red faux snakeskin, 4 inches, a pair of white gladiator pumps with gold buckles up and down, 4 inches and finally (not pictured) a pair of brown leather wedges, strappy all around, also about 4 inches. In my defense, in the process of organizing my shoes, I did donate four pairs, so I'm about even. I just can't resist a pretty pair of size 6.5's, even if I do wear my slip on sneakers most of the time.

So That's Why They Call it A Slimmer

I've been meaning to buy a pair of SPANX for awhile now. You know, the bodyshapers. I just wanted the kind that are like spandex biking shorts, not the whole shaping caboodle or anything. I recently bought a bodyshaper from T. J. Maxx, the long, shorts type. They were a cheaper alternative than a pair of SPANX, thus the reason for buying them. I figured they would do the trick.

While covering my cellulite and making my pants fit a little better is at the top of my wish list, that's ultimately not what I planned to achieve with these SPANX alternatives. I will admit to you the real reason I wanted a pair of long bodyshaping shorts: so my legs won't rub or stick together when I walk. While I do carry my excess weight fairly proportionately, I definitely have some thunder thighs. I can't walk long without chaffing and "rub burning" my inner thighs. And while I don't have anything against cowboys, I don't really enjoy walking like one.

Anyway, I tried these cheap SPANX alternatives and ended up walking "Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy Joe"-style after a few minutes because the darn things just rolled up. I mean, they practically became a second set of underwear and I had a roll line generously framing my butt and thighs. After that fiasco, I told myself to stop being frugal and go for the SPANX. I set my mind to buying a pair of SPANX, eventually.

Last night, I made a late night solo trip to Fred Meyer. Chris caught my horrible cold and I was re-stocking the medicine cabinet for him. Even though I moved in a couple months ago, I still hadn't finished organizing my closet; this was partially due to the fact that I ran out of hangers. This week Chris and I were working on cleaning the place up a little more and I decided I need to get my closet settled. So back at Fred Meyer, my handy dandy list told me I needed more hangers in addition to the cough syrup.

Once I walked through the automatic glass doors, I veered to the left, right to the clothing department. I tell you no lie, I really thought that is where I would find hangers. While I didn't find any empty hangers, I did pick up a shirt and sweater that conveniently came with their own respective hangers! I promptly added them to my basket (but left them in the car upon my arrival home as I didn't want to hear complaining that I was shopping for unnecessary clothes while Chris was suffering with the cold I gave him and he didn't even have any medicine, blah, blah, blah...).

After I did the full rounds and figured out that hangers are actually on the opposite side of Fred Meyer in the storage section, I started to move along. On my way into the next department I was distracted by an adorable black and white straw hat. Don't worry. I gently reminded myself that it has been snowing outside lately, I'm not going to the racetrack anytime soon, and I wouldn't want to pack it on vacation even if it is to Hawaii because it would just get smashed. (On second thought, Chris and I did talk about going to the racetrack. Maybe I should go back and buy it, even if I would be the only one wearing a giant hat. And I would look ridiculous, considering people don't typically wear straw hats to the racetrack for everyday races. Okay, you win, I won't buy it. Until I can think of a better excuse.)

Back at the store, after I talked myself out of the lovely little hat, I continued to move along and was soon confronted in the aisle by ASSETS. The packaging reminded me that I had indeed been meaning to buy a pair of SPANX. I figured that considering I never remember to do just that, and that I didn't know when the next opportunity may present itself, I should just buy these. They were a lower price alternative, but not too low in price that I didn't expect them to deliver results.

I analyzed my options and decided that I might as well go with the high-waisted shorts option rather than the medium rise. After all, my tummy needs smoothing and I wouldn't have to worry about them rolling down. So I picked up the green package and consulted with the back on which size to choose. Height: 5' even, though I always try to cop to a couple more inches. I figured I should be honest to get the best fit for my little splurge. Okay, next. Weight: that's a little rude don't you think? I've only just met you, little green cardboard box of judgment. Alright: just under 200 pounds. I guess that makes me a size: off the chart! What are you telling me? These are not going to fit you, unless you lose 10 pounds or grow an inch? How can you be so fat; is that even possible? Skip the next few meals? You are a horribly deformed freak? Reluctantly, I opted for the size that is the biggest a 5' person should be, or at least according to ASSETS anyway.

Once I pulled the shaper out of the bag, I realized I should be fine. They were like nylons or tights, so I could just stretch them out. Make it work, as Tim Gunn would say. I went into the bathroom and put one foot in. My right leg was immediately encased like a little sausage. Make it work. Pull. Stretch. Breathe. Pull. More. More. Breathe. Shimmy. Shimmy. Jump. Phew. I did it! I officially got my new little buddies on. So far I don't have any complaints, but I'm glad I didn't get the bigger size. These come all the way up to my boobs. I didn't need the same size as somebody even a centimeter taller. And one other complaint, that I will have to add about 20 minutes to my routine in the morning if I'm planning on wearing a skirt to get these suckers on. But as long as the unattractive and painful rub rash on my inner thighs is gone, it's much worth it. And besides, with all the sweating I did just putting these ASSETS on, I'm definitely going to lose weight. So that's why they call it a slimmer.

If You're Wondering Where I've Been

Forgive me for being away so long. I'm finally feeling better; I was so sick with a flu and it lasted for almost two weeks. My head was in a fog, and I really couldn't even think straight. Besides being sick, I also was getting my butt into gear working more on my goals; however blogging got pushed to the side.

I had to buckle down and start nailing down wedding plans. While I still have no dress, which I keep hearing I'm late on getting, most everything else is at satisfactory progress. The dress is the next step. And being at my current size, my least favorite part.

I also had to put my nose to the grindstone. It's not that I have to get a job right now. With Chris' income and my savings, financially we are set. It's not even that I'm bored. Truthfully, I'm fine at home picking up hobbies and watching TV. The thing is, there is a voice in my head that keeps telling me to at least try to get into the workforce again. We all know it's not an easy task at this time, but I'm thinking about my resume. I don't want to have a large gap while looking for a job. I don't want a perspective employer think that I'm lazy or that I don't want to work, and that I don't have experience. Ultimately, I really do have a strongly work ethic and want to work. I will always strive to be the best at what I do, even menial tasks. Like I say, it's not that I'm bored, but I want to have a sense of accomplishment, and taking care of a three bedroom apartment and two cats doesn't exactly cut it for me. I want something more out of life. I want to be a success.

Some of this may come from the fact that I just celebrated my 24th birthday. While I don't feel old by any means, I feel like I don't have much to show for myself. There is a second factor that made me realize this. Chris and I made a quick shopping trip at Nordstrom Rack. I barely even wanted to shop because I didn't want to spend money, but I hated that I didn't want to shop because I LOVE shopping. (I'll save what I bought because I'm going to try and follow through with my post idea for "Confessions of a Shopaholic" which I promise to get to soon.)So, I want to earn money, my own money. While Chris is willing to give me money, I don't want to take it for shoes and clothes, or my own hobbies. I feel like I have to answer to him and it takes away my independence. He's nonchalant about it, but I'm insistent that I want to take care of myself in some way.

So that's where I've been. Working away on writing cover letters and adjusting my resume. Applying, applying, and applying, trying to find somewhere that while hire me, and let's face it, something I won't hate at the same time. I'll post again soon. Thanks for sticking with me.