Water Adventure Wednesday & That's All, Folks! Thursday

Wednesday noontime found Chad and I at Lazy Dog Kayaking for a two-hour kayak tour among the mangroves with our brainy guide, Brian. Our guide stopped at least eight times to show us many cool things and explain each thing's role in the ecosystem. We saw a sea cucumber, a seahare (like a huge inside out snail - eww, but cool), queen conch (I swear I heard it say "don't eat conch fritters" in a tiny voice.), jellyfish, a nurse shark (!!!), mangrove trees, tree crabs (yes, little grey crabs that live in trees), anemone, a sea star (a.k.a. starfish), sponges and a few other things I can't recall. I also didn't recall to reapply sunscreen during our two-hour outing. Chad and I both got weird sunburn lines on the fronts of our bodies. Despite the sunburn, our kayaking eco-tour was a close second place to snorkeling for my favorite activity in Key West.

Back at the Almond Tree Inn, after much-needed showers, we sat on the lovely covered porch that had ceiling fans (almost like air-conditioning) for a lunch of leftovers from Blue Heaven and Blackfin Bistro. I love it when hotel rooms have mini fridges, especially when they aren't stocked with expensive mini-bar items. I need somewhere to keep leftovers.

We were pretty tired (and sunburned) from kayaking. We rested and read books until dinner time. Back to Blue Heaven for dinner! Why mess with a good thing when you find it? I had a salad with a side of that amazing cornbread and an Arnold Palmer. Chad had some fish dish that he really liked and a Bloody Goose drink. (He eats and drinks weird things. Gross. But he seems to like them.) We watched the resident chickens of Blue Heaven ascend to the treetops for their nighttime roosting. It was a slow trip that involved a lot of walking and hopping. Chickens are not graceful fliers. After the chicken show, we had the key lime pie with crazy high meringue top for dessert. So good!

We retired early to our hotel room on our last night in Key West. Party, party, party - that's us.

Thursday morning we took our time packing, left our suitcases at the hotel front desk and walked to Blackfin Bistro again for awesome brunch and good people-watching out the big front window. I had the BEST french toast I've ever had in the form of their Overnight Caramel French Toast. The toast had a caramelized crunch to it almost like the top of a creme brulee. Chad had Eggs Benedict Florentine. And some of my french toast. How does he keep that tiny waist? (Lots of time at the gym.) We skipped the mimosas this time, because no one wants a hangover on an airplane. 

Back to the tiny Key West airport, which for outbound travelers offers one more chance to get sand in your shoes at the Last Call Beach Bar. It's a small tiki hut looking bar with some sand and a palm tree in an outdoor courtyard right by the departure gates. No thanks. Our flight home (via Atlanta) departed Key West midday Thursday. We made it home safely, and only an hour late. 

Travel tip: bring your empty reusable water bottles in your carry-on bag. Empty reusable plastic bottles are fine to get through airport security. Austin and Atlanta airports have bottle filling stations near the regular water fountains.

Our trip to Key West was the right balance of fun, relaxing and interesting. I really enjoyed it. It's not a place that I'll lobby to go to again and again (That honor goes to Hood River, Oregon.), but I'm so glad we went. My sunburn is still peeling, but the laundry is all done!

Summary:
Hotel was awesome: Almond Tree Inn
Favorite restaurants: Blackfin Bistro & Blue Heaven
Favorite activities: Fury Water Adventures Snorkeling & Lazy Dog Kayaking
Favorite lookie places: Hemingway House & Key West Eco Discovery Center
Pub crawl was a little sad
Favorite street walk: Whitehead Street for beautiful houses & banyan trees
Silliest photo-opp: the 0 mile marker

How do you like your eggs cooked?

Have you seen the movie The Runaway Bride about a lovely lady who continuously bolts the wrong way down the aisle at her numerous weddings? In the movie, a reporter asks the runaway bride's many ex-fiancees how she liked her eggs cooked. Each ex-fiancee describes a different method of egg preparation, that also happens to be exactly how each ex-fiancee liked their own eggs cooked. The point being that the each ex-fiancee was mistaken about the preferences (and the true nature of) their runaway bride. The runaway bride herself wasn't sure how she liked her eggs cooked, because she let each ex-fiancee decide for her. 

I use this as a playful parable to describe my job situations. I'm not sure what I really like or want in a job. I have a long list of things I don't want or like in a job. I am smart, hard-working and conscientious. I do just about any job well for a limited amount of time. The time limit arises when I burn out from working too many hours, without days off and in a job for which I was never a good fit. I also burn out, because I hit a point where I see gaping difference in my own values and the values of my employing entity. When other employees and supervisors realize that I am conscientious, they tend to start leaning on me too hard from too many directions. I try to set some boundaries or take some time off, and someone's feelings get hurt, or someone's superhuman expectations of me are temporarily unmet. 

I liked school and excelled there, due to the well-defined expectations, mostly constructive feedback and built-in holidays to rest, relax and rev up for the next semester. I also excelled in academics, because I was hardly ever graded by my peers. I didn't have to learn the politicking required for many job situations. I also liked homework. I could have the radio or television on for background noise while I worked. I could sit alone at home or at a table in the library to complete assignments. I liked that part of of my work was self-directed at my own pace under conditions of my choosing.

How do I like my eggs? The truth is that I don't really like eggs. Baked into yummy bread or sweet things, sure, eggs are fine, but as the featured flavor? Pass the salsa or ketchup, please. I need to drown out the egg flavor and texture. Also, I like to have humane-certified eggs, because I worry about the welfare of the chickens. I feel bad for taking their eggs.

I don't know what my next job will be, and I really hesitate to use the word "career". I know that when people ask me what I want to do next or what I am pursuing for my next job, they are expressing interest and/or benevolent concern. It grates on me, because I don't know. I've got some work to do deciding. 

Tourist Tuesday In Key West

As we walked to the Key West Eco Discovery Center Tuesday morning, we passed by a lush shaded courtyard that looked very inviting with a menu posted by the gate. We made note to return to the restaurant for lunch. 

Key West Eco Discovery Center is free, interesting and air-conditioned! Among the many cool things to see are a 2500 gallon reef tank with tropical fish and coral, life-size wetland ecology exhibit and an an interesting short movie about the flora & fauna of Key West on land and underwater. The center also exhibited beautifully strange photo art prints depicting an underwater world that looked like a high concept fashion advertising campaign by artist, Andreas Frank, as part of his The Sinking World series.

Chad and I walked through the Truman Annex and by the Little White House after we left the Eco Discovery Center. It's interesting that the Little White House was the winter White House for President Truman, and that important federal business happened there. These days the Truman Annex is mostly prime real estate garden homes and rental homes in a gated community with the Little White House as the anchor property.

We didn't forget about going to lunch at Blue Heaven! We sat in chairs on a covered porch for only about five minutes to wait for a table. A few resident cats sauntered past us to get to their food bowls. We watched roosters, hens and chicks scratching in the giant planted areas. There was an outdoor shower stall with a funny sign that said, "$1 to shower. $2 to watch." Despite the super-casual, relaxed ambiance, the food was great. I had the loaded black bean bowl served with amazing cornbread - so good, hearty and vegetarian! Chad had one of the Blue Heaven Benedicts, and loved it. (Breakfast is served until 2:00 PM daily.) On our way out we spied a game yard with a ping-pong table. I  dragged Chad into the cute gift shop so I could buy a t-shirt and a Key Lime Pie scented candle. I love Blue Heaven! 

Once again, we returned to the hotel for reading, rest and relaxing in the air-conditioning. Chad took a dip in the pool, but I didn't want to redo hair and makeup. It's a whole thing.

We looked at online reviews for vegetarian-friendly restaurants when deciding where to go later in the evening for dinner. The Cafe billed itself as a mostly vegetarian place with seafood. I had an unimaginative veggie sandwich served with a side of bean salad swimming in too much vinegar. Chad's crab cakes looked really dense sitting atop a bed of soggy lettuce. The ambiance of The Cafe felt weighted a little more towards cruddy than towards charming. (Regular readers know that I'm a fan of charmingly cruddy places and design schemes.) In my non-foodie, very humble opinion, it was our only bad meal in Key West. Maybe the chef was having a bad night? The Cafe is enclosed with good air-conditioning. It had good reviews on tripadvisor.

We made the mistake of stepping into a fancy looking art gallery on Duval Street after dinner. We were just lookie loos wanting to catch a few minutes of air-conditioning. A gallery representative greeted us at the front door, followed us all over the place and explained each piece to us. We tried to smile and nod politely. I think after we made a complete lap of the gallery, and we weren't asking for art to be shipped to our home while handing over the Amex Black credit card, the gallery representative was exasperated with us. He spat out the words, "that piece is worth half a million dollars", when we didn't look dually impressed with a messy painting by the exit door. That's great, dude. Thanks. Bye.

As the sun started to set, we started a mini Duval Street pub crawl. When in Rome, right?  The general vibe of the Duval Street bars felt far from celebratory, fun or indulgent. Instead, the vibe felt sad, defeated and unhealthy. I won't name bar names. We chatted with two of the bartenders from our three pub crawl. The first bartender, a young lady, is a very recent transplant from Michigan who drove down with a friend to move to Key West on a whim. She arrived in Key West only ten days before, but already had three jobs to be able to make ends meet. She told us that she hears good things about Austin, and wants to go to a music festival in Austin. The second bartender we talked with is a man close to our age from the Martha's Vineyard area. He is an eight year veteran of Key West, and explained that we were there for the tail end of the high season in Key West. He said that most restaurant and bar employees work 80 hours a week during high season, then spend a lot more time at the beach during the low tourist season. He half-joked that he probably has carpal tunnel syndrome from chopping limes and muddling mint for all the mojitos he prepares.

Living and working in a tourist town seems difficult. Most jobs tend to be service sector, and most rents/real estate prices seem to be sky-high. We met a few cab drivers and hotel employees who were retired from their longtime careers in other places. Two of the people told us they live on houseboats. They think of Key West as paradise. I wish them all the best. 

Tune in tomorrow for a final account of the Key West travelogue featuring kayaking among the mangrove trees.

Museum Monday with Sunset Snorkel

Monday morning I was awakened at 4:45 by a rooster crowing. As I fumbled in the dark to find the earplugs I packed, I offered a telepathic message to the noise-maker. "Rooster, dear, I need you to get it together. It is still dark. Calm down. Shut your yap." After a few more hours of fitful dozing, I got up and made myself somewhat presentable for breakfast. Post-breakfast, I scolded the rooster aloud when we met up in the parking lot, suggesting he might want to visit a therapist about his anxiety-fueled vocalizations. 

Chad and I walked down Simonton Street toward the Key West Art & History Museum. We passed the usual T-shirt shops, cafes, day spas and bars along the way. One establishment that caught my attention in particular was the shopfront for Pirate Costumes of Key West & Key West Weddings. If you have your wedding on Key West it should be pirate themed? Clearly.

The Key West Art & History Museum is air-conditioned, not crowded and hosts interesting stuff to look at and read. We lingered and looked at EVERYTHING in that lovely air-conditioning. The exhibit on Hemingway's time in Key West mostly revolved around his fishing adventures. The exhibit on Key West's role in the Civil War was pretty interesting. Key West was actually a Union stronghold! As we walked up the grand stairway, we looked at illustrated excerpts from The Old Man and the Sea. The second floor housed an exhibit and information about Henry Flagler & his role in bringing the Overseas Railroad to Key West, along with the unfortunate destruction of the railroad line during the 1935 Labor Day Hurricane. We also viewed works by folk artist, Mario Sanchez, many of which were wood carved in relief painted in bright colors with scenes of everyday life. 

After the museum, we walked back down Duval Street: the more raucous end of which should not be viewed, or smelled, in the good light of daytime. We bought a coconut from a stand to drink. The proprietor of the stand drilled a small hole in the top for a straw. The coconut juice was yummy, but warm. File my suggestion to refrigerate the coconuts under "first world problems".

After a brief stop at our hotel room to cool off, we walked farther down the quiet end of Duval Street to the Banana Cafe for lunch. The Banana Cafe has a French theme to the menu. I had a veggie baguette. Chad had a crepe with a green salad on top. The food was simple with fresh ingredients.

Walking back to the hotel after lunch, I heard a noise coming from the bushes as I walked by them. I said to Chad, "There is something angry in those bushes." Upon closer inspection, I realized that the angry cluck came from a mama hen with her brood of ten baby chicks! They were so stinking cute! 

Later in the afternoon, we set out for a sunset snorkeling cruise with Fury Water Adventures. The crew members of the boat presented a perfect balance of fun and safety mindedness. Before setting out, the captain told us we would not be going to the barrier reef as planned due to three foot waves and low visibility. Instead we went to a shallow water shipwreck that only had six inch waves and much better visibility. The water was crystal clear, and the sunken ship served as a sort of reef. We saw clownfish, angelfish, grouper, a pufferfish and several kinds of coral. Chad spotted a big crab scuttling across the gulf floor. As we cruised back toward the dock after snorkeling, the boat captain turned the motor off for a few moments so we could watch the sunset. It was lovely, and our view was not blocked by a giant germ boat, I mean cruise ship. Snorkeling was my favorite activity during our trip to Key West. 

Tune in tomorrow (or maybe the next day, I get distracted) for more Key West travelogue featuring the Eco Discovery Center and Blue Heaven.

Sunday Funday in Key West: Sweets & Sweat

After breakfast at the hotel, we headed a few blocks south to Southernmost House for the 13th Annual Michelle's Willie Wonka Chocolate Festival to benefit the Cancer Foundation of the Florida Keys. For me, this was not about contributing to a noble cause, the festival flyer had me at "chocolate". A teenage guy wearing a polyester (that mess does not breathe, bless his heart) Willie Wonka costume greeted each guest, bravely smiling and directing guests to the chocolate fountains tent and baked goods as he handed out Golden Ticket stickers to wear for event entry. The chocolate festival boasted mostly baked goods and two different triple-tiered chocolate fountains. I sent a pretzel rod through the fountain. Chad opted for a banana. We shared. All was yum. From the crazy buffet of baked goods, we shared a slice of chocolate layer cake and an oreo-flecked brownie. The treats were rich for such a hot day. Chad and I quipped that we would pay "tourist money" for pints of milk to wash down the sweets. We had to settle for bottled water at $1.00 each. Note to planners of future Wonka festivals, charge $5 for a pint of milk to raise even more money for your cause. Southernmost House is a beautiful old Victorian-style mansion complete with Candyland color scheme and a fairytale turret, which provided a nice backdrop for the Willie Wonka theme.

After so much sweet stuff, we decided to move along. We rounded the street corner to an old sewer junction painted to look like a buoy that is known as Southernmost Point, meaning the southernmost point in the continental United States of America with only 90 miles over the Gulf of Mexico to Cuba. Chad and I did not stand in the long line stretching down the sidewalk to take a photo there. We're not big on selfies or on repeating postcard shots that everyone and their grandma take. It's enough that we were there and saw it.

On our walk to the next stop for the day, Hemingway House, we saw a family of chickens scratching the ground for foodstuffs. The mama hen had three, gawky teenage chicks with her.  They were a cute little family. This scene of free-roaming chicken families was to be repeated many times during our trip. *Click here* to read more about the chickens of Key West.

Hemingway is not my favorite author by a long shot. I enjoyed The Old Man and the Sea reasonably well when I had to read it for school, but didn't like For Whom the Bell Tolls. I mostly just wanted to see the polydactyl descendants of Hemingway's cats. On the information-packed tour of the Hemingway House, we were regaled with the history of the house itself, some history of Key West, juicy scandals surrounding Hemingway and his many wives, and yes, lots of extra-toed cats. Ship's crew liked to have cats with big paws aboard to combat the rodent situation. Cats with extra toes were prized, and thought to be better mousers. A boat captain gifted a polydactyl cat to Hemingway, and he loved it. Approximately forty cats live at the Hemingway House today. The tour guides know each cat's name. They are well fed and have free reign of the place. A veterinarian visits twice a week to check on the cats. Most of the cats are spayed/neutered, but a few of the polydactyl ones are allowed to keep the bloodline going. One feline fellow even allowed me to pet him. This napping cat was perfectly posed with his extra toes on display.

After our tour of the Hemingway House, we returned to the hotel to rest and try to stop sweating for a bit in the air conditioned room.

Chad and I wandered over to Blackfin Bistro just around the corner from our hotel for a late lunch. Blackfin Bistro was pleasantly dark and cool, a respite from the scorching afternoon sun. The decor drew me inside with seed glass pendant lighting, weathered-looking shiplap boards on the bar front and clean lines. Blackfin Bistro was crowded when we passed by it earlier in the day, but we were the only customers there at 3:00. I love having a place to ourselves. I had a brie, apple, avocado sandwich. Chad had a fish sandwich. We both had mimosas with fresh squeezed orange juice. (Seriously saw the bartender squeezing oranges.) So good!

After lunch, we again returned to the hotel to rest and try to stop sweating for a bit in the air conditioned room. (Along with spotting free-roaming chickens, returning to the room to cool down from the heat and humidity was another recurring motif during our trip to Key West.)

Later in the evening Chad and I walked down to Mallory Square to watch the sunset. Chad and I share an uncomfortable avoidance of street performers, so we didn't stop to watch anyone juggle flaming things, breakdance or swallow swords. I know, we're both total buzzkills. Unfortunately, there was a huge cruise ship blocking the view of the sunset from Mallory Square. We got out of the ship's shadow by walking down the boardwalk to the Westin Resort Pier, where we stood on a low retaining wall to watch the sunset. It was pretty over the water, and seemed to sink quickly into the gulf. There was no fanfare, clapping or even "ooh"s or "ahh"s from the audience. I mention this to serve as a contrast to the sunset show at The Oasis restaurant in Austin. As the sun starts to set, a bell is rung, the sunset is announced, after a moment of watching the sun sink to Lake Travis on the horizon, clapping and hooting erupt seemingly spontaneously. Toasts are made. That's how you gratefully and festively observe a sunset, people! A sunset is not properly celebrated from behind a huge cruise ship that blocks the view of the horizon.

Walking back towards our hotel from Mallory Square, we stopped for dinner at Mangoes on Duval Street, yet another outdoor seating establishment. I sometimes tire of being a vegetarian, and struggling to find meatless dishes at restaurants. It's like I'm stuck in a revolving door of: salad, veggie burger, bruschetta, caprese sandwich, when perusing menus. I had bruschetta and a salad for dinner. It was fine. Chad, however, was spoiled for choice as an omnivore who loves seafood. He had ceviche and liked it. Dessert was key lime pie (naturally) topped with a tiny shot of whipped cream to cut the tartness. This key lime pie was not too sweet and not too tart -- just right.

Gentle Readers, I am a jaded old soul. Very little is ever quiet as great as I think it will be despite constant attempts to manage my artfully high, crazy-creative expectations. I am an ambitious aesthete, always wanting more beauty, delight and surprise. It's my bedazzled albatross to bear. If sometimes my take on places and events seems overly critical and underwhelmed, I own it. This serves as my disclaimer that while not every aspect of our Key West vacation was dazzling, I really liked it overall.

Tune in tomorrow for more Key West travelogue and tales of sunset snorkeling.

Travelogue: Key West, Florida (a.k.a. The Conch Republic)

To plan our spring vacation I searched the interwebs for "best North American vacation for couples" and came up with Key West, because it offers great snorkeling, a relaxed atmosphere and might stay within budget. Chad loved the idea so much, that we booked flight and hotel within a few days of me suggesting Key West.

I did a bit of research before our trip, and learned that in 1982 U.S. border patrol roadblocks along the only road into Key West put a damper on the island's tourism. This prompted the mayor of Key West to announce secession from the United States of America to become The Conch Republic. The secession was short-lived, but successfully ended the border patrol roadblocks. Watch a video about it *here on travelchannel.com*. Happy Conch Republic Day on April 23! (Timely!)

Luckily, these days flights to Key West are abundant. The Key West airport is small compared to most tourist town airports, and the runway is short. The pilot warned us that we would feel a rapid deceleration upon landing with the implication being "don't be scared/no screaming or crying back there". Disembarking from the airplane down wobbly stairs to the tarmac, we were greeted by a retro-looking sculpture of a buoy and some families pointing at the buoy, or maybe reaching for each other's hands. Um... does anyone else find this sculpture a little creepy?

As we left the airport in a taxi bound for the hotel, I saw a big rooster sporting impressively colored plumage walking around near some picnic tables. When we arrived at our hotel another (or was it the same?!) big rooster sporting impressively colored plumage greeted us in the parking lot. There are many free roaming hens and roosters on Key West. More on that later.

Chad and I often turn to tripadvisor for help deciding where to stay, dine and play, which is how we found the Almond Tree Inn for our stay in Key West. Located near the quiet end of Duval Street on Truman Avenue, we easily walked to all the things we wanted to see on Key West. (The island is only 1.8 miles by 4 miles in area, so most things are walkable.) The rooms are thoughtfully appointed with Jonathan Adler-esque style. (Our room had cute cat ceramics on a feature shelf. It's like they knew me!) The hotel courtyard features a pool, a hot tub (no thanks, germs) and a man made waterfall with koi pond. An impressive continental style breakfast is served each morning on the lovely covered porch area. Happy Hour nibbles and drinks are served each evening.

Our first evening in Key West we walked around Duval Street a bit to get acclimated, stopping for dinner at the downtown location of Cuban Coffee Queen. I liked my black bean veggie burger from Cuban Coffee Queen served with plantain chips and a blue dumdum lollipop for dessert. Chad loves all things breakfast/egg and had Havana rice and beans with eggs. He liked it, but did not get a lollipop. I tried to convince Chad that the staff wasn't playing favorites with the unequal lollipop distribution, but I was clearly their favorite. Or possibly the lollipops only come with sandwiches.

Many of the restaurants in Key West, including the downtown location of Cuban Coffee Queen, have shaded or covered open air dining. It's hot and humid in Key West. If one holds still and there is a breeze, outdoor dining is semi-pleasant/semi-sweaty-making.

After dinner, Chad and I had a lazy swim in the hotel pool to cool ourselves before bedtime.

One of Austin's mottoes to promote local businesses "Keep Austin Weird", seems a little vanilla in comparison to bumper stickers/unofficial city mottoes I saw in Key West which read "Key West: a work free drug place" and "Key West: We do more in a week than most people do all day". Chillaxin' seems to be the name of the game down there. (Don't worry, law abiding citizens. We did not partake of any illegal drugs in Key West. We didn't even have to "just say no", because no one offered any.)

Tune in tomorrow for more Key West travel adventure tales.

Loving

Last year whilst visiting family in NC, I was my usual delightfully snarky, eye-rolling self, making fun of a "night-owl" event that lasted until *wait for it* 9:00 PM. My sister, probably tiring of my snark, asked "what do you like to do?" The truth is, I am a happy homebody and calculating observer. When I do leave the house, I like to be somewhere dark & quiet where I can fade into the lovely background. Conversely, I also like to be somewhere dark & cavy with a thumping bass where I can lose myself in trance-inducing dance music. I think I love acting, because I lose myself in portraying a character. I don't love much sun, wide open spaces or putting my true self on public display. I also don't like perusing rickety antique stores, surveying suburban shopping malls or feeling the hopeful eyes of an artist on me as I view their art: no matter if the art is good or bad. I'm far too empathetic for that kind of emotional pressure. 

People love a positive spin and easily viewed lists, so here is my love list for spring 2015.

• The Woman Who Stole My Life book • 

• LG top load washing machine • Battle Creek TV show • bee better tee •

I Quit... Again

I gave notice at that "bad decision" job. I feel a great weight lifted from my soul. I'm trying to keep my departure amicable and professional, so no thinly-veiled details. Yet.

It doesn't help that "bad decision" employer doesn't provide parking, and that my parking contract goes from $160 a month up to $263 a month effective April 1. No foolin'. I canceled that expensive mess. My commute typically takes only ten minutes to get from my centrally located, charmingly cruddy neighborhood to downtown, then twenty minutes of navigating ever-changing lane closures downtown to enter the nine story parking structure to try and find a parking spot into which my MINI can squeeze.

Also, working retail and climbing ladders aggravates my bunionette. Also, working retail and climbing ladders does not jive with my upcoming surgery to correct said foot affliction. *shudder*

Rolling up to work last Friday morning to see the sidewalk on the opposing corner covered in blood, police and police-tape hindered my overall sense of well-being. An attempted robbery of Starbucks with two marines playing superhero left a trail of mayhem. Click here for the factual-ish story.

My last day at my current job lines up with the last day of my parking contract.

I won't miss the scent of meth-tainted urine or alcohol-fueled bad decisions of downtown Austin.

I am quitting another job.

Next!

Neither Precious Nor Darling

Ever noticed how adding the suffix -ette to a word makes it cuter, more diminutive or dare I say, darling? 

Rock+ette= those lovely leggy dancers. So much more fun to watch than a rock.

Flower+ette= something already lovely made smaller, likely more abundant and presumably cuter.

Kitchen+ette= that room from whence food comes compacted to an easier to manage & easier to clean size.

Bunion+ette= a foot deformity not near the big toe like a regular bunion, but by the little toe or metatarsophalangeal joint. 

I have a bunionette on my left foot from too many years working in retail, performing as a dinner theatre actress and wearing high heels. Also, my left leg may be a tiny bit longer than my right leg, and I have flat feet with wide toes, which certainly doesn't help my pitiable foot situation. My bunionette is neither precious, nor darling. It is not dimuniutive. My bunionette is red, inflamed, angry and seems to be growing. 

It may be time for yours truly to get a desk job. 

I wonder if I can start a crowdsourced funding campaign for my future bunionette correction surgery and physical therapy?

Most importantly, where can I buy cute and stylish orthopedic shoes?

Click here for more fascinating facts about bunionettes.

Want from West Elm

picture • candle • toaster • clock • dish • breakfast stand tray • orange stripe pillow 

 grey chevron pillow • bubble knit pillow • crewel lattice pillow in lagoon blue

Laundromat Observations

Our washer broke. I know one shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but I never liked that fussy, front loading washer. Goodbye. A new top loading, still high efficiency, energy star washer will be delivered this week! Chad and I can't wait! Also one of the cats barfed on the bed, and we had a backlog of laundry, so we really couldn't wait to do laundry, and went to the laundromat today.

Our trip to the laundromat made me feel simultaneously like one of the people, proletariat, working class; and also bourgeois, snobbish, gentry class that we can afford to buy a new washer to replace our old one, and that we have a house with a laundry hookup.

The walls in the laundromat bear battle scars of rolling carts. The ceiling tiles sag with brown water stains. The smell is a combination of chemically scented detergents, disinfectant and the vague burnt odor of textiles left in the dryer too hot for too long. The fluorescent lights aren't doing anyone any favors in the beauty category. Handwritten "out of order" signs pepper the machines. Two giant TVs mounted from the ceiling are mercifully muted with subtitles and one has a grainy picture, but it's showing a cruddy movie with commercial interruptions, so who really cares.

We fold our laundry at the laundromat, not wanting wrinkles to set in. In front of the other laundromat patrons, it occurs to me that my PJs are looking rough. I need some nicer, new ones. Chad folds some of his more colorful skivvies with a hint of a sheepish grin. We team up to fold our king-size, high thread count bedding like we're royalty or something.

Later, back at home, I'm less than pleased to discover that our clean laundry does not smell like the environmentally-friendly, natural lavender and blue eucalyptus detergent and dryer sheets that I love and use loyally, but like the residue of so many strangers' Tide, Gain and Bounce.

I'm thankful that we can afford a new washer. I'm also thankful that we're not above going to the laundromat when necessity dictates it.

My Three Worst Job Interviews Countdown

#3: I answered an advertisement for a sport clothing salesperson with a major distributor (think t-shirts, shorts, polo style shirts, sneakers, flip-flops). I should have politely declined when the hiring manager asked me to meet him at a Wendy's fast food restaurant (in a pre-Starbucks-in-every-city era), but I was fresh out of college and fairly desperate for employment.

At Wendy's, I met at a small table for two with a poorly groomed, sweaty, not very confident recruiter. He opened a binder and began showing me pyramid shaped distribution charts, I immediately clued in that this was a multi-level marketing scheme; not a job, but an investment opportunity, that I did not want in the least. Within five minutes I wished the poor guy well and made a hasty exit. He called out after me that I wasted his time. I resisted the urge to reply that he should not have misled me about the "job" and thus wasted my time. He made me sad for many reasons, chiefly because he looked like the opposite of success, the antithesis of aspirational.

#2: The manager (this time at a bonafide, brick and mortar, workplace) met with me in her corner office. She did all the talking, telling me about her history with the company, and how she rose through the ranks after starting as a lowly receptionist. I hardly got a word in edgewise. I'm not sure she asked me many questions, but I guess I said enough to impress her, or at least did not spoil the delusion that I was a younger version of her. I left thinking I totally blew the interview.

I got the job, staying there for about eighteen months, one promotion, one huge raise and one annual bonus. It was a terrible fit culturally, but impressive work experience and financially lucrative. Had the interviewer/my boss bothered to let me speak more, we both might have realized how out of sync the job was for me and I was for it.

#1: Fresh from a former retail management stint, I interviewed at a very cloistered, but very well respected workplace that was founded as a family business in Texas and grew beyond the state's borders. I met first with a young man who didn't bother to explain what his role at the company was. He shook my hand, said his name, and started talking. He asked good questions. I answered them well. First indications pointed to a good job match.

Then the young man asked if I could meet with another person and essentially have my second interview right then and there. Sure! After a ten minute wait, during which I completed application paperwork, a lady appeared in the office. She was not introduced to me, but began having a conversation with the young man as if I wasn't in the room. Context clues led me to believe that this was the man's mother, also his boss, and the heiress to the family business. Later sleuthing confirmed all of this.

After a few moments of ignoring my existence, she glanced at my résumé, and said, "What's J.Crew?" Before I could answer, the son let out a micro-sigh of exasperation and said, "You know what J.Crew is. You have clothes from there." Then the mom asked why I only stayed employed at J.Crew for four months. I politely, but firmly stated that I was employed at J.Crew for two years and four months. "Oh, I misread that," she said with a dour expression and no apology. She asked if I had any children, displeased when I said no. She asked if I had pets, and completely tuned out when I started to talk about my two cats (at the time). "I don't hire cat-people," she barked dismissively. I defended my love of all companion animals by saying that I wanted a dog, but my rental agreement didn't allow it. She seemed somewhat appeased, and said that I would have to submit to a background check and drug test. No worries. I leaped through background check hoops with flying colors when I got my Securities Exchange Commission Series 6 License a few years before.

After leaving the interview, I knew the job was mine, but that Mama Bear and I would continually butt heads if I worked there. Within the hour I called Baby Bear (the son, with whom I interviewed first) and told him to please pull my application from consideration. He seemed surprised, and asked why. I couldn't tell him that his mom/boss was awful, and that I could never work with her or for her. I said I'd rather not give a reason, and thanked him for his time.

Bad Decision

I made a bad decision. I took a job that I now hate.

I was in a semi-desperate, sleep-deprived state of on-call, part-time employment, when the recruitment offer came. My former employment situation was somewhat similar to being in a cult, but without the support network or uplifting sing-alongs. I allowed myself some magical thinking when the new job offer came on a day I had worked at my previous employer from 3:00 AM to 8:00 AM. I saw the monetary benefits and the promise of more reasonable working hours at the new/current employer, and loved the idea! I also fell victim to a bit of bait and switch, thinking that I was hired as the visual coordinator (a.k.a. the make-it-pretty-boss) at my new/current employer. In reality, I spend most of my working hours assisting customers and dealing with customer service issues when other employees over-promise and under-deliver.

I'm a bit of an introvert with an outgoing personality. I put on a good show of loving people and handling interpersonal challenges efficiently, but too much time interacting with people drains my energy. I need quiet time to finish projects and think about things, versus a constant barrage of interruptions and forced interactions.

An unreasonably irate customer called the store today. Unluckily, I answered the call. He proceeded to yell at me, curse at me and then tell me to quit apologizing. One of his verbal gems, "I don't know what the hell to do, maybe jump off the roof. I want the damn jacket I ordered." I managed to finally get the man's name and phone number, told him not to jump off the roof, and that I would research the situation before getting back to him. I did research the issue and outline some good possible solutions. Then I begged another more-seasoned, male employee to call the awful customer back with some options for problem resolution. The customer apologized profusely to the older male employee for how he treated me, even offering to apologize to me directly if I wanted to call him back. No. I never want to talk to that awful customer again. Never, ever.

The majority of my working life has been spent in retail, thus reflected on my résumé. The job offers I get are for retail or sales positions. And I never want to work in retail or sales again. Never, ever.

I'm going to speak with a career counselor before I jump into another job. I never want to be the square peg forced into the round hole again. Never, ever.

Now I need to figure out how much longer I can bear to stay at my current job. I never want to utter the words, "I don't know what the hell to do, maybe jump off the roof." Never, ever.

Merry Christmas

hazy shade of winter tidings

candy cane ribbon & outdoor ornaments, oh my!

the wreath that won't fit under the security door

close-up of our needle-thin living room tree

stockings hung on the pub mirror with care

dining room runner with modern touches of gold, incense & myrrh

throw some green & red on that ottoman

ancient wise one (17!) with her holiday flair pillow

tiny floor chandelier in the bedroom with pastels aglow

snail reminds me to slow down, reflect, and enjoy Christmas

As I struggle through days as a retail manager/visuals coordinator, I wish you and yours the merriest, most peaceful Christmas. Be kind to one another. Quit shopping and snuggle in for a few days.

Made Some Pretty

I styled a bookshelf for a property management group. They wanted a neutral color palette with minimal objects, and some of the minimal objects needed to be lions. I think it's great for a modern office setting. Also, I got paid!

Then I made it snow in downtown Austin. It involved climbing ladders, lifting, peeling, sticking, stapling, stringing, scattering and unrolling. Oh, and redressing some mannequins.

After I finished the winter windows at work, the tailor from my store came and gave me a hug. For context, I should mention that English is his second language. He said, "You the best. Congratulations!" 

I replied, "Thanks. Why?"

He explained with lots of hand gestures, "Those windows. Everybody on the sidewalk stop and look at the sport coats. You the best!" 

Then my store manager who seldom doles out compliments, said the windows looked "great" and thanked me for updating them. Also, I got paid. 

I miss having free time to go to the gym, have hobbies, socialize and keep the 1952 House sparkly clean, but I like getting paid. Also, I like compliments on my work.

Working Downtown

RIGHT LANE CLOSED AHEAD
LEFT LANE CLOSED AHEAD
2 RIGHT LANES MUST TURN RIGHT
2 LEFT LANES MUST TURN LEFT
MERGE RIGHT
(The only open lane, on the far right) MUST TURN LEFT
PARKING GARAGE (for which I pay $160 a month) FULL
VALET PARKING ONLY
CAR2GO PARKING ONLY
NO EVENT PARKING
NO PARKING EVER

And that's just on the way into work. Today was a rare occasion when Chad and I carpooled into downtown together, because he had fancy meetings of minds.

Chad met me at my workplace at the end of the day. As we stood at the busy intersection across from my urine-and-vomit-scented parking garage for which I pay $160 a month, a man came walking towards us calling out, "Brian, Brian. Hold up, Brian." The walk sign lit up, and several people including Chad and I started across the street. "Brian's friend" started walking into my path, stopping when I stopped and slowing when I slowed, effectively herding me out of the crosswalk. I stopped and took a step backwards, saying, "please, after you." Brian's friend stopped too. Finally, I just made my way to my destination curb, not caring if he tried to get in my path. Brian's friend said to Chad, "give me a dollar." Chad replied, "sorry, I don't have any cash." The whole time, we walked in stutter steps as he tried to herd me off of the sidewalk, never touching me or stepping on my feet, but barely missing. I had pepper spray in my hand, trigger finger on the spray button. With my other hand, I must have touched my hair, because Brian's friend said, "That's it. Run your hand through your hair, girl." I stopped, turning to face Brian's friend fully, giving him a steely (yet terrified) gaze. He responded, "Oh, are you gonna call the cops on me?" I thought he had a novel idea, so as loudly as I could, (remember I am a trained actress who knows how to project my voice) I yelled the name of my work building's security guard, "Bruuuuuuuuce!" Brian's friend did not care for this. He stopped in his tracks. Took a few steps backwards and looked at me as if I might be mentally ill. Good. Once I got into my car in the parking garage, I gave in to a slight fight or flight meltdown after locking the car doors. Then I drove Chad and myself home in terrible traffic.

I hate downtown.

Aging, Wealthy & Rocking Out

Last Saturday Chad and I got to rub elbows with the rich & infamous at a Formula One concert event starring Duran Duran. I won the pair of tickets courtesy of a media conglomerate by retweeting a message about their sponsorship of the event. (Thanks, media conglomerate!) I would never purchase such extravagant concert tickets myself, as the face value for the pair was $1350. *gulp*

The event venue, ACL Live, (Austin City Limits' huge new-ish studio) is impressively cavernous with great sight lines from every seat giving the convincing illusion of an intimate space. I won't complain about the open bar or elegantly artful catered buffet of appetizers on the mezzanine level. Nor will I complain about our fabulous reserved seats. Duran Duran put on an amazing performance, still very talented, still very gifted musicians and showmen.

I will, however, complain about the aging, wealthy, drug-fueled fellow-concert-goers: people old enough to know better, but apparently too rich to care. Side note: I have never partaken of an illegal substance, but have heard anecdotal evidence from those who have, and certainly read many studies, essays and fictional works about recreational drug-users. If I can look at the sad, over-botoxed, over-self-starved, woman dancing by herself wearing a sequined mini-dress and know with 90% certainty that she took more than one hit of ecstasy, that is beyond sad. If I can rebuff the aggressive, 60-something year old man, wearing his khaki cords with shoes matching belt and tucked-in plaid button-down, who repeatedly pulled on my elbow telling me to stand up and dance, knowing that his frivolity is cocaine-powered, that is also sad. If I worriedly watch the 40-something lady with her 60-something hairdo, shakily climb the stairs to the exit after she danced and yell-sang along with the entire concert with multiple fresh drinks in her hand throughout the show, that is sad, and she needs to fire her hairdresser. I hope all of these drug-addled & alcohol-addled people were within stumbling-distance of their hotels.

I enjoyed seeing Duran Duran perform, loved the venue and had the handsomest date there. BUT, 85% of the people around us made me sad with their aging, overindulged states. I never want to be that person.

I want to nest in my little sanctuary of a cozy house, and maybe just listen to Duran Duran's greatest hits next time they are in town, especially if the tickets are that expensive.

Happy Halloween!

Chad's Frankenstein's monster homage is so expressive and evocative. My headless horseman woodcut style pumpkin is perhaps too meta and overwrought. Once again, Chad wins pumpkin carving.

Happy Halloween. Be safe. Have fun.

BYOP 2014

The Sweet Things Table: Kettle Corn, Pumpkin Whoopie Pies & Apple Fritters

Pumpkin Carving Tools After Washing

Let's Do This

It's about to get real. Real pumpkiny. BYOP (Bring Your Own Pumpkin) party is tonight, and preparations began about a month ago.

That blue smudge is almost certainly (not) a ghost, right? I hope it's a friendly ghost.

We totally confused the fireflies. 

Without the ghost this time.

Hector, our giant spider, made his annual appearance.

No Idea What I'm Doing & No Time To Do It

Hey. I have been quite busy with the new-ish full-time job as the Visuals Coordinator / Supervisor (yes, two job titles for one person & yes, two jobs to be done simultaneously) at a clothing retailer, a freelance stylist project for a property management group and trying to maintain a social life.

I am not in super-love with my new job, but want to do the best work I can there. When my self-imposed year is done at this job, a few bills are paid off and money is saved for school, I am wondering if I should become a certified veterinary technician with a future goal of becoming a pet physical therapist or if I should go back to "real college" (as in not a community college with a certificate program, but a four-year accredited college for another bachelor's degree) to study interior design with a future goal of becoming an interior designer who specializes in commercial spaces. (How was that for a run-on sentence?)

I find working with pets, especially shelter/rescue group pets to be so rewarding. I like to slow down and observe a dog or cat to get a sense of what they need to feel safe, healthy and loved. Purrs and tail wags more than make up for the lower salary that this career field might fetch. I also love designing spaces for form, function and aesthetic appeal. I would focus on commercial spaces for interior design, because I can't bear to work with bored rich people who have forty five names for beige and really just want you to compliment their great taste, not really to give up one iota of control to let you help them design their space. No thank you very much. I'm truly torn between these two options. Luckily, I have ten and a half months to decide.

BTW: Be sure to check out my instagram photos on the widget to the right of this blog or follow me "therealjennc" on instagram to see more of my work & whimsy.