jogging pants.

They never fail to disappoint me. My jogging pants.

No matter how bad or stressful or dressed up my day has been, as soon as I slip on my jogging pants, life feels a little more comfortable.

But to not feel like a total frump (because, let’s face it, jogging pants have that reputation), I like to throw on a silk robe  for a little luxe.

To accompany the jogging pants and robe, I like a cup of hot coffee.

I have a Keurig machine (a bridal shower gift three years ago) and can brew a single cup of coffee in under 26 seconds. It’s awesome, because I love to drink a lot of coffee. Especially when I’m at my Mac.

At my day gig, I use a PC. But I prefer Macs. This is a topic of great debate around the office, which is no surprise since we’re basically a room full of people who never seem to log off. We all like our gadgets – some more than others, he-hem – and my gadget of choice happens to be a slim, white Mac. And a Blackberry.

I recently took this shot of myself (the one above) with my BB because, according to Rob, the “light was good”. I wish we had a great camera (like one of those Cannons or Nikons) because I’d like to use more of Rob’s photographs on my blog. Could be fun to collaborate, I guess. Although I don’t think this photo turned out so well, so maybe his “lighting” suggestion was a bit off?Not sure.

I use my BB a lot for photos. Lately there’s been some interesting stuff to shoot. I’m just trying to capture the moments, I guess, for those days when I forget to enjoy the interesting stuff. Pictures, good or bad, are always a great thing. Even the ones of you in jogging pants.

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i’ll be here next week… and i’m excited.

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It’s my first time, and I’m pumped. Rob and I have needed a little down time for a while now… feels like we’re both going a million miles and hour these days (which I kind of love… better busy than bored, I always say); but a little R&R is good for the soul, so we’ve booked four lovely days in San Francisco. We’ve planed a tour of Alcatraz and one of those cheesy city tours (I find you always get the best 411 that way) plus, we’ll be renting a convertible for a day in Napa Valley. Maybe a red one.

Any San Fran haunts you can recommend to a gal and her fella?

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i’m the kind of girl who gets around, apparently.

These last few days there’s been what’s known ’round these parts as a “spike in traffic” on the blog. Like, wow. Where did it come from? How did you find me? And, hey baby, what’s your sign?

Kidding.

But seriously, just a little note to say “hello” to my new visitors and thank you for coming over to my place; and, if you’re a regular readers who kindly passed along my blog to someone, thank you a million times, because, truthfully, it’s the greatest compliment to have my work passed on.

Come back soon y’all.

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confidence. here’s the map. now dig, damn it.

Confidence. It’s like a drug.

Once you get a taste of that rush – that feeling that makes you feel like you can do anything – you want more.
When the confidence wears off (and it always does) we come down from its high in a hard, heart-breaking crash.
Suddenly it’s over. And all of its powers vanished – gone as quickly as they came.

And then the hunt begins.

You start wondering to yourself, “where has my confidence gone?”
You lie awake at night, bug-eyed and confused about the last place you left it; you wonder who is responsible for its disappearance. And that’s when the accusations begin to fly:

“My boss stole my confidence”
“My ex robbed me of every last bit of confidence I had”
“My friend borrowed my confidence, but didn’t give it back”

Blame. It’s a stage we experience once the confidence fades. But be cautious – this is just a rouse – losing confidence will make you paranoid; it makes our index finger razor sharp, ready to be pointed in the direction of the nearest person who feels bigger and stronger than you do. But doing this will only make your confidence fade faster, for you are giving “the other” the power that you need so much. Tread lightly.

When your stash of confidence runs low, be weary of the company you keep. Stay in close contact with those who will share their personal reserve of confidence with you. They are out there. Keep them close. And ask a lot of questions – they may know where you can find more.

Like I said, confidence is a drug, and everybody wants some.

So, where to find your confidence again? Who deals this stuff in copious amounts?

Well, surprise, dear friend, you’re the dealer.

You begin to recall that it was you who hid your confidence, in an effort to preserve it and keep it safe. But, I’m here to tell you that this is not how confidence breeds itself – if hidden and stifled this way, it will fade.

The only way to make more confidence is to enjoy it’s high; thrive on its pleasure. But beware not to flaunt what you have it in abundance. Nobody likes a show-off.

There are thieves who may want a piece of your confidence and will attempt to steal your reserve. Don’t be angry – these thieves are human, too; they feed on the confidence of others, unable to find their own. But don’t let these bottom-feeders scare you – they are in your way for a reason: To remind you that your personal brand of confidence is like a sweet, savory prime-rib – only the very best – and everybody wants some.

And then you remember that your confidence is the shit. The Cat’s Meow.

So go strongly and with determination in the direction of your confidence. It’s waiting for you, hiding under your box of insecurities and bag of self-doubt – dig, dig! It’s there! Keep digging. And when you find it again (and you will) and you recognize it’s texture, taste and smell, don’t hold back – bite into it, get hungry; you’ve been waiting for this.

Digest.

Now write down these directions, should you lose your confidence again. Remember it’s fleeting – this makes its value high. But next time you’ll know the way back to it… you’ll remember where you left it, buried deep down inside.

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My last day with my lunch bag and why I don’t feel guilty about quitting my job.

yes, I even write these things down.

I used to obsessively watch my BlackBerry.

I was certain that, if I stared long enough, I could will the little red light to flash with some good news: An email from a magazine wooing me to write profiles on famous people; a publisher deciding that my thoughts on personal reinvention deserved a deeper look; a job opportunity to top all others.

But none of those messages ever came. And the flashing light never told me what to do.

Most days I just got junk mail about penis enlargements, cheap brides from Russia and texts from my mom: “Hi its mom you never call me love you”.

Eventually, I got tired of waiting for things to come to me.

For months, I stayed on at a great job doing what I know and “sticking with it” as I had been urged to do so many times. “You should appreciate that you’re a working journalist”, they would say (who is this ‘they’ anyway, am I right?). And I listened, because they were right. Technically.

But screw technicality when you’re trying to find the right answers – nothing well deserved was ever earned by accident.

one burberry knock-off lunch tote for sale.

For months it felt like I was trying to walk through a door where the ceiling was too low. I just didn’t fit. I tried hard to change my way of thinking, to be less ‘me’ and more of what a good employee should be. But I really suck at pretending, which is probably why I never became an actor. Or real estate agent. Or a psychiatrist . When something sucks, I’ll be the first person to say so, which has it pros and many, many cons that accompany that mind set. But that’s just who I am.

But then, a few weeks ago, I read something that turned my light bulb on again – made it fire up. I ingested one big fat lesson that lifted any guilt I had about wanting to leave my stick-with-it-good-gig-for-a-journalist job:

“It’s hard to appreciate what you have when you don’t want it anymore.”

Forget feeling guilty about wanting to purge, I thought, about wanting to reinvent my way of thinking. About wanting to make the opening to that door a little bigger. Because if there’s one thing I wish I knew years ago (take note, my lovely 20somethings) there’s no need to hate something in order to walk away from it. Walk away when the time is right, not when the mood is wrong.

Ask yourself: Why wait until something is horrible to move on?

Sure, it’s hard to walk away from something great, I get that, but it’s only hard to walk away until you realize that it’s the only way to get to where you really want to be.

Maybe it’s because I’m feeling sentimental about leaving my friends here at work or maybe I’ve been drinking? (um, save that for later). But this is the post I want to look back on if I doubt my decision to pull up my sleeves, take my coffee cup, Burberry knock-off lunch bag and a shit load of office supplies and walk in the other direction.

No flashing lights necessary.

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