What I Learned in 2013: And other crap that's kinda relevant.

2013 is coming to a close. Wait. What? It's been a whole year??? Yup! And oh what a year it has been! This year has been a really big year for me personally and I want to share some things I've learned.

1. It's ok to go on your own path - even if it causes your parents (I'm looking at you, Mom!) to constantly question, "What are you doing with your life??" I've never been a traditional kind person and I don't know why I ever thought that I could go down a traditional path and feel fulfilled. I've always done things in my own time, and for the first time, I'm embracing it. Thank you, 2013 for that. It's scary as bleepity bleep bleep - but in a good way.

That first one was a big one - so let's take it down a notch

2. Almost everything cooks in the microwave for 3 minutes. For years I have been hovering over my microwave waiting and checking and waiting and checking. Nope. Not anymore. Very rarely is anything over or under heated if you set the timer for 3 minutes. I now spend that time checking Twitter. Follow me @kunemployeddiva #shamelessplug #sorrynotsorry

3. People pleasing is always a no-no. I always thought helping and doing everything to please others as much as I could was a good thing. ERRRR! Wrong. Very wrong. Super duper wrong. With cherries on top. I had an epiphany. People pleasing is not only damaging to you, but also to the people you love. How, you ask? When you are doing something to please someone else at the expense of yourself - it helps no one. You resent yourself for not standing by your convictions and resent the person that put you in that position in the first place. I'm not saying to completely disregard others - what I'm saying is that doing something for someone should never give you that icky exasperated feeling. You know which one I'm talking about. Don't even play like you don't.

4. It's ok to love yourself AND to want to work on yourself all at the same time. Say it with me now. YOU. CAN. LOVE. YOURSELF. AND. WANT. TO. WORK. ON. YOURSELF. ALL. AT. THE. SAME. TIME. Seriously. Repeat it over and over until it sinks in. I'm going to warn you - it is not going to be easy. We have been taught by the media, old school thinking and a whole bunch of other places that the only way to love ourselves is if the person looking back from the mirror is what society sees as 'perfection'. For me, this applies to the way I feel about my body. For as long as I can remember, I have hated the way I've looked. Hated it. Despised it. And had in the back of my head for every second of every minute of every hour of every day that I was worthless because I didn't look like how I thought I should. That's a lot of emotional baggage to carry around. 2013 taught me that I really can find ways to love and accept myself and still want to improve and grow. I could probably do a whole series on this topic, but for now this is all I'm going to say about it.

5. Last, but certainly not least. Thank you 2013 for teaching me that there are going to be times when you are a good friend to someone, but they are incapable of showing you how much you mean to them. And also, there are going to be times when people are good friends to you and that you are incapable of showing them how much they mean to you. This year I have been both a good friend and (admittedly) a shitty friend. When I'm going through something the first thing I do is clam up because I think the last thing anyone wants to hear about it someone else's problems. To friends that reach out during that 'going through some stuff' period - I'm in solitary mode and am not receptive to others. Is this healthy?? Probably not. Is it behavior that I'm working on and trying to modify? Yup. Do I still value your friendship and respect you and want you there. but just at a distance for awhile? Totally.

2013 has been quite a year in both good ways and bad, but we've made it to 2014. I'm not really a person that follows resolutions, but I will say this, last February I signed a year long contract for personal training. I've used maybe 8 sessions all year. I've spent over $1200 on it. I solemnly resolve to never do that shit again and to cancel it before I get charged for another month.

Be safe everyone and have a Happy New Year!

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

Rain Drops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens...

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens.

Brown paper packages ties with string. 

These are a few of my favorite things... 

The Christmas Countdown is officially upon us!!! YAY!!! With 9 days left until Santa comes, I thought I would talk a little today about Christmas trees. All Oh Tannebaum, Oh Tannebaum style.


This history of the Christmas Tree is actually quite interesting. The basic gist is: Before Christianity, ancient people were fascinated by plants that stayed green all year round. They thought the always green plants had special powers and they used them to help bring the sun back. You see, most cultures believed that the sun was a god and in the Winter, when the days became dark and dreary, these magical evergreens were thought to help make the sun god stronger. In those times - stronger sun = warmer weather = planting season = crops = get in my belly.

The Christmas Tree that we all know and love today came to us from Germany. Most Germans would bring evergreens inside their homes, display them on a wooden pyramid, and decorate them with nuts and berries. Eventually they brought in full trees (much smaller than the floor to ceiling trees that we cherish today) and decorated them with hand made ornaments.

What really surprised me about the history of the Christmas tree is that America, as a whole, was ANTI-CHRISTMAS TREE!!! for a decent amount of time. The original colonists a.k.a the Puritans thought Christmas trees were pagan symbols and made a mockery of the church. Basically, anything Christmasy was frowned upon and anyone who celebrated was deemed a heathen and thereby shunned. As a colonist you were punished for hanging decorations. Way to be joy suckers, pilgrims.

It wasn't until there was an influx of German and Irish immigrants in the 19th century that the Christmas Tree came back in to style. Yay!!! Once electricity made its way onto the scene - people started decorating their trees with strands of lights. Ornaments, for the most part, were still handmade and being shipped from Germany to the U.S. Once mass production started taking place, we no longer looked to Germany to supply our ornaments and produced them in the States.

What is so cool about this whole transformation is that these days each family has their own traditions when it comes to this blessed tree. Some cut it down fresh. Others have artificial trees. Some go to lots and buy a pre cut tree. Then there are the lights and ornaments! Twinkle? Chaser? Multi-colored? White? Themed ornaments? Heirloom ornaments? Natural ornaments? Small? Big? Electronic moving ornaments? It's crazy. The options are endless, and just like how everyone has a unique Christmas Dinner (ham? turkey? pasta? 5 cup salad? brussel sprouts?), each Christmas Tree is as unique as the people who decorate it.

In my family, my mom goes artificial and likes to decorate the tree herself to make sure each ornament is placed just right. My dad likes a fresh cut tree and don't even think about bowing out of the mandatory tree decorating ceremony where we all dig through old boxes and hear the same stories about how and when we found each ornament as we find the sturdiest of branches for some of the heaviest ornaments I have ever seen. I'm looking at you crazy moving train globe ornament. 

Me? I like a mixture of small multicolored led lights under a layer of old fashioned, big as your fist bulbs to give the tree a 'glowing from within' look. My tree is basically an expression of where I've been and cool artsy crafts that I've done... Some things on my tree aren't even supposed to be tree ornaments, but I don't care. They look cool.

In my opinion, the ornaments people put on their tree is a small glimpse into their soul. So, may I present:

My soul (a.k.a. my Christmas Tree Ornaments)

Who doesn't love Mickey and Minnie? I mean, they've been married for decades.

Mt. Vernon in the snow. Ah, George Washington. History.

Model A Ford from Greenfield Village. What up Henry Ford and Thomas Edison reference!

Every year the White House does an ornament. This is from 2012. I believe it is the Roosevelts.

I made this. My air is in that glass bubble. It is a complete globe. I am amazed that I managed not to make a lumpy blob. It's glass. I blew glass.

To me, this is delightfully whimsy. Styrofoam balls? Frosty face? Count me in.

Another Mt. Vernon ornament. What can I say? I like history.

Martha Stewart came out with a whole line of retro ornaments. I LOVE THEM!!! All of the coolness from the 50's without having to worry about their delicate nature. These are 'shatter resistant'.

Get it? A light ornament? A light that's not a light? Get it? Cheeky little thing you are.

My sidekick, Bella, prevents me from having real tinsel (dogs + tinsel = bad bad bad) so this is a cool way to go vertical and sparkly!!

If you know me at all, you know that I love shoes and all things girl. For years and years people have given me shoe ornaments. I have to be careful about the placement of all of these gems because it could cross the line from shoe enthusiast to a foot fetish tree. 

This big ol' sparkly tassel is not an ornament. It is supposed to be a gift wrapping enhancement. Not anymore!

The Famous Christmas Pickle. Last ornament placed on the tree and whoever finds it first, gets an extra present from Santa.

Ta Da! P.S. This tree is bigger than my Honda. I might have underestimated its girth... or overestimated the size of my living room. Note to self:: You are not P. Diddy. You do not own a McMansion.

Well that's all I have for today kids!  I hope everyone has a joyous Holiday season filled with lots of love and patience and good food and endless viewings of Christmas Vacation and The Christmas Story.

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

Bull Penises and dogs.

Random fact of information: You can buy packages of bull penises to give to dogs as treats... um... ok? I mean, yeah the bull is dead, but just looking at those 30 penises all shriveled and gnarly gives me the shivers. 30 penises. 30. That means that more bulls than can fit in my front yard are now dead and without penis. All I'm saying is my sidekick, Bella, will be passing on the penis snacks. Seriously.

I encourage you not to do a google search entitled 'bull penis' you cannot unsee certain things.

Anyway - just thought I would share this lovely piece of information on a sunday - the day of rest (and now bull penises)

In other news - I am on my way to a nut and apricot roll making party. :) Woot woot! And then
I plan on hitting the gym - HARD. MY diet bet is up on Saturday and I want to make sure I get my money back.

Hope everyone is having a great weekend!!!

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

P.S. Been having a debate recently about live Christmas trees - when is the optimal time to buy/cut one down and bring it inside so that it will still have needles and not look dead by Christmas?!? Leave a comment below with your thoughts or hit me up in twitter @kunemployeddiva

The Faces of Yoga

Part of being on this physical well-being journey is trying new exercise activities (mat pilates, working out with a personal trainer, aqua fit, spinning, hiking, free weights, etc). Most of these endeavors leave me shaking, sweating, gasping for air, and ready to reenact that water dropping scene from Flashdance. My muscles hate me right now.

You're Welcome.

So... this morning I did yoga for the first time in a loooong time. I used to practice yoga quite frequently, and even though I have always been voluptuous, I could balance, stretch and hold some crazy positions with the best of them.

Imagine a large, white woman in Jayden Smith's place. Except I wouldn't dangerously perch on the rooftop of an 8 story building while wearing kung fu shoes, corn rows, or a beater.

As I looked around the room I realized that while most people had the look of zen, I looked like I was trying to outrun zombies. I'm ok with that. Zen will come. Hopefully before the zombies. I thought I would share some of my crazy faces with you, perhaps to help you feel more confident when working out but if not, then to give you a hearty laugh this morning at my expense. Either way, good times.

May I present:

The Faces of Yoga

 

 

Sure! I'll try yoga. First thing in the morning. After not doing it for what seems like an eternity... Surely I have not lost too much strength and can still do everything that I did before!

This is not what I imagined.

Um. Ok. I can kind of feel this stretch... I don't remember breathing being so hard.

WHERE ARE MY ABS?!? I mean, I have to still have them, right? RIGHT?!?!

HOLD THE POSITION! Has time stopped? Have you recently changed the batteries in your stopwatch??? This is not 20 seconds. I'm serious. *comes up with plans on how to murder every clock in existence*

I think I farted. That or it was my foot on the mat. Who can be sure? Nope. Definitely a fart.

Did anyone else notice my fart?

Anyone? And do I really look like that? Geesh! Why would anyone want to see themselves 400 times in the studio mirrors? Who is the sadistic bastard that thought, "Hey! Let's put mirrors on every surface so everyone can see themselves at EVERY angle. I'm never having sex again.

This is a cool down? Just laying here shouldn't be this hard. I mean. This? I'm good at. I can watch a NCIS marathon on USA while laying on the couch for hours. Why is laying on a mat in a yoga studio hard??? Maybe Mark Harmon is my spirit animal. Yeah, that must be it. Mark Harmon gives me the power. *Channels Mark Harmon to no avail*

YAY! Class is over!! I made it!! My body is a wonderland and all that shit. But. Um. Guys? Guys!
I can't get up. My muscles have left the building. If I don't get up soon, the cardio kickboxing class is going to start and I'm going to get trampled. Guys? Guys! No one wants to get killed by a bunch of 90 lb super models with perfectly done hair and lip gloss.

I just have to move my big toe. Get it? What's up Kill Bill reference!! Blech. I hate feet.

I guess the point of all of this is to remember that there are going to be times when you look like a fool and feel completely like a fish out of water, but you shouldn't let those feelings stop you from accomplishing your goals. It's ok to be awkward. It's ok to not know exactly how to do something. It's ok to try and not succeed the first time. Just stick with it and the rest will come.

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva

follow me on twitter @kunemployeddiva

5 Ways to Survive Thanksgiving: while keeping your sanity and looking cool.

With Thanksgiving only a few days away, I thought it would be a good idea to address some ways to maximize the fun and minimize the stress of all of the Thanksgiving hub bub. Also, I created a great reference tool! Who doesn't love a good reference tool?!?


1. Dress super cool and chic. Thanksgiving is a time when you finally get to interact with all of those extended (and sometimes rotten) limbs of the family tree - so why not let them know that you are super cool, successful, and happy by wearing ultra rad clothing, having a perfectly quaffed hairstyle, and wearing a $500 pair of shoes. And don't forget! Nothing says I'm better than you by constantly talking about how much you paid for every possession you have.

2. Food is a big part of this holiday and it only makes sense to constantly chat about it throughout the evening.

Some examples include: 

Wow! Look at all of the food!

How will we eat all of this food?

 I'm so stuffed from all of the food that I just shoveled into my face!

 Can you pass me more food?

This food is so delicious! Who made each and every food item on the table?

Grandma, how do you like your food?

I love food.

3. Because it is frowned upon to leave children at home by themselves, the house you are visiting for Thanksgiving dinner is likely to be packed with 30 screaming/running/excited/destructive/jumping/melancholy/angsty/electronics and sleep deprived children aging from newborn to 18 years old. Now, you might have the privilege and honor of calling some of these children your own - if so - pour yourself a glass of wine and just relish in the joy of  adult interaction. I mean, for those few hours you and your spouse are on vacation! Who cares if your kids are biting the legs off of the table and reenacting Lord of the Flies? Someone else, who is most definitely not you, will take care of it. After all - it's not your house. Kudos to you for adopting that 'it takes a village' mentality!

4. Thanksgiving is more than just a day off of work. It is also a time to relax and watch some football. After dinner, who has time to help clean up? Seeing which team is beating that other team is super important and relevant. Before dinner is over, politely excuse yourself - leaving all china and utensils behind - and find the nearest tv. This will ensure that you get a primo nesting spot and won't be distracted by any of those dish scraping or dish washer noises. Others will applaud your logical way of thinking and be envious that you thought of this idea first!

5. When it's time to finally wrangle all of your heathens children and go home - it is crucial to grab your coat and run. Who has time for long, drawn out good byes and putting the furniture back together? I'm sure the host and hostess will be so bored in the coming days that they will relish in playing a game of hide and go seek a la remote control and will think it a blessing to carry the 12 folding chairs back down to the basement. Such a great workout! Be prepared to get a Thank You note for enabling these opportunities! Oh! And before you go, don't forget to demand heaping amounts of left overs so that way you can continue to enjoy all of the great food that you didn't have to cook in the coming days. Bonus!

Anyway, I hope these 5 tips help create a memorable and festive Thanksgiving experience for you and your loved ones!

And just in case, you need some help with navigating all of the ins and outs of this holiday, I have created a chart to help. Feel free to print it out, get it laminated/framed, and to share it with others. 

Yeah, Yeah. I know it's huge. Get over it. I wanted to make sure you could read it. You're welcome.

Hope everyone has a happy and safe Thanksgiving. Remember kids, don't give your crazy relatives and sharp objects or alcohol!

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.


Stalk me. Or don't. It's up to you.

Twitter: @kunemployeddiva
Google +: Katlyn The Unemployed Diva
Email: katlyn.the.unemployed.diva@gmail.com
You Tube: Katlyn The Unemployed Diva

Miley,Justin Bieber, Kanye West, and Madonna.

I miss the days of the old rock bands or just real musicians in general - when a group of guys/girls came out on stage dressed in leather (REAL LEATHER), stoned/high/drunk out of their minds, covered from the waist down in a raging case of STD (undoubtedly gifted by the hoards of groupies they proudly bedded) and just played and sang their hearts out. They were just cool. Absofuckinglutely cool. Now, I'm not saying that I have seen every awesomely rocking band out there live. 1. I'm too young to have seen some of the coolest bands in their hay day with original band members, and 2. I was a late bloomer when it came to music. I listened primarily to sound tracks until I was at least half way through high school. What can I say? My parents aren't in to music. I blame them.

But here's the deal - through the interwebs, I have heard Janis Joplin and Hendrix play live at Woodstock. I have seen Aerosmith, Twisted Sister, and Kiss rock out - all wearing more makeup than what seems humanly possible. I have gotten deep with Nirvana and felt like a badass ass with the Beastie Boys. I jammed with the Foo Fighters, all the while having a major lady boner for Dave Grohl. I chased Waterfalls with TLC and I asked Biggie (Biggie Biggie) can't you see? I became divalicious with Mariah, Bette, Aretha, Madonna, P!nk, and Cher and felt all of the lady angst with Alanis, Sheryl Crow, and Paula Cole. I said fuck 'the man' with the Ramones and Social Distortion and had a little ironic fun with Weezer.

Yeah - there a ton more legit musicians and rock stars, but you get my drift. So what's my point? My point is: that today's musicians are shit. Yup. There it is. I said it. Why is everything driven by 13 year old girls and reality shows??? Why are musicians allowed to lip sync to their own tracks (I'm looking at you, Britney) and why do we, as consumers, support this??? Shows are planned down to the second and no matter what show you go to, it looks the same in every city. Artists are now like the McDonald's of music. Do you want a fucking coke with that?

At what point did the music become more about fitting in to a demographic and less about the actual people making the music, the skills that they have, and hearing their unique voice? What is wrong with an artist standing up on a stage and just rocking out and singing??? Do they think if they skip around the stage, have pyrotechnics and crazy amounts of back up dancers that we won't notice what shit they are?? You know who doesn't notice? Teenage girls that are all hopped up on their hormones and just want to hump the ever living shit out of their favorite boy bander. 

What makes all of the music fun that I listed in the second paragraph above, is the fact that each one of those artists/musicians could stand in a fire hall with just a guitar and make the crowd go crazy. Try to do that with Britney, bitches. Or One Direction. Or Madonna these days. Or Kanye West. Or any of the other pop princes and princesses. I guarantee you, they couldn't/wouldn't be able to do a show that relied completely on musical talent because they simply don't have any. They are pretty, outspoken, controversial people to watch - but that is as deep as it goes.

I think my nappy needs changed Mommy. Waaaa!

 So to Justin, I say: Pull up your damn pants. You are not invincible. You are a white boy that has a Bible thumping mother that probably cries herself to sleep every night worrying about your soul. Have a little respect. Will Smith is disappointed in you.

Panting vs. Getting into your pants.

To Miley: Girl - you have talent. You can actually sing and are innovative. Lay off the drugs and sticking your tongue out. Gene Simmons is the only person allowed to do that because... well... as a lady with lady parts, I'm sure you can imagine why. You, on the other hand, look like a panting dog that is desperately in need of a bowl of water. Leave the teddy bears alone. They're one step away from creepy Chucky dolls.

I'd hate to be the one in charge of shaking the motorcycle.

To Kanye: Everyone thinks you are an asshole personally and professionally (ask Taylor Swift). I mean, you paired up with the most narcissistic family ever and call yourself Yeezus... um... no, you are not the Lord Jesus Christ. These are not the logical decisions of someone thinking clearly.  Mental illness is no joking matter and I hope you check in to Promises Malibu sooner rather than later. I'm sure they'll accommodate your requests to: 1. Refer to yourself in the 3rd person, 2. Allow you to gold plate all of the furniture, 3. Cover your entire room with mirrors so you won't have to go one second without looking at yourself.

 And lastly, to Madonna: It's ok to age. Yeah, no one really likes to think that they might not be hip or cool anymore, but the truth hurts. We all are very jealous of your rocking body, considering you are in better shape now than when you were rolling around on stage in a wedding dress at the VMA's those so many moons ago. Own it, girl. You are a millionaire. You gave hope to millions of small town girls that they could pull themselves up by their boot straps and lace gloves and change the world. Isn't that enough? No one needs to see you break a hip or lip sync. It's like finding out Santa doesn't exist. It hurts our feelings.









Anyway - that's all I have for now. By the way - you can thank Kanye West and his new dumbass video, Bound 2 for inspiring this rant. If I wanted to see a topless Kim Kardashian bounce up and down while riding a black man on a motorcycle, I would go online and watch her get it on with Ray J. Classy.

Ok.

Deep Breaths.

Glad I got that off my chest.

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva

Catch me on twitter @kunemployeddiva
On Youtube as Katlyn The Unemployed Diva
On Gmail katlyntheunemployeddiva@gmail.com

Guys, have I been kidding myself?

Recently, I started a diet bet. I joined a web site, put 25 bucks on the line, and promised that I would lose 4% of my weight in 28 days. Who needs the appropriate motivation of being healthier, feeling better, and having more energy when I can make some dough off of this endeavor? Take a walk to enjoy the sounds of nature and to get a little fresh air? Pfft. Pass. Take a walk to ensure that I get to split the pot with the other 4% loser winners? Yup. Lacing up my sneaks right now. And ZOOM we go!

So with all of this exciting physical activity I have got myself a raging blister from the aforementioned sneaks. DAMN YOU NEW BALANCE OR WHATEVER OFF BRAND SNEAKER I COULD AFFORD FOUR YEARS AGO! BOO. Honestly, I think it was the perfect storm of blister creation and not the sneaker because: 1. I've never gotten a blister before from this pair. (read: New balance, if you want to be friends and sponsor me, I won't say no. I'm like a sure thing.) 2. It has been a hot minute since I've worn backed shoes (let's hear it for FLIP FLOPS!). 3. My sock slid down while I was walking at a jaunty pace on the treadmill hamster wheel for humans thus creating direct shoe on skin contact. 4. I tied my laces extra super tight because I have an abnormal fear of spraining my ankle and being one of those people that falls off of the treadmill and goes shooting backwards into the row of elliptical machines resulting in my losing an arm, eye, or boob. And I need all of those. I'm quite literally attached to all of my parts - see what I did there?? I'm attached. Get it? Moving on...

See, I told you. Perfect blistery storm.

I set off on a walk the next day in the great outdoors thinking, "these thick, fluffy socks are going to protect my ankle blister and will not result in anymore pain." And off I went with my sidekick, Bella. I possibly even tra la la la'd a few times in between gasping for air. I was about half way through my walk when the blister came to life and started sounding every alarm it knew how. If it had access to an air horn, my neighbors would have come out of their homes (in their bare feet nonetheless while pretending to shiver) to see what craziness was disturbing the peace. I started hobbling the .8 miles home, dragging my leg behind me. Every. Step. Was. Torture. I could feel my sock get sticky from what I can only assume was me bleeding out from some randomly placed artery (ok. ok. maybe not. I'm not a doctor. geez. gawd. way to get all literal.). I cursed myself for not teaching Bella how to mush like an Alaskan Husky and pull me to safety. I contemplated taking off my shoes and walking home in just socks, but reconsidered when I realized I was afraid of becoming one of THOSE people. So I did what any human has to do in a situation like this, I muscled through it. Painfully.

Step. 

By. 

Step. 

ooooo baby! gonna get to you girrrrrrl! Don't lie. Your mind went there.

This whole situation has got me thinking. You know how certain situations arise and you say to yourself, "I could run if I was being chased!" or "He only got grazed by a bullet! He could have gotten up and ran down the bad guy. (obviously I'm watching NCIS... DUH)" or "I could have totally taken that guy." or "I would be able to defend myself all stranger danger style if someone ever tried to mug or murder me."

Well I have something to say to that.

 Nope.

NOPE.

NOPE.

You are a liar, liar pants on fire.

Eek.

Is it getting hot in here?

You big liar face.

We all have been watching way too many Iron Man, Transformer, Captain America, Thor, Batman, Green Lantern (um. ok. so I watched Green Lantern and actually liked it. critics be damned. so sue me. don't do that. I'm poor.) movies and need to calm the F down.

WE, my dear friends, are NOT superheroes. Even a little bit. I mean, sure, there are men and women out there who have trained and trained to be able to tolerate a significant amount of pain (I'm looking at you Marines, Seals, Army, Navy, Green Berets) but they are the exception -NOT THE RULE.

So the lesson for today is this: Blisters suck. I'm a little dramatic. Yum! Men in uniform! I might have to hire a body guard since I just put on the internet that I'm a big pus pus. Money on the line is the only way to get me to exercise.

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

P.S. Finally joined twitter. Follow me @kunemployeddiva it'll make my heart sing.

 

EAT ME!!!!!

With Halloween a distant candy coated memory, we are now in what I like to call "eating season." In the next 2 months no matter where you go or what you do, a plate of some delicious (and let's be honest, not always so delicious) food is going to be all doilied up, thrown on a tray and passed in front of you. People are going to come out of the woodwork carrying trays of spinach puffs and Aunt Mimi's artichoke dip and cheese. OH! THE CHEESE!

Never has mold tasted so good!

 Remember the scene in Beauty and the Beast when Belle finally sits down for dinner, and the household gets a little thirsty because it's been awhile since they saw someone other than that hairy, sulking animal? (On a completely unrelated note: If some over indulged prince caused you to get turned into a candelabra, wouldn't your first order of business be to burn that mother fucker down??? The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire! We don't need no water let the mother fucker burn. Just saying.)

Want a little snack? Teamwork!! Let's throw Belle a 12 course meal!!

Yeah. "Eating season" reminds me of that. And if you get me to drink enough rum, I swear the plates and forks will start singing and dancing. Even if I have to put on the show myself. Don't judge me.



So how do we get through this never ending smorgasbord without gaining 50 pounds and hating ourselves by the time Santa squeezes his cookie eating ass down the chimney? I think this year for Christmas I'm going to ask Santa to screw the itunes gift certificates and throw a little of whatever allows him to squeeze into tight places my way. I mean, seriously. He's just being greedy. People have doors. Use them, Santa! A little of that magic would help me fit into my high school jeans. Now which is the bigger Christmas miracle???? Me fitting into my high school jeans or Santa choosing not to use a normal method of egress???

Anyway - back to the point. Here are some ways to just say no to the appetizers, 4 course meals, and dessert trays. Ready? Ok!

1. Remember when you were a kid and played the lava game???? THE FLOOR IS LAVA!!!!!!! And would go bouncing around on the couch cushions and coffee table? Grown up application: THE APPETIZER TRAYS ARE LAVA!!!!!!!!! Just don't go bouncing around. People will think you have lost your damn mind.

Appreciate this graphic. It took forever to make. LOOK AT IT!!!

2. Experts will tell you to eat a healthy snack BEFORE going to a party, but seriously? I could have just eaten and yet, when those delicious little bastards come rolling around, I'm ravenous. So, I have learned to hone in on a super power, WILLPOWER WOMAN!

In brightest day, in blackest night,

no tasting shall escape my sight!

Let those who worship tasting's might,

beware my power, Willpower Woman's light!

Bonus Points to you if you got the Green Lantern reference.

3. Last, but not least, play Passing Tray Tag (PTT for short). The rules of the game are: If you see a tray coming towards you, run in the opposite direction, leaving any guest or conversation in the dust. Who cares about social convention when your waistline is literally on the line?

Ah. Who are we kidding? As much as we try to be good little healthy eaters during the holiday parties and never ending get togethers, at the end of the day I'm pretty sure we're all going to look like this:

Can you unhinge my jaw?

Don't worry, January 1st is right around the corner, and you know what that means? 

For 2 weeks we are going to use the shit out of our shiny new gym membership. :)

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

How To: Throw a Successful Dinner Party

Now that Halloween is over, it seems that there are some people in this world that are so gung ho to get Christmas started, that they are going from spooky ghouls and pumpkins to evergreens and mistletoe in 3 seconds flat.. Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas and all of the synthetic Christmas scents that the geniuses at Yankee Candle have magically contained in a jar, but what about Thanksgiving? What about wicker cornucopias and pumpkin pie?? Oh yeah, and family...

Around this time of year everyone goes in to hyper-drive when it comes to entertaining. Soon, cookie parties, gift exchanges, and open houses are going to be filling up what precious spare time we have left, and I thought it would be a good idea to address how to not only entertain a house full of people, but to do it as stress free and easy as possible.

We've all be over to a friend's home and the party, for whatever reason, was a flop. I don't want that to happen to you. Also, I don't want you to pull your hair out and go nuts. Entertaining should be about enjoying yourself and spending time with people that you genuinely care about - not about being one heartbeat away from going batshit crazy and throwing tables.

How to Throw a Successful Get Together

Step 1. Select a Venue.

This is crucial because everything else is going to stem from this. (I'm assuming that you already have a reason to have the get together - but if you don't, you have to figure out why everyone is coming together first. Wine tasting? Birthday? Gift Exchange? Karaoke Night?)

Step 2. Guest List. 

How many people can comfortably fit in this space? 10? 20? 30? 100? Do you have enough seats if everyone wants to sit down? If having a game night, can you feasibly sit everyone around the table?

Step 3. Menu. 

I would say out of all of the steps that this is the hardest. Look, we all want to be Bobby Flay and/or Martha. We want to amaze and wow with the food. No one wants guests to walk away from a party saying: 1. I'm hungry. 2. That food sucked. 3. I couldn't eat anything because of my dietary restriction.  To be a gracious hostess or host, you have to have your guest list in mind when preparing the menu. It's great that you love spicy food, but your Nana might not. Same goes for Ribs on the barbecue. Any vegans in the crowd would be super bummed to be stuck eating side dishes only. If you don't keep your guests' preferences in mind, then they won't feel welcome and at ease.

If you are the chef for this event - stick to tried and true recipes. You don't want to be 45 minutes in to cooking and realize the new recipe that you are trying is a bust and you no longer have a tasty main dish. Also, try to stick with recipes that cook themselves. What I mean is, whip something together and throw it in the oven. No constant stirring, flipping or things that need to be made in tiny batches. You will spend all evening in the kitchen and have no fun. Boo. Don't do that.

Last thing about menu, I promise. When I have people over I always have a variety of appetizers on hand. Pita chips, hummus, fresh veggies, brie with crusty bread, etc and then have one or two hot appetizers. No matter what the theme of the party or why everyone is together, these items never fail and almost everyone can find something to munch on.

Step 4. Prepare! Prepare! Prepare!

By nature I am a procrastinator and hate doing things until they are absolutely necessary, but you will thank me and want to send me many gift baskets for this one little tip. 

DO AS MUCH AS YOU CAN AHEAD OF TIME. 

I AM NOT KIDDING. 

PREPARE.
PREPARE! PREPARE! PREPARE!

Buy all of the ingredients necessary at least the day before. Get out and wash all serving trays/utensils (let's be honest - the blow method to remove the dust is NOT sufficient.). Anything that can be done ahead of time, do it. Having a dinner party? Set the table. Having a game night? Get out the games, paper, pencils, and prizes. Set up drink stations, appetizer spots, and buffet areas. If altering decor, get extra chairs out, put up decorations, and get balloons a day in advance (Pro tip: if you tell the person filling the balloons with helium that this is for the next day, they will overfill them a little bit so they are still looking fab for the party and bag them up so you don't have 20 rogue balloons). Stock the bathroom with extra toilet paper and make sure the hand soap is full. The last thing you want to be doing in the middle of game night is having a guest come up to you in front of everyone and say, "Hey. Um. You're out of toilet paper." EMBARRASSING for both you and the guest. If you go into the day of the event with only really having to throw some food in the oven and get yourself looking pretty, then when you hear the first DING DONG of the doorbell, you won't be covered in flour, running around, trying to entertain while not burning the house down, and will be able to actually enjoy yourself.

Step 5. Delegate.

It is never a bad thing to ask for help. Is your friend a whiz with desserts? Good. Have that person in charge of desserts. Someone offers to bring the wine? Super. Let them know what you are making and what type of wine you prefer, but are open to their suggestions too. Once guests start arriving, people offer to help plate and carry the food out? Awesome. It'll save your back. One thing that I never really delegate with is clean up. Most of the time I clean as I cook, so by the time the evening is over, there are really only some things that need to be put in the dishwasher, left overs put in the fridge, and the linens washed. In my opinion, if I invite people over, it isn't ok to let them clean up. They are guests. 

Step 6. HAVE A BLAST!

No matter what the circumstances or crazy curves that are thrown your way, have fun. Having a karaoke night and your gaming system won't load? Free style. People are sitting on the couch like bumps on a log? Turn up the music and start a dance party. No one talking? Put conversation starters in a bowl and go around the room. You can't go wrong if you have good food, good people, and a go with the flow attitude. 

There are a 100 other things that I could have thrown in here like come up with a cocktail of the evening or make sure no one on the guest list has beef with another person on the guest list, but I'll save those for another day. Who knows. I might tell you about the time that I made Budapest Pork and almost gave food poisoning to some loved ones. But alas, I'm not writing a book here. Maybe I'll do a part 2 at some point.

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

Follow me on youtube: 

 

http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCea9uEbc21O2ih2LkE0xtQw

Poop, Egg McMuffins, and Tears

So, yeah. The title of this post sums up my entire day.

It all started at the unreasonable hour of 4:47 am, when Penny the Puppy (13 week old jack russell terrier whom I am dog sitting) awoke when she heard the clang clang of Bella's tags rattling on her collar when she got up to reposition. Penny decided that she was up and ready for the day and started thrashing about her crate (ah, the joys of crate training) like she was in the pit at a Nine Inch Nails concert.

While hopped up on speed.

At 4:47 am.

In the morning.

Before I had my coffee.

I walk out to her crate and find what I can only call the freshest of all the hells. I can smell the disaster before I see it. Brown, dried specks of questionable origin (shit) are splattered through the wires of the crate door (shit) and have landed all Jackson Pollack all over my hardwood floor (shit! shit! shit!).

You've heard of a black hole? Well, I found a brown hole. EVERYTHING (and I mean every last inch, centimeter, and heartbeat) was covered in Penny the Puppy's Poop. In all my years of schooling never once was I given this hypothetical. I've had to judge if a train leaves NYC at 8 am and if Bob has 12 apples, but never if the puppy you are dog sitting is covered in poo - what do you do??

*Now let's just pause here. I am absolutely certain that being covered in your own fecal matter at 13 weeks old is a very traumatic experience. She'll probably need therapy when she is a little older. I was extremely soft spoken and kind to this dog. My freak out was solely in my head. And my heart beat because it was exploding out of my chest. And my gag reflex.*

Fast Forward to 2 Hours later

Penny has been bathed. Her crate has been sanitized. Her bed is in progress in the washing machine/dryer process. The floor has been mopped. Remopped. And mopped again because THE POOP SMELL JUST WON'T LEAVE. I finally sit down on the couch to breathe. And it happens.




Why me, Lord?





Millie (a 7 yr old dwarf jack russell who I am also dog sitting) jumps off of the couch and instantly freezes, starts convulsing (CONVULSING!!!!), panting, and her legs give out from under her.

Seriously?

And just to give some background: Millie has had back problems in the past, and had to basically be put on doggy bed rest for her spine to heal.

I immediately try to call the owner of the dog. No answer. Since I was never given the name of the hotel they were staying at, I keep hanging up and recalling - much like how a 13 year old would call those boys from One Direction (I'm cool. I'm hip. I know what's in.) After 45 attempts, I call the vet. And to the vet we go. But not before I call my Grandma while trying to get dressed and in the car to have a mini freak out.

*Ding* 

Round One of Tears

Vet says - She's going to live, here are some pain killers, and another round of doggy bed rest. That'll be 60 dollars, please.

So, with Egg McMuffin in tow (because smoothies? Fuck smoothies today. I'm not in the mood.), we return home. When I go to leave Penny the Pooper outside, Bella decides that she wants to go too
(even though she knows that Penny can't have any distractions in order to have successful bladder evacuation). Bella full on makes a break for it. Running through the yard, past the side walk, and stops at the fire hydrant (how cliche).

*Ding*

Round 2 of Tears

I try treats, whistling, shouting, "ok get in the house" (a phrase she knows and normally obeys while on her stretchy leash) to no avail. Panic is now creeping up and visions of Lost posters or seeing her get hit by a car are now dancing in my head. I run into the house, grab my keys and start jaunting towards my car to go after her if need be. What does Bella do? Thinks she is going for a ride and runs towards the car begging to be let in to take her place in Shotgun position.

*Ding*

Round 3 of Tears

And it's not even 11 am yet.

A little later, I catch something out of the corner of my eye at my front door.

Wind + Halloween Decorations = ARGH.

I died.

I am now typing this as a ghost. Boo, mother fuckers.

Boo!




Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva.

The Gym.

I have made no qualms about the fact that I am what I like to call voluptuous. I know it. You know it. My sidekick, Bella, knows it. The pizza guy that delivers the pizza sometimes knows it. And for the most part I'm ok with it. With being in a constant voluptuous state there are certain challenges that a girl faces and today I'm going to go over some of the challenges that present themselves at the gym.

Look, I'm not going to lie - I hate the gym. Maybe in a previous life I was a hamster and that's the reason why I have treadmill/elliptical agent orange flashbacks. NO!!!!!! NOT THE TREADMILL!!! But to me, it seems ridiculous to get on to a machine and walk for 20 minutes to nowhere. Actually, I take that back. You do walk somewhere - to sweaty man in front/side/behind you land where everyone jaunts at a much quicker pace and fling flongs their sweat droplets EVERYWHERE.

I'm serious guys. 

There is no amount of disinfectant that can get the flinging sweat droplets which means that EVERYTHING at the gym is covered in someone else's DNA. BARF. I try not to think of that while I'm there, but go ahead - the next time you frequent a gym - try not to. See how that goes.

Enjoy your nightmares.

Do you have this suit in slimming black?

The other thing that really drives me B-A-N-A-N-A-S (go bananas! B A N A N A S) is when I am working out and there is a Grunter. Capital G. Capital Runt. Capital Er. You can tell this person by their affinity to vocalize every move that they make.

Going to stretch before using the treadmill? GRRRRRRRUUUUUNNNNTTTTTTTT
fart (it always happens)

Lifting a weight that an infant could carry?
OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH

Doing an ab work out?
HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO

Doing lunges?
SHESH SHESH SHESH SHESH SHESH
  

I pity the partners of these people, because if this is what their gym activities sound like, I don't even want to imagine what they sound like in the sack where actual work takes place. I imagine a lot of gorilla-esque sounds. You hear that? I could have sworn we just transported to the amazon. Sexy.

The other thing that drives me a little crazy are the GOOD FOR YOU people. There is always one that comes up while I am plotting the deaths of the sweat fling flongers and grunters that says, "Good for you!" At first, I thought, "Oh isn't that sweet! Grandma is cheering me on!!! I can rule the world!!", but then I thought about it a little more. Grandma and the like weren't going up to everyone at the gym. Just me. Like good for me that I got my lazy, voluptuous self away from the oreos and McDonald's drive thru long enough to take an interest in my own health.

This is an old lady who has not wronged me in anyway. Her picture was just on the internet. I looked for pictures of over-done cartoon grandmas pointing and wearing jogging suits, but can you imagine? The internet was all out. :(

This GOOD FOR YOUs reminds me a lot of those Christian zealots. Like - PRAISE JE-SUS. And GLORY BE TO HIIIIIM. HALLEJUAH! They mean well, but they come off as holier than thou nut jobs that are one symposium away from joining a cult. Seriously. It takes all that I have not to GOOD FOR YOU back to them about wearing bold colored sweat pants or for making the choice to dye their hair fire engine red or dousing themselves in enough perfume to gag an ox. Sweet baby Je-sus and bless their heart.

The last group that I'm going to talk about are the How You Doin's. I am in the middle of my workout. Grumpy cat face firmly planted on my mug. Definitely giving off, "go eff yourself" vibes. And up walks Mr. How You Doin'. Completely age inappropriate - like lead paint was still a thing and he had to walk up hill both ways to the one room school house when he was in his prime.He is the age of my father and grandfather - COMBINED. And he starts telling me how beautiful and wonderful I am. Now normally if an age appropriate man walks up, I'll be polite and at least make small talk. It ain't easy out there for a pimp (p-i-m-p such a good song!). And who knows - he could be the man of my dreams, but not to Mr. How You Doin'. They suck and are creepy as hell. If I wanted a sugar daddy, I would wear a shit ton more make up and, instead of wearing my old college
tshirt and yoga pants, I would look like Workout Barbie. I ain't no gold digger. What what.



And this is why I hate going to the gym.






Yeah, that's it. It's not at all because of the hard work and/or the lifting of heavy objects multiple times or the fact that I am clumsy and am always tripping on mats or that my feet fall asleep on the treadmill/elliptical. Or that I'm covered in sweat or my itunes library hasn't been updated since the Clinton administration. Or there is a Real Housewives of Somewhere marathon on or it's raining outside or my workout shoes make my ankles look fat. Or I left my water bottle in the car and now it has a weird smell and is growing fine baby hair. Nope. Not at all.

Forever Yours,

The Unemployed Diva

P.S. Originally this post was going to be more about a chubby person's experience at the gym, but then morphed. Frankly, the sweat flingers/grunters/old creepy men happen to everyone. Perhaps next time I will blog about about chubby people at the gym. Who knows. 

Going Kold Turkey

Let me just start this blog off by saying that I don't hate anyone. I find that, as a society, we tend to overuse that word when really what we mean is that we find someone or something displeasing to us and/or our life. With that being said, I find the Kardashians terribly displeasing.

I respect that they have clothing, make-up, perfume, credit card, jewelry and the like lines all over the place. I'm sure all of those things take an incredible amount of work and are in highly competitive markets. For the most part, the Kardashians aren't hot Amanda Bynes messes and, as far as I know, they haven't hurt anyone. Bonus points.

I guess my problem stems from the fact that even though they have built this giant empire of merchandise and are selling opulent lifestyle choices, they truly are famous for being famous. As I was looking at my twitter feed today, there were multiple updates about Kim Kardashian's new engagement to Kanye West and I finally hit my Kardashian limit.

Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me. Didn't she learn with Kris Humphries the pitfalls of making her personal life so public??? It just really irritated me today that there are serious world problems out there right now and the biggest news today was Kim Kardashian's engagement to Kanye West.

So - I am going Kold Turkey. I am silently boycotting everything and anything Kardashian. I refuse to watch them on tv, click on stories on the internet about them, and buy any of their various products. Do I think this is going to put the world on its ear? No. Kardashian fever has spread like wildfire and the populous is incredibly infested. Hopefully, we can slowly release ourselves from their hold and regain the life we had pre kardashian. You know, the one that didn't include oogling bulging derrieres and idolizing people who are about as deep as a puddle.

If their shows spent as much time promoting altruism and helping others in need as much as it does promoting needless cosmetic procedures and materialism - the world would be a much better place, but it doesn't. Ask any one of them about Syria, clean drinking water, unemployment, the government shut down, etc and they would probably look at you with their perfectly injected glossed lips and bat their fake lashes at you and say, "huh??". And giggle. Don't forget the giggling.

The world deserves better. We deserve a media that is invested in REAL news and not the latest Fall Fashion Trends. Those types of stories are lazy and distracting. There are some scary problems that need to be solved and, if we keep paying attention to whether or not wedges are in and ignore the real issues, we are going to be screwed. We can figure out if our purses match our skirts ourselves and the media outlets should focus their attention on the real problems at hand. I figure if the Kardashian stories don't have the following anymore then media outlets will let them slowly fade away and find something with more substance to cover. As consumers, we have the power to dictate was flies and what doesn't. I think we have forgotten that we have the power.

I'm not going to say that it is going to be easy, but if we all stick together, we might have a chance. WE CAN DO THIS!!!