Sizzle Says

My male readers will likely not understand the importance of today’s subject matter but I’m betting they won’t mind since there is, after all, a picture of a woman in her bra to distract them.

I am here to say to the blogosphere that the right fitting bra WILL indeed change your life. I always thought I knew what wearing a great fitting bra felt like until I met this one. It’s sort of like how married people always say, “I just knew” when they are talking about their husband/wife. I never understood that sentiment and to tell the truth, resented whomever uttered such sappy romanticism to me. . . until now. Sure, I thought it’d be a man who changed my mind but I’m betting my relationship with my new bra will last longer knowing my history with guys.

Scene: Sizzle arrives at work. Co-worker stops by her cubicle to say hello.

Co-worker (cheerfully): “Good morning! How are you?”

Sizzle (giddy): “I’m great! I am in love with my new bra.”

Co-worker (eyeing Sizzle’s ample rack): “My oh my, I can see why. The girls, they are so perky.”

Sizzle (not thinking it at all weird that her co-worker is staring intently at her breasts, tries to refrain from whipping off her shirt to show the world her new love): “It’s sooo comfortable. I think I might live in it. And buy one in every color.”

Co-worker (decidedly): “That’s it, I’m getting one for myself. I want to feel the love!”

Ladies, if you are walking around in the world in a bra that doesn’t make you 100% happy, you need to break up with that bra and go shopping for a new one. If you have not been measured for a bra, do it! You’ll be surprised. Too many women are walking around in ill fitting bras. Some of you are sagging. Some of you are constantly yanking down the back. Some of you are distractedly pushing the straps back up. Some of you, well, your cup runneth over. Trust me on this. Your clothes will fit better. You will stand taller. You will think you dropped 10 lbs. You too can fall in love with your bosom. Go on, get lifted!

It was around 10pm last night that I started to think about food. It wasn’t that I was hungry. It was more about the fact that I wasn’t allowed to have anything but water past 9pm. I thought about popcorn. Then about cocoa. Then about the yummy banana muffins I had made the day before. Being denied something sure can make it all the more tempting. I kept drinking water because it is all I am allowed. I have convinced myself it tastes like soap. All of this for the blood draw today for this health study my office is participating in. I have some trepedations about giving blood.

High school was the first and only time that I gave blood. I was trying to do the good samaritan kind of thing and it, uh, kinda backfired on me. I remember lying on the bed with my sleeve rolled up. Some of my fellow students were “helpers” and stood around chatting me up to keep my mind off the fact that blood was leaving my body and filling a plastic bag. (It didn’t work.) After a minute or so, I tried to tell them I felt funny as they chatted on about the day’s assembly and how Mona wears her skirt too short (she did, it’s true) but they were oblivious (and really sucky at their job). Next thing I know, I’m being slapped awake by the scariest teacher in the entire school. She couldn’t really help being scary. It was sad that her face was slack on one side from a stroke. (Or was it from a car accident? There was a rumor she lost her fiance in a horrible car accident that disfigured her. Doesn’t that sound like a rumor? It can’t be true.) Her scary face so close to mine was frightening enough to jolt me upright. They gave me a cookie and some juice and told me to visit the nurse. I think I ended up going home for the day. Turns out both my parents aren’t able to give blood for similar reasons. I guess it isn’t in our blood. (Heh.)

I’ve been promised that today’s blood draw won’t have the same effect and that they are only taking a little bit. All I know is, I damn well better get a cookie. I’m skipping breakfast afterall!

****************
Update at 4:30pm: No fainting. No cookie. No fair!

Email. Remember when there wasn’t email? Wow. Now I feel old. Moving on…There was a time when I wasn’t consumed with checking my computer for new messages. That would be the time I didn’t have a computer. It doesn’t help that I work at a desk on a computer for the greater part of the day. I’ve noticed that people seem to have their own method, if you will, for dealing with email. I’m curious to know if I am in the minority or the majority, so please put in your two cents. (My answers are in red.)

1. How often do you check email?

Constantly. I get excited if I am away from the computer for awhile because I hope that my in box will be full of new delights. I cry on the inside if I check my email and there are no messages.

2. What do you do with your emails after you have read them?

a) sort them into folders (so I can later maliciously delete them in a fit of rage, heh)

b) delete them

c) leave them in your in box for weeks (maybe months) (maybe years)

3. How long is too long to keep a message in your in box without replying? Is there a statue of limitations on such things?

I try to answer emails in a timely manner (re: the same day I receive them). Usually I am not the person who stops the emailing chain. I’ve had a couple of emails sitting in my in box for a month now. They are from people I like but don’t talk to that often and as each week passes I wonder if I should answer or forget it because the reply would be quite lengthy. Then the guilt sets in. That’s why I leave them in the in box so they can taunt me over and over and over again. I figure if you haven’t responded to my email within 2 weeks, you hate me. You hate me, don’t you? I knew it!

4. What is your stance on forwards?

a) I loathe them and harbor ill will towards those who send them.

b) I will read them but I rarely send them.

c) I only enjoy them if it’s a quiz. I’m a sucker for quizzes.

P.S. I’m operating at 85% today which is a far cry better than the 28% I’ve been working with the past few days. Thanks for all your well wishes!

I spent 10 hours in bed on Tuesday. The only time I spoke was to call in sick to work and to order Indian food. I tried going into work yesterday but they sent me home. I guess leaving the house without make up really is bad. I felt like I was getting better last night but woke up again with a severely stiff neck and sore throat. Oddly enough, the soreness is on the outside, not inside the throat. My glands are swollen and occasionally I’ll hack something up or blow my nose. Gross. I know. But I really do think there is validity to the whole emotional connection to illness. Monday night was a rough one, emotionally speaking, for me. Soon after my symptoms appeared. Coincidence? I think not.

Being home sick gives a girl too much time to think but I guess that’s what I need to do. I know that sometimes I allude to things here but I can’t always tell the whole story- not for my sake but for the sake of those I care about. I’m usually pretty direct but I don’t like hurting people unnecessarily (though some might disagree with that). When I mentioned that my integrity was lodged in my throat it was because I was feeling guilty for having made a promise and not kept it. I pride myself on saying what I mean and doing what I say, on being as honest and authentic as I can be, on treating others with kindness and thoughtfulness. In this particular instance, I was putting off saying what I thought might be hurtful and instead, hurt them anyhow. It’s really a long, complicated tale with a very un-fairytale-like ending that maybe someday I’ll tell you about.

Here’s what I have come to understand: You can put everything you have into loving someone and it can still fall apart. But just because it didn’t end up the way you’d hoped doesn’t make it all a lie. The heart’s truth can change just like people do.

And sometimes, as much as it might break your heart, the only way to love someone is to let them go.

Their Christmas Tree is still up.

So much for the excuse that they might be celebrating The Epiphany.

Thirty days people. Thirty. Days. It’s time to let Christmas go.

Do you believe that emotions can cause physical reactions in our bodies? I came home from work yesterday feeling a bit blue but not at all sick. Come 7pm the glands in my throat were swollen and I had no appetite. I stared at the TV to numb out but then finally just went to bed to sleep it off. I woke up at 1:44am, 3:12am, 4:18am, 6:03am and 6:54am. I laid there contemplating calling in sick. I have two meetings and a talk to give. I can’t honestly imagine opening my mouth and speaking.

For a woman who normally is not at a loss for words, I find myself without words to properly explain the situation I have found myself in. Just know that sometimes emotional situations can occur and result in a physical manifestation. Like when words fail you, a lump appears in your throat and you discover that not talking is the only cure. I’m going back to bed to fitfully wonder if there is a way to remove my integrity from my throat. And to drink some tea because tea cures most things.

There are some things you can’t hide/I want to know what you’re feeling/Tell me what’s on your mind. . .”

Some new questions have come in. Like I said, you ask and I will answer honestly.

Neil inquires: If you were stuck on a desert island, would you rather have a Bible written in German, a laptop that only had Excel installed, or just one slice of pizza from the best pizzeria in Brooklyn?

This is going to tell A LOT about me but I promised honesty. I would definitely go for the pizza. I hate Excel and don’t speak German. Besides, it’s PIZZA. Hello!? The memory of its deliciousness can drive me insane for months to come. And we all know how I love to torture myself.

Neil also asks: Have you ever been tempted to call up an old boyfriend to see if the sparks are still there?

Neil, Neil, Neil- do you know me that little? Come on my friend. Let’s be real. You and I (and the blogosphere) know that I HAVE done that and will likely do it again in the future.

Baja Babe wants to know: What kind of man do you WANT to date?

Funny you should ask because I have quite the list posted in my house to remind me! I wouldn’t mind keeping the humor, sarcasm, self-deprecation, artistic talents and even a smidge of depression or melancholy or mild moodiness but the emotionally stunted communicators and passive aggressives can learn to love from some other lady. I’m done teaching! I’m looking for a fella who is thoughtful, generous for the sake of being generous, has integrity, manners, passion and character, who at the very least knows his issues and can discuss them without hiding or blaming or being a general dicktard, a man who can be there for me as my biggest fan, strongest ally and inspiration. Is that too much to ask?

Karl inquires: What fun and exciting things will we do when I’m in Seattle?

Do we actually have to leave the apartment? Heh. No, no. In all seriousness, there are scads of cool things to do here. We have so much to offer the out of town visitor and I’m not just referring to the Space Needle. I bet you’re going to want to visit the SciFi Museum since you are such an adorable geek. There are ferry rides, Pike Place Market, all the cool parks and lakes and places to see. . .Are you sure a week is long enough?

Gorillabuns delves deep and makes me think by asking: Even if we have everything we thought we ever wanted… do you think people as a whole, are happy with the cards that are dealt to them? a.k.a. the silver lining?

I guess that questions supposes that I believe cards are dealt to people. Do we make our lives or do our lives make us? Interesting question. I think that perspective plays a large part in whether a person is happy or not. I believe the grass always seems greener on the other side but it’s actually just the vantage point that makes it appear so. It’s really the same lawn! So the best we can do is to live our best lives from moment to moment and try to be as authentic in our pursuit of happiness as we can without settling for status quo. We all deserve to live our dream. (Does that even answer your question?)

Mike and I traveled on the periphery of each other’s lives until one night when he joined some friends and attended a party at my house. It was then, while we sat outside by the pool on a bench as the others were inside, that I really saw him. Of course, it was mostly because I rescued him from a spider crawling near his head while he tried unsuccessfully not to freak out but nonetheless, a friendship was born. A while later we would fall in love.

It’s rare in this life to find a person who truly loves you unconditionally that isn’t related to you by blood. Mike is the person who taught me by example about selflessness and true love. He shows me time and again with his integrity that good men do exist. He’ll also, without question, slash the tires of anyone who wrongs me- so don’t get on my bad side. Heh. He is, to this day, one of two men I’ve dated for over a year which is significant given my 6 month max out on relationships. And he is also one of my very best friends.

When I think about Mike now there are no lingering regrets for the love affair we once had. I can remember vividly the time he blared Frank Sinatra from his car radio while parked along West Cliff Drive, the ocean tide playing back up to this moonlight serenade, as we danced in the light of the headlights in celebration my birthday. He was a wonderful boyfriend. People often raise an eyebrow when they hear we used to date and are now such good friends- even weirder are the looks when we were housemates for two years. . . “You mean, it isn’t weird with you guys?” they ask suspiciously. Um, no. If you saw us together you’d get it. It’s actually quite fantastic this friendship we have created. And now? I get to see him happy and in love with a truly perfect woman for him. The fact that I had a little hand in introducing them makes it all the more special for me.

He’s a good egg- humble and generous, compassionate and thoughtful (when he remembers- he has a horrible memory), sarcastic and witty, sensitive and romantic, loyal and independent, intelligent and a very talented writer. You can see for yourself here. You can go one farther and vote. It is, afterall, his birthday today. Let’s show my good friend some love, shall we?

Happy Birthday Mikey! I love you.
XO,
Sizz

I’ve been feeling edgy lately. At work, I have trouble focusing. It’s like I am back in college when I had a big paper due. Instead of tackling the paper straight on, I would accomplish all sorts of other, not-as-important tasks. My closet would be organized. My toilet scrubbed. My box of photos chronologically put in order. I’d make my bed. Do a load of laundry. Make tea and bake banana bread from scratch. And then. . . with 12 or 8 or 5 hours to spare, I’d get down to the real business at hand.

I do this with my life, not just with projects that have due dates. But I wonder, when you have a self-imposed “due date” does it still count? Lately, I’ve been trying to not be SO structured. Lists are nice. Accomplishing everything on my list is a secret joyous feeling. . . but why? What do all those tasks crossed off mean to me? That I have purpose? That I am not wasting my time?

I’m horribly bad at relaxing. Like even if I am home on a Friday night I will still multitask. This bothers me immensely because my inability to relax keeps me too over-connected, too “on,” too pent up, too inhibited. And multitasking just isn’t what it used to be. It actually keeps me from enjoying one thing at a time. It makes me feel scattered and discombobulated. What I am saying is: I want to cut loose of it and be free.

Today there is no list. There are phone dates with Santa Cruz friends. There is lunching at one of my favorite restaurants and painting pottery with my BFF. There will be fun. And by golly I WILL feel relaxed! (Does declaring that make me less of a relaxing type person? Ooops. I thought it might. Baby steps.)