The Wizarding Game (and World)

 I have 100% been a hypocrite about HP.

Even when Jo began Tweeting her insane TERF logic, I kept wearing HP jewelry that I own. I kept watching the movies when they came on TV. I kept thinking about buying a video game (thankfully I'm lazy and bad at buying video games so that never happened). I pretended Cursed Child and the Fantastic Beasts series never happened to put my head in the sand.

We are so far beyond that now.

Jo has begun suing / threatening to sue people who Tweet about how her beliefs align with Nazis. She is using her money (money that I contributed to) to bring lawsuits against people who call her out on her beyond unbelievable and offensive thoughts. To the point where people have to delete the Tweets and formally apologize to her saying that nothing they said was true.

I had been ignoring it pretty successfully until the Wizarding game came out. Watching the near constant online discourse about the politics of buying the game has been watching people twist themselves in mental knots worthy of the Olympics. People are saying they buy the game but also donate to charities!

Jo has directly said that people continuing to buy and support HP are proof that people agree with her. They agree with her destructive TERF logic. They buoy her into thinking that she is somehow right.

I was literally in my high school yearbook as a HP fanatic. I didn't start reading until after GoF came out, but once I did, I went to every midnight release. I would stay up all night to read them because I couldn't stand the idea of having anything spoiled. I went to all the midnight releases of the movies. My friends and I were literally first in line for some of them (this was a million years ago before you could reserve specific seats online. I had so much merch. I had notebooks and board games and stickers and Funko pops and bags and mugs and bracelets and necklaces and snow globes and shirts and posters and DVDs and books and books on tape.

I can't ignore it anymore. It doesn't matter how much the books mattered to me and how it made me feel that good actually can win against evil even in the face of incredible odds. 

The time of HP is over for me, and I hope for a lot of other people.

Where Does The Time Go?

I haven't blogged since way before the pandemic started. July 2019 seems like several decades ago. Last month seems like decades ago.

Summary of what happened: went work from home, our European vacation got cancelled, spent a ton of time in the backyard to try not to lose my mind, did so much pandemic related cleaning (did you know you need to clean the dishwasher trap??), did pandemic projects (replaced the showerhead, painted all the baseboards), moved my "office" three times, finally got vaxxed, went on a nice ladies weekend, got COVID from the masseuse, had no symptoms but anger, probably lost my mind, didn't see family for years, finally went on a few trips, and am sort of getting back into the swing of real life all the time.

My grandmother died over the summer, and I am glad that we got to do some in-person visits.

Time seems to be moving so slowly yet so quickly. We all lost so much time (at least those of us who followed the CDC guidelines and were isolating which I'm still sort of mad about). There isn't any way for us to get time back - time that we should have had with loved ones, time that we should have had with ourselves, and time that we all needed to be part of the world with each other.

I don't want to dwell on everything COVID-related because I'm honestly exhausted.

I want to think about what I should do with the time we have now, the future, and everything else.

We're Gonna Teach Them How to Say Goodbye

When you leave a group of friends, what do you say?

If you're a woman, you probably say "text me when you get home!" I've noticed over the past few years that "text me when you get home!" is basically the female goodbye. Consistently.

I've left parties in Cranberry. "Text me when you get home!"

Work happy hours. "Text me when you get home!"

Friends' house in Friendship. "Text me when you get home!"

Wineries in Gibsonia. "Text me when you get home!"


Dinner in Bakery Square with my sister. "Text me when you get home!"

My husband met me on my walk home tonight because it was a nice evening. I asked him what he said when he left a party  because it was on my mind. He was very confused (definitely thought it was a trap of some kind). "Text me when you get home!" was definitely not one of the options.

Women almost always tell other women to let them know when they are home safely. It's something ingrained in all of us. We want to verify the people we care for get home. Why do we all ask that? Did we all take a seminar at some point that advised us to check in with all our friends and family?

Or is it what has happened to all of us?

Have all of us realized that we ended up in creepy Ubers or roofied at bars or followed on the street by screaming men or been followed into bathrooms or driven alone on strange roads or just walked home alone and didn't know what to do or who to contact.

I am definitely in the "text me when you get home" camp. I do it all the time. I have occasionally waited up until I have heard for someone. Based on what has happened to me and what has happened to people I know, I want to hear that other people have gotten home safely.

While on some level it's a nice thing (yay caring about the safety of others!), on another it's awful. Why do women have to ask and make sure that other women get home? Why do we have to worry that the people we know won't make it even going a short distance?

I'm going to continue asking people to text me when they get home (and I literally ask all my friends regardless of gender because I listen to about a million too many true crime podcasts). When people ask me to text them when I get home, it makes me feel like people care about me. If someone tells me that the want me to stop, I will.

 Unfortunately, I don't think that day will be anytime soon.

That Time I Cried at Zenergy

I've been doing ClassPass for a few months now (if anyone is interested in trying it out, this is my referral link: http://class.ps/m0I5q). I did a few classes at Barre Code Shadyside before taking a class at Zenergy Pittsburgh. I had been to cycle classes at LA Fitness (before leaving that gym because one of their trainers is a total dick jagoff which is a story for later), but I hadn't done anything like this before.

I am usually more of a yoga girl (shout out to my regular studio Yoga Love). I decided to go with something a bit more high energy to try to distract myself from some of my work stress.

Zenergy mixes in some of the yoga mindset with a rave-like atmosphere. I have reached the point where I can do the warm up without looking like a total moron. But, as a great theater professor liked to tell us, don't be afraid to make an ass of yourself!

Let's get to the point where I cried yesterday.

I had a super shitty work day yesterday. Like, the kind of day where I almost went to cry in the Olive Garden parking lot. I knew that I had the class after work, so I was looking forward to shutting my brain off and riding.

During a few minutes of just riding in the dark, the instructors like to give some inspirational monologues.

Yesterday Josh's point was that we either came to class because we had a great or a bad day. And that one of the reasons we come to class is that we have another day on this Earth.

It's coming up on the 10 year anniversary of my father's death. I have been thinking about things like having another day on this Earth a lot recently.

So to be in a class after a bad day and hear the instructor talk about how we are all happy to have another day really got to me.

I cried.

It's always an experience to be reminded of the fact that we aren't guaranteed another day or another minute or another second. We choose what we do with each day, and it's never too late to reset how the day is going.

So I for sure cried during a fun workout class. And I will probably do it again.

(PS: I know this post seemed super like an ad, but I just wanted to give people info. None of the links above sponsored anything!)

What do we do?

This week has been emotionally exhausting.

There was the momentary high of Bill Cosby being convicted in a court of law of being a sexually violent predator. News sites were calling him the first conviction of the #MeToo movement.

That hope was short lived.

The Kavanaugh hearing.

The fucking Kavanaugh hearing.

The hearing itself is a goddamn tragedy. As if there was any doubt, Republican men have proved that it isn't they don't believe women - they just don't give a shit.

Oh, he didn't write running a train on drugged girls in his calendar! It clearly didn't happen!

I want whatever drugs you assholes are on. I probably need them to survive this.

Women are telling their stories in public and on social media. The bravery coming from this shitstorm is inspiring.

It's so hard to hear the stories.

It wasn't super obvious, but my last post was about going out again after being drugged.

What's awful is that I tell my story and over half the time the reply from other women is their own story. The stories are almost always told lightly - almost apologetically. Oh I was out drinking and this happened. Oh I was at a party and this happened. As if there is any excuse for this happening.

I don't doubt anyone who tells their story later. I don't doubt the victims of the Catholic conspiracy. I don't doubt the victims of Kava-fucking-naugh. Coming forward is not an easy task.

Personally, I have no hope on this. I think Kavanaugh will be confirmed. I don't think the House or the Senate will go blue. I think Trump will win again in 2020.

What do we do?

We protest. We fight. We vote. We speak. The world may go to shit, but I won't participate.

I am not throwing away my shot.

Does Rent Hold Up?

I saw Rent twice while it was in Pittsburgh - the opening night on Tuesday and the second to the last show today. I have seen the show at least twice (possibly three times) before, and I have listened to the soundtrack more than was probably necessary for one person.

I saw it for the first time in high school. A friend's mother had gotten her tickets for her birthday, and she asked me to go with her. I remember my friend's mother sort of warning my mother about the content of Rent. After it was over, I remember thinking how amazing it was.

The whole idea of their lives was foreign to me back then. Like - how could people even live in NYC?! I had never been there, and it was worlds away. All I knew about AIDS was from the health class booklet we all had (I'm like 95% sure it had a blue cover). I didn't know any out gay people (and didn't even know bisexuality existed). Drag queens were something only in movies.

To me, Rent was exposure to real life.
Caleb, destroyer of all things fun, was bitching earlier this week about how all the characters are terrible people. Today was the first stage production he had seen, but he had seen the movie before. There is a giant difference between seeing Rent as a high school kid from a suburban area and seeing it as an actual adult person.

I think if I had seen Rent for the first time now, I would think of it entirely differently.

I have friends who live in NYC, and I have spent time wandering around by myself figuring out what to do (although I haven't been alone in the East Village - went to McSorley's with other people). I know a lot more about AIDS, and I have met people who are HIV+. (Side note: I wonder how different the show would be if PrEP existed back then - would just the intravenous drug users have AIDS?). I definitely know people on all parts of the LGBT spectrum. I've been in drag shows!

There were people much younger than me at the Tuesday performance. The one guy in front of me didn't seem to be enjoying it as much as the rest of us. He was kinda slumped over with his head on his hand. Honestly, it made it easier to see so whatever.

Part of the magic of Rent - for me anyway - was that it was a glimpse into lives that I couldn't even imagine. Does this show (can this show) hold up today?

I think it still stands up. There may be more of a nostalgia factor for the music, and it being the first time I encountered a lot of these ideas. There are obviously flaws in it, but does that really matter? Rent was one of the first times I really thought about their being other ways to live your life. There will always be a place for a show like that.

Girls' Clothing

I know what you're thinking: "Blair, it's Saint Patrick's Day. Why are you sober enough to write a blog post? Are you sick?" Thank you for your concern, and my friends are coming over later. I am drinking the rest of the Guinness that went with my corned beef, so we're okay.

Getting ready for people to come over is exactly what inspired me to write this today. I'm wearing a children's shirt from Target because they're cheap and I can fit in them. When I was walking down to take the trash out, and I saw my shirt in the mirror (because obviously I live in a building that has floor to ceiling mirrors at the entrance).

Not pictured: the cute shamrock on the side

This is pretty see through for a children's shirt. I'm a grown ass woman who happens to like her clothing a bit see through, so it's not an issue for me. Do I care if the people in my house can see my bra while I'm doing car bombs? No, I do not.

But then I thought about being 12 or 13. It's already an insanely awkward time in your life. I think at that point I had just gotten training bras (honestly, I've kinda blocked that whole chunk of my life out - thank you, vodka). You're not trying to draw attention to yourself because kids are jagoffs. I can imagine seeing this shirt at Target, thinking it's cute, and not really looking at in strong light before I get to school.

I don't have too much personal experience with this, but I think a girl would get in trouble at a lot of schools for having her bra showing. Somehow it would be her fault she didn't think to layer. I don't even know who I'm more mad at sometimes - the schools who sexualize this stuff or the companies who make all the clothing too thin to wear without another layer. I'm gonna go with both.

I've ranted about clothing a bunch of times before, but for some reason this really got to me. This didn't come the juniors section. This is straight up from the girl's section. Why are we starting this bullshit women's clothing thing so early? We can't let girls wear cute shirts and have fun before we stick them with the bullshit that is women's clothing?

I know it's a cheap shirt from Target, but the boy's cheap shirts from Target aren't see through.

Apparently the issues with women's clothing start as soon as you can get out of infant clothes.

Why I Dress The Way I Do

At my book club on Sunday, I ended up telling a story about when I was in middle school. I had this pair of pants that I absolutely loved. They were from Limited Too, and they were black velvet with blue, pink, and green embroidered flowers. The bottoms were slightly bell bottom. I loved those pants. The last time I wore them was during Spirit Week. The girl whose locker was next to mine (whose name I remember but I'm a fucking lady so I won't mention it) looked at them and said "I thought tacky clothing day was tomorrow!" And our friends laughed.  I was so incredibly embarrassed. Like being in middle isn't hard enough my friends are making fun of my clothes?!

I never wore those pants again.

I loved those pants.

I really let what people thought about my clothes affect me for a while.

I'm not sure exactly when I went off the rails with my clothing. It was a slow descent into the madness I call a wardrobe.

I think it probably started when we would go to the Waterfront to go shopping, and we would all try on the most random things we could find at Express. We would go in looking for jeans and t-shirts and try on jumpsuits. You try on enough weird stuff, and you eventually find something you like!

During my funemployment, a bunch of us went out all you can drink mimosa drunk (shout out to the Yard). American Apparel was closing, so there was a ton of stuff on clearance. Approximately all the mimosas in, I decided that I needed three crop tops (red, blue, and black). They were closing, so no returns! I also got some deep v bodysuits because mimosas.

I didn't have to dress like a "real" adult while I was funemployed. Caleb was on trips, I was going to visit Jon in NYC, and being left to my own devices turns out to involve not a lot of shirt and a whole lot of lipstick.

We had a casual week at work a few weeks ago. (Casual is different than jeans today because you can basically wear whatever. During the summer, I wear shorts. It's amazing.) On the Wednesday of that week, I wore children's pink leggings with rainbows on them and my silver Docs (on Wednesday, we wear pink). I got home, looked in the mirror, and was like "I literally went to an office like this." But - why not?

Ever since my dad died, I realized that there really isn't time to care about stupid shit. Life can change in a moment, and I want to do all I can to do the most I can. I like flashy stuff. I think animal print and metallic are neutrals. I might own more crop tops than t-shirts. I shop in the children's section of Target sometimes. It's what I want to do, and I'm going to keep dressing how I want as long as I can.

I really loved those pants.

Who Protests a Bar?!

I went to a Planned Parenthood fundraiser on Monday. It was the 45th anniversary of Roe v Wade. As usual, it was an excellent time! Allegheny Wine Mixer is a great location with lovely wine.

My friend and I took a Lyft over because I was being lazy and didn't want to walk. In my defense, it is 3.5 miles from my house to AWM if you walk it. Driving goes a different route because it's faster for a car. (Also, when did I decide that 3.5 miles was a totally walkable distance? I used to complain about walking the 0.8 miles to Market District!). The Lyft was faster than we thought, so we were standing outside for a bit.

There was this white SUV across the street, and a girl a bit younger than me stepped out of it. She was carrying a folding card table, a bag, and a few signs. The signs were hot pink which Planned Parenthood uses. My friend goes "oh, I think we are going the same place. We're going to the Planned Parenthood event." She says, "Oh, I'm actually against it." Whatever.

As she is setting up her table, she looks at the house. Her bag is sitting next to it - maybe like 15 feet from us. I'm horrible at judging distance. She looks at the SUV still across the street and then starts running down the block away from her stuff. Like, super booking it. I stared after her for a few seconds and then immediately thought I had to go inside. A PPWP protestor just put some shit down and ran away. Holy shit. Oh no. I've seen this episode of Law & Order. I went in the entryway to tell someone about it, but my friend said that she was on the way back. My friend said it didn't even occur to him that she was going to start something, but I'm kinda paranoid and always on the lookout. Especially at a Planned Parenthood event.

The girl sets up her table and some older guy joins her. They had signs about the uterus being a weapon free zone (with badly drawn pictures of medical equipment). I think they had one of those bowls of candy where they try to trick you into a Toostie Roll and then show you a picture of a fetus. There were also pamphlets which my friend took and I ignored her presence. It was a damn stack! It wasn't one flyer - there were four!!! As someone who has extensive tabling experience to the point where it basically one of majors in college, they need to edit.

We told the PPWP volunteers and employees that there were protestors outside and what they looked like. They knew who they were. There are always repeat customers.

The pamphlets were a lot. Not entirely well done either. Mostly about how atheists can be pro-choice, how birth control is racist, and something about babies. Side note: I saw the atheists for life at Pride in 2017, and I'm over it.

When we went to leave, my friend talked to the girl. She looked kinda terrified. He thinks he might have been the first person to actually speak to her all night. He told her what points were strong and which points were super weak. I stayed away. I'm sometimes not great at holding back.

Who protests a bar though?! There weren't live streams of abortions inside. There was wine and nice toasties and fun people. Tables were stocked with condoms and pins (those items were separate, please don't mix). Who were they trying to convert? If you knew about the event, you were a Planned Parenthood supporter. I wasn't going to show up, see some people with a stack of homework, and decide to change my fundamental beliefs.

Unless something actually happened in the bar, it isn't a great place to protest. There isn't anyone new to reach. They were outside AWM. They could have had a perimeter space or something. It was lazy and boring.

Seriously, who protests a bar?

Talking About Tough Issues

To my immense despair, Teen Vogue no longer exists in print. To make up for this periodical loss, they are going to send me Glamour until my subscription runs out. I was going to blog about Aziz Ansari, but thankfully an article in Glamour gave me something to write about until I get my thoughts together!

There was an article called "How to Discuss the Tough Stuff" which was about how to talk with people you love about things you disagree on. There were four different topics: immigration, voting for Trump, gender identity, and gun ownership.

The gender identity and gun ownership parts were really enlightening.

With gender identity it was about how people can be uncomfortable with what they don't understand. It was a mother and daughter. For some older people, the idea of different gender identities and sexualities can be confusing. Sometimes it's confusing to me, and I've spent a lot of time learning about people. I really felt like this mother and daughter connected and figured out how they would be able to relate to each other. It wasn't a case of either of them trying to hurt or ignore the other, it was just no idea on how to talk about anything.

I thought the gun ownership piece would be more upsetting. This was a father and daughter, and she  was expressing how her thoughts on gun ownership changed after she had children. Her father said that he thought about it after her children were born as well. They both seemed like people who wanted to promote responsible gun ownership and laws.

These were people I could talk to in real life.

The other two? Hell no.

When you talk about how immigrants need to assimilate because they're in America? This dude was an immigrant but says that he supports the stupid imaginary Wall because it isn't just keeping out Mexicans; it's also keeping out other people from Central America. His mother came and assimilated so they're not like other immigrants. Awful. I'm checking the hell out of the conversation

You talk about how the Cheetoh in Chief's Access Hollywood tapes made you not like him as a person, but you still voted for him because you like the Second Amendment? You are a bad person. The non-Trumper said "I've had people come up and ask me, 'Why are you friends with Bailey when she's Republican?' And I'm like 'She's a nice person and she's been there for me through a lot of stuff.'" I hate to tell her this, but her friend isn't a nice person. It's not that she's a Republican; it's that she voted for Trump. She heard that Access Hollywood tape and still thought this was someone she could vote because gun rights. That's bad, and she should feel bad.

If you believe in things that hurt people because of things they can't change, you're a deeply terrible person. It doesn't matter what you think about yourself, what you tell yourself when you look in the mirror or sit at church - when you hate people for what they are, you're not a good person. (I'm not talking about hating people for being jerks or being rude to service people - that is totally valid).

At that point, it isn't "talking about tough stuff," it's realizing that you might know some shitty people.

2018 Resolutions

Time to figure out what I want to do in 2018! Spoiler alert: some of them will be the same as 2017.

1. Do more yoga. Yoga keeps me calm. I need to do this more. Also, I need to stop giving myself weird injuries so I don't get off track!

2. Read 125 books again. I signed myself up for Kindle Unlimited, so I hope it won't be me cramming like 20 zombie books between Christmas and New Year's (as much fun as that is).

3. Start using my skateboard again (technically longboard I guess). I really like it when I do it, but I need to be consistent. Even if I just roll around the garage a few times a week, I will be exponentially better.

4. Figure out if I can bike commute to work. I haven't tried to bike over to the Island, but it seems really possible. Once the weather gets nicer, I'll give it a try on a weekend to see how long it takes.

5. Go to two cities I haven't been. There is so much of America/rest of the world I haven't seen. Instead of a generic "travel more," I'm giving myself a specific goal.

6. Try to stop being so anxious. Maybe it isn't necessary to constantly worry about whether or not people like me. Really don't need to go over conversations in my head after the fact to go over everything I said wrong. Probably don't need to talk so much in order to cover any kind of silence because quiet makes me think everyone hates me.

Nothing too crazy, but I don't think they have to be.

2017 Review!

So, I made a few resolutions in 2017. Not all of them went according to plan...

1. Blog more. I am super inconsistent. I will have a great streak and then nada. Need to do this more.
Okay, did well at this for a bit and then totally failed. I need to get my shit together.

2. Go to yoga more. Another thing I have been inconsistent with. Every time I go, I really feel good. I have gotten so much better I've the past year and a half, so I need to keep it up!
This one went well for a while then fell off (are we sensing a theme here?). I kept giving myself weird injuries so I couldn't go. I sprained my shoulder while trying to do stretches. Then I fell flat on my face while on a run and scraped up my knee and hand.

3. Do whatever I can to make sure that America doesn't go directly to hell. There will be a lot to do to resist the hatred that will increase, but inaction is its own evil.
This one went well! I donated to charities, volunteered my time, and wrote to my elected officials. Also voted in the local elections.

4. Read 125 books. Now, now all books are hundreds of pages. I read a bunch of short zombie books. Last year I made my goal of 100, so I moved it up.
I am literally doing this right now. I'm at 111, and I will be able to read short books between today and tomorrow. This one is a win.

5. Learn to knit. Been on my list for about three years.
Moving this one to 2018.

6. Get to goal weight. I am about six pounds away!
I made it to goal weight! It has definitely been harder to keep up while in an office. Random snacks, ordering lunches, not being able to walk around all the time - the usual office stuff. I got a standing desk (because I was ridiculously jealous when my coworker got one and immediately ordered one for myself).

7. Find a job. This is the most necessary of all of them. Even if it's the thing I want to do the least.
Checked this one off in April! The last day I worked in 2017 was December 22nd, but I'll be back at it in 2018. This has been going really well for me - I'm officially on our website as an Account Manager!!!

2017 went really well for me personally and professionally. My 30s have been awesome so far (I'm even still getting carded!).

Let's see how 2018 goes.

Women's. Pockets.

I have a lot of strong opinions about things that don't seem that vital.

Examples: people who don't have any spatial awareness, those who don't look at themselves in every reflective surface, and people who abuse return policies (to name a few).

Bag policies and the sitch with women's pockets is goddamn vital.

We were going to attend the Ministry/Death Grips show on Saturday at Stage AE. I checked their bag policy beforehand. The FB page said that they used the NFL rules. Okay. Fine.

I used the wristlet that I took to a Steelers game at Heinz Field on 10/8/17. It's a lovely pink Coach wristlet that can fit my keys, cards, and phone. Spoiler alert: this matters.

I wait in line with Caleb, and when I get to the part of the line where ladies go to their own, the security guard immediately says "You're bag is too big." Oh, okay. I say that I took it to a Steelers game, and this lady pulls out an index card labeled like it's a bag and says "Does it look like it matches this?!" Ok, okay. Again.

Aside from the fact that her index card of shame wasn't even the correct size, she was nasty to me.

We had won the tickets at a Planned Parenthood fundraiser, so it wasn't the money. I offered to put my purse in the bushes and pick it up later, but Caleb wasn't having that. So we ended up having a lovely evening at Southern Tier.

Me after not getting into a show

But I started thinking.

How incredibly sexist are bag policies?

Women's clothing doesn't have fucking pockets. It's an epidemic of lack of pockets. If you compliment a lady on her outfit and it has pockets, that is literally the first thing she will say. I have two sundresses and a romper with pockets. If someone says "nice dress!" my immediate reply is to beam and say "IT HAS POCKETS!" like it's some kind of miracle.

I buy my work pants from the children's section at Target. (It's cheaper, and I get brighter colors. If I'm going to dress like a drunk 12 year old, I might as well shop in the same space). Even those pants barely have pockets! The front pockets are fake. Which is even worse than none in my option.

I sort of got off track there. Pockets for women is a hot button issue for me.

Back to bag policies.

My picture wristlet is apparently too big for Stage AE. Where exactly am I supposed to keep my things? Please enlighten me.

It isn't about me buying impractical clothing (although Quetzy knows I do). Those are jeans from a normal retail store, and they only have back pockets. These back pockets are only phone size deep. They aren't like the cavernous pockets men's pants can have. Fitting a phone in a pocket is an event.

Am I supposed to put my keys, phone, cards, and cash into pockets that barely fit a Samsung?

Am I supposed to leave any of those things behind?

It isn't like we aren't buying clothes with pockets. Every woman I know clings to the brand with pockets. I bought 4 pairs of shorts because I could put my phone in a front pocket. I would probably kill a stranger to have consistent access to pockets (hell, depending on the fit I might kill someone I know).

Bag policies put women at a direct disadvantage. They target women. We don't really have options about this.

Bag policies are sexist.

What to even say about the Vegas terror attacks?

I started and deleted a few posts about this.

I don't even know what to say anymore.

A homegrown white male terrorist fired into a country music festival, killed 58, and wounded 427 (those were the counts when I got home from work today). There are reports he was firing at some kind of tank to try to cause more death.

When are people going to act?

I'm so goddamn sick of people asking what can we do to stop this. The obvious answer is to pass some sensible fucking gun laws.

But we won't do that.

Instead, people will send thoughts and prayers, change their profile pictures, and use hashtags. I know I do all those things (except the prayers. I don't wanna lie to people!). But it isn't enough.

It's easy to fall into complacency. That we are all just waiting for the next tragedy. We couldn't change gun laws after a terrorist shot up a school! Why even bother trying?

The only thing we can do is try. Call our government when they support the NRA. Call out people who say stupid shit. Call these people terrorists because that is what they are.

Obviously not everyone who owns a firearm is irresponsible. I live in Western PA - people love their guns. Even I have fired one! But I would never own one. I couldn't be trusted to be safe with one.

What happened in Vegas is a tragedy. A terrorist went after innocent people. We shouldn't let it happen again. But we will.

Happy One Year Anniversary to Me!

Exactly one year ago today, my position at my last job was eliminated. The unchaperonedwhitegirl added funemployed to her title. It would be super easy to turn this into a post complaining about what happened, how hard it was to find a job, and how insurance can be the Dark Ages. But that's boring.

It has been a crazy fun year!

I traveled (which I will be doing again soon - booked a birthday trip to Chicago!). I got to my goal weight. I can do a headstand and crow pose. Caleb survived being married to me for a year. I made new friends. I work somewhere that doesn't involve me crying in my car. WE PAID OFF MY STUDENT LOANS!!!



I learned a lot about myself in the past year. I used to hate doing things alone. Like, I wouldn't go get a beer alone because I felt weird being sitting by myself at a bar. I don't suffer from that anymore. I'm pretty good at yoga. I recently discovered that I like metal. I am obsessed with crop tops and rompers.

It was scary and weird at the time, but my life has improved so much in the last year. Also, I think I handled the entire situation super cool. Not just the sabbatical itself, but the event. I didn't cry or anything. Which is probably the only thing it would have made sense to cry about in the about 5 years I was there.

My position being eliminated is one of the best things that ever happened to me.

College Reflection

By an odd sequence of events, I am drinking alone downtown. Sort of a lie - not that odd but kinda long to explain!

I got into town, found out plans had changed, and had to make the goddamn best of it. I didn't bus into town to go right home, did I?!

I decided to hit up some old haunts alone.

First I went to Backstage Bar. The live music was super fun, but the lack of audience was awkward. Good beer selection but not necessarily the best place to be alone. So many memories flooded back there. Light Up night where we did a bunch of shots and were totally out of our minds. Going there to wait out post show traffic when my in laws were in town. It being the place where we decided to go to a foam party at Cruze for caleb's birthday. Straight up best life material. I didn't wanna deal with post game crowd, so I left. 

Where else to go? 

Obviously the HBIC of old haunts - Milano's. 

Basically my adult life was formed here. I have memories of dancing, drinking, puking, crying, and celebrating here.  I have celebrated significant life events within these walls.

I was here before my first Gender and Film Studies class where I defined gender in the first few minutes. I had a vuvuzela during the Cup. I bought 12 packs of Keystone Ice for Steelers games. 

A boyfriend broke up with me, and we came here for survival. Three girls walked in - dressed way too fancy for here. They ordered a pitcher of Yuengling and a Bud Light. When they got to their table, the cop was there asking for ID . It was "in their car." They walked out and left the booze. 

I am obviously distraught at the end of my relationship and crying into a pint of Yuengling (like you do). The bartender walks over to throw the booze away. We cannot let that slide. 

Caitlin asks the guy is they are throwing it away and then asks if we can have it. We watched. Those ladies didn't drink a drop!

So we drink booze on underagers. No shame in our game!

Life is ridiculous and fun. I never want to lose sight of that. So my plans went awry tonight - I can make new plans! Everyone who knows me knows I am a planner. I like to know the who/what/where/when/why. Sometimes you have to make last minute changes. I have to adapt.

Being at Milanos makes me realize how lucky I am. I may not have loved Duquesne, but it gave me my best friends. Who may or may not read this. We spent so much time (and money) here. But I would change a second.

I reflect on college and realize how incredibly lucky I am.

Am I the Old Me or the New Me?

I haven't blogged in a while. I don't think I've really been feeling like myself.

Since I got back to work, I've sort of had almost a set routine. Caleb goes to Magic on Mondays, so I have the place to myself to eat Trader Joe-O's, drink wine, and watch random shows. Tuesdays we normally get adult things done. Wednesdays are with Amy and Andrew. Thursdays we go out a lot. On Fridays Caleb goes to Magic, and I again have the place to myself. Saturday morning is Farmer's Market then making food. Sunday is Game of Thrones!

It's all been different recently.

Caleb's been away for work for 2.5 weeks. Instead of meeting up with the people I usually hang out with, I've been to happy hours and parties with new people. Work has been crazy busy and is going to get busier. I don't feel like a total outsider there. I'm running on my lunch break.

It has been a complete and total change from my usual routine. I'm not sure if I haven't been feeling like myself or if this is who I am now.

I've felt almost outside myself at work since I started. Just recently have I started saying "we" when I talk about procedures or something like that. I was always saying "they." It's not like I'm with TJS anymore. I hadn't been there for a long time (and honestly, hadn't felt connected there in a long time). I spent the first few months waiting to be fired. Anytime something would go wrong, I assumed I'd be fired in the next day or so. I think I've finally calmed down after 5 months. It's weird feeling like part of a team again. Also, it's nice to have people say they value my opinion.

I love my friends, but meeting new people has been super fun. I went to a party where I didn't know anyone except whose house it was. I was super nervous because it was so far outside my comfort zone, but I had a great time! I met cool people that I don't think I would have met otherwise.

Running at lunch - seriously?! There was a point in my life where I said I wouldn't run unless something was chasing me. Honestly, probably not even then. Now I'm running around the island at lunch listening to podcasts. And I'm doing this on my own... of my own free will.

Is this who I am now - someone who runs and goes places where she doesn't know most people and actually fits in somewhat at a job? I'm not sure yet. I mean, I'm doing it so it's me. But is this really who I am? It kinda feels like it.

I look back on where I was 5 years ago. I had fewer tattoos and piercings. I was in a different job where I was still learning the wonderful world of insurance. I was always with my friends from college (who seriously, I love. Cannot stress that enough. Not a critique of them - critique of me for not trying to meet new people). I wasn't married. I weight about 40 pounds more.

This new me isn't a bad person to be. I guess I just need to reconcile the fact that I'm vastly different than I have been in the past, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. I guess I'm feeling like the new me.

Remembering My Dad

My father died 8 years ago today. Cancer. He was diagnosed in April 2009 and died in July 2009. I was in Chicago with Jon when he was diagnosed (turns out my body's reaction to stress like this is to vomit. I saw a lot of bathrooms in Chicago!). I know where I was and who I was with when my mother called me to tell me that he died.

I remember the viewing. We have a rather morbid tradition of going bowling after viewings. We went bowling. I'm awful, but you can drink there! Plus, after a full day of repeating the same information about yourself ("I'm Blair. I'm the oldest. I graduated from Duquesne last year. I live in Shadyside. I work at Parkway Center."), it's nice to throw a ball at something.

I remember being a pallbearer at the funeral. I still have the white gloves. I don't remember what else I wore. I remember a blur of people. I remember driving from the wake to the church to pick up flowers.

Today always makes me think of all the things he missed. I was living on Ellsworth Avenue, driving the red Neon, and working at CBCInnovis the last time he knew anything about me.

He never met Caleb. He didn't see us move into the condo. He wasn't there when I got engaged. He didn't see me get married.

He doesn't know that I got a tattoo with a windmill on it because he called me Quixote. He doesn't know that I'm still fighting windmills.

There are so many tiny, small things that I still even now sometimes think I should tell him. There are so many things that I will never get to tell him.

You can buy beer and wine at the grocery store now! I eat chili! I make beer (among other things)! I travel on my own now! I'm still afraid of monkeys!

What I tried to take away from it is that you can't wait to do things. So I travel. I wear what are definitely ridiculous outfits. I created an alter ego with her own hashtag. I try whatever I can. I don't want to realize one day that I have a list of things I wanted to do that I'll never get to do.


I wish I had some sort of profound note to end this on. Some life secret. I don't. All I have is this:

None of us are guaranteed tomorrow. We aren't even guaranteed this afternoon. Don't waste it.

Goal Weight Reached!

I finally hit my goal weight!! Forty pounds down from where I started.

Me 2012.

Last year, Caleb and I got married in Hawaii. It was a super fun week of sun, breweries, and you know, getting married. When I was looking at pictures, I realized I wasn’t happy with how I looked in them. It definitely wasn’t just a posture thing either – I tried taking selfies standing up straight to see if that would help.

After years of saying “I’d rather have fun than be thin,” I decided it was time to do something about it.

I didn’t do anything crazy. I’ve been using MyFitnessPal for almost a year straight at this point! It isn’t always super fun (and there are definitely days where I just log a coffee so I keep inputting something), but it’s really worked for me. Tracking what I eat has made me actually think about what I am eating instead of just eating for the sake of eating. MFP has a lot of restaurant menus, so I can look something up quickly. Like, if I’m meeting someone at a place I don’t like to eat, I’m not going to eat thousands of calories of food I don’t really enjoy.

Me 2017. Same shirt. Really.

If it’s something I enjoy? I’m going to go for it. Victory Dirt Wolf is about 240 calories. Worth every single one. Auntie Anne’s pretzel bites with cheese dip while on a trip to the outlets? Yes please! It’s Sunday Night Snack Club and everyone made all the things? That’s dinner today. I will always have food that is tasty, but I’m not going to waste my time eating bland, sodium filled food that I don’t even like. Not only is it calories I could use on something else, it’s depressing.

One thing people don’t ever talk about when they talk about losing weight? How expensive it is! I have had to buy basically all new clothes. The vast majority of things I own don’t fit anymore. I know it’s such a first world problem, but it can be frustrating. I was going to a bridal shower a few months ago, and I realized morning of that I didn’t really have anything appropriate to wear that fit. The dress I had planned on wearing was way too big. I managed to put together an outfit, and I took myself to the outlets right after. I’ve been spending a lot of time at the outlets recently…

My funemployment helped with losing weight a lot. When you’re in an office and there are cookies and birthday cakes and happy hours and coworker lunches, it’s so easy to graze all day. I was talking about MFP with a coworker the other day, and I realized that the people here only know me like this. They didn’t see me 40 pounds ago. People were surprised to hear that I had lost that much weight. To here, I am the person who eats Thug Kitchen recipes and might refuse cookies.

I feel better, I look better, and I’m overall happier. Going forward, I just have to keep up the lifestyle change I made!

Imposter Syndrome

Before I started writing, I Googled whether or not this was an actual syndrome that I would be arm chair diagnosing myself with.  It is not considered a psychological disorder nor is it in the DSM.

Imposter syndrome was first described by Suzanne Imes, PhD, and Pauline Rose Clance, PhD in the 1970s. (I can't be the only one whose first though was "Huh. Not surprised they're both women," can I? Digressing as usual...).  Wikipedia says that tt is a concept describing high-achieving individuals who are marked by an inability to internalize their accomplishments and a persistent fear of being exposed as a "fraud."

I always feel like such a complete and total fraud! It infects all areas of my life.

A small part of it is that whole fake geek girl concept. The misogynist oh you're a girl you can't possibly like comics or whatever the hell you like because you're a girl. Ew by the way. I love horror movies. I've watched everything from Train to Busan (incredible South Korean zombie film - beautifully done. Cannot recommend it enough) to Dickshark (which I do not recommend but someone had to watch it). My freshman or sophomore year of college, I was buying Texas Chainsaw Massacre from the Best Buy in Monroeville. The cashier asked if I was buying it for my dad or brother or boyfriend. When I said it was for me, he said something like "Okay, if you don't wanna tell me." That's the first moment I can remember feeling something I was doing was super fake. I got back into the Walking Dead comic books, and I always feel self-conscious buying them. Caleb asking me to go to play Monday or Friday night Magic freaks me out because I imagine everyone there would realize that I don't really know that much about Magic. I'm worried about Magic nerds judging me. Choices.

Friendship is definitely a part of it. I'm constantly worried that people are going to find out that I'm not interesting or funny or whatever. That I'm a terribly insecure person who is constantly wondering if people even like me. I super overcompensate for that by pretending that I don't care about what people think about me. I care deeply. Like probably too much. The internal (and external) conflict I have about what I wear to things is so weird. I don't feel like the person who does interesting things. Like, I'll say things like "I don't think I'm the kind of person to get a tattoo." Demonstrably untrue! I have four tattoos. Multiple piercings. This is the person I am. In college (and even years after) I always felt like a sidekick. I was the girl in the background while Jon and Johnny were doing fabulous and crazy things. I still feel like that sometimes.

Work is the worst. I think I have some kind of weird skittishness left after my position was eliminated. Like, towards the end, it felt like nothing I could do was right. Every answer I gave, everything I did felt wrong. Now I'm back in the game (and have been employed for about two and a half months now!). But I question everything. Things I know! Someone asked me how many children under age 21 are the max on and ACA rated plan. I called UPMC to ask. I know that (btw it's 3). I don't trust myself enough to do things. I'm good at putting plans on spreadsheets. I'm quick at it. I can remember it. For some reason, I kept fucking it all up when I started. In my interviews I presented myself the way I believe I should be. As soon as I was given the chance to show it, I started to doubt it. I keep thinking everyone is going to realize that I have no idea what I'm doing and that hiring me was a giant mistake.

I have my 60 day review on Wednesday. I have to fill out a self-evaluation. I feel like I should write I AM A GIANT FRAUD WHO HAS NO IDEA WHAT SHE IS DOING AND IS ALSO A TERRIBLE ADULT AND HUMAN BEING. DID YOU EVEN GOOGLE ME BEFORE YOU HIRED ME I AM OBVIOUSLY INCAPABLE OF ANYTHING. Probably not the best thing to say.

So...how do you get over it? I have no idea. I'm going to continue being the unchaperonedwhite girl. Having fun, dressing in the crazy 90s clothes I didn't get to wear the first time around, and following advice I would give my friends. Which probably starts with wine but has solid thoughts about what a bad ass bitch we are.

Credit to Tenor