Ikea Emotional Rollercoaster: in 8 Steps

Step one: Plan Trip w/ friend that has vehicle with adequate storage
Primary Emotion: Empowerment

Sub-steps:
-look at items on website to plan out which items you will look at in person.
- resolve to only buy items on the list you've created on the website
- sleep well knowing your apartment is soon going to be the epitome of organization and chicness

Step 2: Drive to Ikea w/ Friend mentioned above
Primary Emotion: Anticipation

Sub-steps:
- spend a lot of time looking for parking and psyching yourself up to only spend $XX
- Optional sub-step: Fuel up in cafeteria and have ongoing social commentary about the cultural prism that is the Ikea cafeteria.
- look at nearly everything in the store even though it isn't on your list
- pick up a handful of things before you're halfway through the showrooms because they cost less than $3 ea


Step 3: Select items to purchase
Primary emotion: Dread

Sub-steps:
-add things to your list that you didn't even realize existed but you NEED
-quickly do math and realize that you are blowing your budget. 
-convince your friend to impulse buy so he/she will return the favor and your budget is retroactively made in pencil

Step 4: Purchase
Primary Emotion: Acceptance

Sub-steps:
- Fight with giant cardboard pallets that are stacked as if everyone in the world is 6 feet tall and really strong
- Try to maneuver pallet cart like the sober person you know you are
- Try not to listen when total is announced by cashier.
- Buy 50 cent frozen yogurt cone which makes you feel better on two levels 1) low fat! 2) Bargain! (It might actually be $1, but whatever)

Step 5: Pack up car
Primary Emotion: Accomplished

Sub-steps:
- curse out your dad for not being Arthur Weasley and putting that charm on the car that makes it hold an obscene amount
- master spacial relations and feats of strength simultaneously (it is appropriate to announce "Girl Power" if your party is all female)
- Get into the car with the renewed sense of accomplishment that your apartment is going to be way more awesome than it was that morning

Step 6: Arrive at Home
Primary Emotion: Dread

Sub-steps
- realize that despite how exhausted you are, your purchases are not already in your apartment nor are they magically assembled
- try to figure out when the eff you're going to get this sh*t together so you can get your apartment back together

Step 7: Assembly
Primary Emotions: Frustration, Self-Loathing

Sub-steps:
- Find a way to move the packages to a large empty space by yourself
- Tear open the box and find the directions and fun little bags of screws
- Ensure that you have all the parts you will need.  (My bff suggested you lay them out in neat piles and as OCD as that sounds, it helps)
- Get to work. (I find it's best to do this with trash tv on in the background, so you can be reminded every so often that you are in fact an intelligent person) 
- Make mistakes that are almost impossible to un-do because those stupid plastic nails don't really work in two directions (Note: the frequency of your mistakes will increase as you go on)
-Complete assembly and wrestle drawers into their place as needed

Step 8: Celebration
Primary Emotions: Accomplishment and Exhaustion

sub-steps:
-send photos to your Mom and various other people
- Have a drink and/or pass out promptly.... you can put things into your new furniture tomorrow.

Sara For The Win

Remember that show on MTV Fanatic? I always would watch wit

h a mix of jealousy and judgement.  On one hand, these people got to meet some famous person (typically a musician), but it was usually because they experienced terrible and this celebrity helped them through a difficult time.  It also always seemed like the fanatic, only liked this one celebrity.  Their bedroom walls were covered with posters and it seemed like this one person was all the pop-culture they would ever need.  I would muse about who I would like to be on the show to meet, but the idea of only listening to one musician ever seemed daunting. 

When I broke up with T last summer, and started this whole healing journey.  Sara Bareilles' song "Gonna Get Over You" had only been out for a few weeks.  I had always loved Sara and been the type of fan that ordered the album before previewing it because I am that loyal. But this song, became my little musical mantra.  I changed my ringtone to it. I hand wrote out lyrics on a vinyl white board cling and hung it in my new single-girl bedroom.  When I found Sara singing "Gonna Get Over You" combined with CeeLo's "F*ck You" on YouTube, I posted it to my Facebook page without really thinking it through. Apparently, someone tipped T off to it. I didn't really mean to musically flip him off so much as I was like "Yeah, Sara! You rock!"

So fast forward several months (holy crap) and I have Sara's new album on pre-order. I check iTunes weekly to see if "Brave" is available as a legit ringtone yet (it's not, wtf). Then, I stumble into Sara's Glamour article on how to be fearless on Facebook. I already consider her one of my imaginary best friends (natch, since we're on a first name basis) but now I feel as though we are kindred spirits. She just got out of a six year relationship? no way! me too! 

The other thing that really struck me was that she's 3 years older than me and in the same place in her personal life. Lately, I've been hard on myself worrying I'm less attractive to the single men out there because I'm already 30 and single.  As much as I know it doesn't accomplish anything to regret, I really wish I was back out on the market at 28, it seems like it would have been so much easier.  I look at who else is out there on jDate and I feel like I'm on the older end of the never married group.  There are divorcees in their 40s, but then a bunch of girls in their mid 20s. Why go for a 30 year old? Do people assume I have issues (only a few) or am baby crazy (only mildly)? Just give me a chance! I promise my boobs are still perky and I won't get pregnant "by accident" after 6 weeks of dating just to lock down a husband.

I digress. Knowing my imaginary bff and I can sing along to her new album as we take fun day trips and be excited for our romantic futures, makes me even more anxious for next Tuesday when my iPhone will magically have her new album somehow.

Hard not to get discouraged

So I got back from Europe and started my new job. Between my job and my school free summer freedom, I feel like my life is so busy. And to think I was worried about being bored this summer without constant boat days.  

Anyway, I signed up for jdate after some family pressure. So far I am not seeing any benefits.  It's hard not to get discouraged, but I feel more pressure since it is a paid site. Also, their interface sucks and their app is worse. I feel like a walking romantic comedy most of the time...where is my Justin Long/John Cusack? 

My Boobs

I guess I should start this at the beginning....

I used to be flat chested until I was 19. Not completely flat, "Barely B's", little sporty boobs, and I was ok with it. I would just be a butt girl. Then I went on the pill my Freshman year of college and grew C's. The most awkward part of this whole development (no pun intended) was that I went home for spring break, and came back a cup size larger. I cracked jokes about it with my friends (mostly male at the time) and said "People are going to think I got a boob job over break." I was content with my 34C's.  I was in total denial about how big they were. If someone told me I had "big boobs" I would rush into denial. Then randomly at 24, I seemed to outgrow my 34C's.  Unwilling to be professionally measured again, I just bumped myself up to a 34D. And it was what it was. D seems so large. I'm just a curvy girl, I'm not THAT girl with big boobs.  I would caveat any complaint I had about large boobs as "rich people problems". For example, I can't wear one of those super cute bandeau strapless bikini tops, or fit into certain shirts & dresses. Or I have to go up a size in a dress so I can get it over these babies. But, 34D.....meh, not that weird.


For the better part of the last year, I've started to suspect I had outgrown my bras. I had religiously been wearing a Victoria's Secret Angel bra that I knew ran on the large side. I would just buy new colors when they went on sale. One day late last fall, I had opened a new pink one that I had ordered for a great price but not really needed. It didn't fit. I had spillage everywhere. Armpit vagina, the whole thing. Bummed out, I held it up against the same bra that was a little older. It was visibly smaller....WTF VS.  After a running conversation with my (large breasted) sister regarding whether or not there was bra vanity sizing plaguing our society, I decided to go get professionally measured again. Tucking your boobs in all day is just not fun or cute.  I dragged her with me to Nordstrom where I had heard good things about their particular lingerie department. I'm not sure if going to get fit for a bra is more or less awkward with a friend/sister. The whole situation is pretty awkward, but if you're close enough to your chosen friend/sister, showing them your boobs is NBD. 

I was expecting her to say I was off by a cup size or a band size. But no, I'm a 34DDD. "Triple D?!" I said in disbelief. I didn't even know such a thing existed. I had a friend in college who told me she was a 30F, but her boobs were HUGE. The attendant and my sister tried to make me feel better about it not being a huge deal, but I'm still sort of upset about my own bra size.  I purchased a few bras that were either 32E's or 34DDD's. (E=DDD in Europe) Wearing my new bras, I noticed an amazing difference. This is way more comfortable and flattering.  Is this what women feel like when they finally switch to maternity jeans even though they just don't want to? (I'm not saying being pregnant and having large boobs are equivalent hardships) But, really? DDD?

This past weekend, I was visiting my BFF in DC and we were shopping, as we're prone to do. I commented that I was in dire need of a strapless, and I thought I should just go back to Nordstrom and ask for help since I have such special needs boobs.  She came with me into the dressing room, which was helpful. When you're buying something you don't really want, but need, it's hard to be non-biased. The attendant was really nice and patient. Ultimately, I left with a strapless bra, and two bras from the sale rack. One of those bras, was a 32G.......I almost didn't buy it because of the tag. I mean, G?!  With boobs like those I'd belong on Maury's special on "I'm addicted to plastic surgery" or "I refuse to get a breast reduction because my 82 year old husband loves me the way I am, even though I have health issues." Tell me you wouldn't watch that.

The worst part of this whole experience was, that we were almost late to the Pride Parade because I had to try on like 12 bras. So then I am apologizing to my BFF's wife for having special needs boobs that require extra help in a guerrilla fitting room environment. I can't even pick out my own bras! Gone are the days of just knowing how everything will fit. I texted my BFF on Monday to announce I was wearing my 32G and although it's comfortable (damn you, Nordstrom) I feel like everyone is staring at me knowing I'm wearing a circus bra. You know how you feel like people are judging you and your UTI when you buy Cranberry juice? It's like that.

It sounds like I have a mostly hate relationship with my boobs, but on the contrary, I do love them.  I want to have photos and potentially a plaster cast made so that when I'm done having babies, I can have them put back up. I get a lot of compliments on them and they are pretty perky, but seriously....DDD? 

Moral of the story: I have boob specific body dysmorphia (self diagnosed, without WebMD).   #RichPeopleProblems

Istanbul

I started to write my trip reflection paper yesterday, and I got off on a tangent. I think I'm going to trim this down significantly, or take out completely, but thought it would make an appropriate blog post:

Yesterday, I noticed a video posted on Facebook recapping the recent protests in Turkey. I sat there and watched the full seven and a half minutes in horror.  How could Istanbul be so crazy and dangerous when I was just there?  In many ways, this conflict over a park is really reflective of Istanbul, generally speaking.  In a word, Istanbul is supersaturated.  More and more Turks are migrating into the city every year and even though the city is expanding, a city as old as Istanbul can only support so much growth.  It is no surprise that a public situation can quickly escalate and boil over. 

One night in Istanbul, when we were walking through Taksim to arrive at the Alumni event, a group of police officers were arriving in Taksim Square in full riot gear.  This alarmed those of us who noticed, but anyone we mentioned the sight to seemed to brush us off.  At a time when Syrians bombing the Southern Turkish borders is a daily occurrence, are riots in Taksim Square just more of the same?  Growing up in a Jewish community, it seems like every small act of terror in Israel is news, yet unrealistic to report in the mainstream media.  I signed up for a Birthright trip in college because I just needed to get to Israel and see what the fuss was all about.  While walking through Jerusalem, I noticed how machine guns carried by 19 year olds seemed normal and adapted to ignore it myself.  Despite the increased weapon presence out in the open, I didn’t feel unsafe.  I know that although many Israelis fear suicide bombs, they don’t let it rule their lives too much.  Between my experience in Israel and the Boston Marathon bombing, I knew that I would have to be careful, but I could not be scared. 

Blogging habit?

So while I was traveling in Istanbul and Athens for a school trip, I kept a blog religiously. It was the easiest way to send my family updates and I think it was a success. So then I got used to blogging everyday, and then I just stopped. Maybe I can funnel some of that blogging habit into this blog again. I know that I get page views, but I'm not exactly sure who really reads this, not that I'm writing for attention.

Anyway, my trip was amazing. I would love to go back to Istanbul and also visit other parts of Greece.

Re-activated my Okcupid account last night (this is my 3rd time). Not sure I'm ready for the real thing yet, but it will be nice to get some positive attention that isn't from a creepy Iraqi guy that saw an American girl in shorts in a hotel lobby and decided he needed to take her out for dinner.....That was so not ok.  Ah....adventures.

Was introduced at my Grandfather's wake this weekend as "the one that isn't married." Yep, I'm the un-married sister. I'm almost over my dad referring to me as "My daughter, the engineer" which feels fraudulent since I haven't "engineered" anything in a while.  Spending my first memorial day weekend on dry land, at a wake, and now I'm a spinster. Grrrrreeeat. 

Just started a new job. It's strange to be so comfortable and confused all at once. Anxious to know my new products, excited to have more responsibilities, not sure how I feel about having a work assigned smart phone. 

Trying to see the upside in these things, but in the meantime, I'm just so single. Maybe that will make for interesting posts?

Don't stand too close...

So in Game of Thrones, there is a character who is mostly a bad guy, but more importantly, he was scarred on his face as a child from fire. He probably wasn't going to be a good looking guy anyway, but it sort of makes him extra beastly. Even though this character is very brave and a good fighter, he gets crazy around fire. He abandons an important battle once they started setting everything aflame. At first it seems like an elephant being afraid of a mouse, but then you remember why he is so terrified and almost forgive him.

There were certain things that T would say to me that never sat well with me, but I didn't realize just how deeply he was cutting me until after I moved out. Several months ago a male friend was giving me unsolicited advice on working out and I just felt irrationally offended. I finally explained that I really didn't need help and I really didn't want to talk about it and why. I was hoping that it was just a raw wound, but today I found myself getting upset by a similar conversation again. I shouldn't be so offended, I'm the one that opened up the talk of wanting to be thinner. I don't like watching my calories or doing anything in particular. Eventually I just crack and it goes downhill. I much prefer to just try to be as active as possible and eat as healthy as possible. I managed to gracefully end the topic of conversation without an explanation. I'm really trying not to talk about T anymore. Crap....I hope the blog doesn't count.

Anyway, I really hope these old scars heal over to the point where I don't think about it anymore....time will tell.