Love at First Sight ... and Eight Years Later

Do I believe in love at first sight? Well, that’s a complicated question.

If we’re talking shoes, handbags and my pets, then yes. 

But if we’re talking the more traditional, girl sees guy and *bam* it’s love. Well, not exactly, but maybe sorta. 

I met my husband online. On Hot or Not, to be exact. He has said when he read my profile, he thought, “I could marry this girl!” 

I wasn’t quite as blown away by his first email to me, but I was interested. 

We began chatting online, and I quickly started falling for him; however, it wasn't until I saw him standing at my door for our first date, the verdict was in: HOT.

Due to his being late (on purpose, since he didn’t think a local concert made a good first date), we ended up winging it. We went bowling, got milkshakes at Dennys, and played at a playground near his house in Rancho Cordova. 

It was the most magical first date this girl could have. I think I started falling in love that very first date, and I think that’s about as close to “love at first sight” as you can get. I went home that night thinking, if he's for real, I could marry this guy. 

And so I did. Exactly a year later, he recreated that first date, and at the end, proposed. On June 23, we celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary. It’s been eight years since that fateful first date. 

To mark the five-year milestone, we took wedding anniversary photos at the park that started it all, Hagen Park in Rancho Cordova. 

Here are some of my favorites. Thanks to Christina Campbell, Lifestyle Photographer.

 

 

 

 There's even more here.

Updating an Antique Bedroom

I recently got it in my head that I wanted to update our bedroom. We never really finished the bedroom since moving back in after last summer's mold problem. The only catch was, no extra money with which to do it. That might be a problem for most people, but not a thrifty pro like myself.

Problem No. 1:

It never actually looked this neat, except when we had company. Coloring is off in pic.

Our pressed-wood bookshelf style headboard was driving me crazy. The open space made it nearly impossible to prop up pillows to watch movies. And I was getting tired of all the random stuff left on it.

Solution:

 This super-sturdy wood headboard not only has the shelf that my husband loves, and the solid back for pillows that I desired, but it also has a built-in reading lamp and two cubbies to store all the things that cluttered the last headboard!

Price: Free from Craigslist.

Problem No. 2:

Our white Ikea Kajak always looked messy, took up a lot of space and didn’t match our antique-style bedroom. It spins so you can show the mirrored side, but it was always so overflowing with towels, spinning caused towels to fall on the floor. 

Solution:                 

 

This pressed-wood pantry fits perfectly next to our entertainment center, works well as a linen closet, and I love that it has doors so no one has to see our linens! Bonus: The bottom shelf stores Aaron’s music books, notebooks, harmonics and "box of stuff" that cluttered the entertainment center.

Price: Free from a friend.

Problem No. 3:

I don’t have a night stand. Not really. I have a wobbly bookshelf filled with beauty stuff. I pull a modern blue nightstand and a floor lamp in front of that at night. Tack-y.

Problem No. 4:

I had already dug into the mess when I took this.

The clutter! Although my husband is mostly to blame for this, I admit my part. He piles things on the entertainment center, the headboard and his dresser. I stuff the small built-in shelves with papers and random things that belong in the bedroom but don’t really have a place.

Solutions 3 and 4:

The small shelves now house all my lotions, body sprays and nail polishes. Lining everything up prevents me from shoving random items there.

This space is now officially my girlie corner of the room.

I sorted through my collapsible organizers and made better use of them. One continues to hold my belts and hair scarves. The second holds sunglasses, glasses, sunblock and all those little things I would stuff in the shelves (with plenty of room to toss in more). I moved the third to the entertainment center to hold the CDs and DVDs that were always lying around.

And I finally convinced my husband to unpack his boxes of stuff that sat on the entertainment center, driving me crazy.

Now, I just have to secure the perfect nightstand to fit between the bed and my antique dresser and decide on curtains. Aaron's agreed to hang curtains for our five-year wedding anniversary ... he really hates hanging things.

I'm also toying with the idea of some romantic word art above the bed. Something along the lines of this.

Freelancing is Not an Auction for the Lowest Bidder

I'm hyper aware of what I post online could come back to bite me in the butt. For this reason, I hold back a lot. I rant to my husband. I rant to friends. I write in a locked journal. You get the picture.

You never know who is reading your little blog. In this case, I hope people read this post because I'm just plain sick of the state of freelancing. I'm tired of "wanna-be writers," as I call them, working for pennies and doubting that other writers actually receive decent pay from private clients.

In the world of freelancing, it's not "to each his own." When green-around-the-ears writers flood the market and accept meager rates, it drives down the going rate for all writers. I've seen it first hand. There's nothing more frustrating than wasting your time applying for a writing gig, only to find out it pays next-to-nothing once the gig is offered.

I recently had a pretty insulting experience with a start-up publication. I asked for the rates as soon as I was welcomed aboard. The pay per article was low but acceptable for a start-up, at least I thought. Then, after jumping through hoops with contracts and virtual meetings, I find out the real rates with the word counts. Laughable, insulting, ridiculous! But I seemed to be the only one insulted. Plenty of writers were eager for this opportunity—eager to pound out their best investigative journalistic work for a magazine looking to make butt-loads in advertising but not willing to pay even $.10/word.

I see it everywhere. Writers begin to think in terms of hourly rates. If they can pound out article after article in one hour, then the paltry per word rates really aren't so bad, they say. Sure, I write for a variety of places. And there's some justification for taking a lower rate from a huge company that pays twice a week, like clockwork—a place where things operate differently from the "real world" of freelancing. I do it. But that's the exception to the rule.

Writing for a ginormous content mill is not the same as writing for a private client or a magazine or a newspaper. Outside in the real world, you have to demand better pay. You have to realize your worth. Because the bottom line is, better pay is out there. But thanks to the over-saturated market of writers for hire, it's becoming harder and harder to attain. Places are paying less because writers are willing to work for less.

It's got to stop. The idea of "I'll do it for the clips" has got to stop, too. I've done it. I did it recently, accepting pay below my standards, and, surprise, surprise, I regretted it right away. The editor was unprofessional, and I'm still waiting on my copies of the magazine for those clips.

I know that times are tough and the market is changing. But it hasn't changed so much that I have to work for pennies, and I wish other writers would wake up and realize that, too.

Sunny Days, Keeping the Clouds Away

Officially, it's been spring for almost a month, but it's only starting to feel like it in Sacramento. This beautiful, sunny Sacramento weather has inspired me to walk the dog more, spend more time in the sunshine and exercise more.

So far, I'm doing well on accounts, and my new giant trampoline is certainly helping with resolutions two and three!

The trampoline was a gift from a friend who is moving and didn't want to take it with her. Aaron and I put it together yesterday, and I'm having a lot of fun on it ... in small increments. I'm just too out of shape (and with heart problems) to bounce for very long.

Aaron and I, and by that I mean mostly Aaron, have been working hard to ready our large yards for human use. We tend to ignore the backyard all winter, until the grass grows so high, Gizmo gets lost in "the jungle."

 

Now the jungle has been tamed into nice, short suburban blades. Roses have been trimmed, weeds pulled and the yards sprayed for bugs.

Soon we'll go through the exhausting process of dragging the patio furniture out of the shed and setting up the shade canopy. I can't wait until I'm sprawled across the patio couch, reading a good book.

First roses of the season.

Our resident squirrels seem to be enjoying the weather, too.

Maybe we'll even plant some flowers along the fence, finally!

Hello, Spring!

T-Shirt Surgery FTW

I used to be skinny, and now I am not.

Back in my itty-bitty days, I amassed a collection of rock band babydoll tees I haven't worn for years because I'm not an x-small in juniors anymore. Plus, I'm over the babydoll style.

Give me something loose so my pits can breathe and and my muffin top isn't popping out for everyone to see!

Not wanting to see my band tees go to waste (and too cheap to spend money on more), I long ago hatched a plan to repurpose them and finally made good on it this evening.

For my first project, I snipped away at my Ramones "Road to Ruin" babydoll I've had for over 10 years.

Yea, my camera phone sucks a big one.

This picture from January 2008 probably shows one of the last times I comfortably fit the tee. (That skirt, too.)

This outfit was for The Secretions' "That Kind of Girl" video shoot.

I cut the graphic into a patch. My paper slicer was handy for this.

I then hand-stitched the patch on this awesome black cold-shoulder tee I treated myself to for my birthday. At $7.99 on clearance from Delia's, I consider that a score. I got one in teal, too.

 And, voila!

To christen my new favorite tee, I wore it to The Dollyrots show at The Blue Lamp.

Because I'm Awesome!

These semi-skinny jeans were also a birthday present to myself. They have a rhinestone button and were $10 from Ross. Once I got them home, I realized they are a little loose on my legs for skinny jeans. The Ross mirror tricked me, I guess. Still, $10 for Lee jeans I've seen at department stores for $30+? No complaints.

And yes, that's our bathroom trash on a table. It's the only way to keep the dog out of it. Isn't it cute? My mom decorated it with craft foam to match my shower curtain. It looks identical to the one JC Penny sold for a ridiculous amount. The thrifty and crafty genes are strong in my family.

Justice for Trayvon Martin

On Thusday, I marched for justice in the Trayvon Martin case.

Justice. That's all I want.

In my opinion, George Zimmerman should be arrested and tried for his actions in Martin's death. What he should be charged with, I can't say. He may be guilty of manslaughter; he may even be guilty of a hate crime. And because of all his previous 911 calls for things that seem insane to me, I think his sanity should be evaluated by a state-appointed psychiatrist.

But, I don't have all the facts. No one does right now. And as much I have disgust for the man I heard using a racial slur on the 911 tape -- who by his own admission, followed and killed an unarmed teenager -- he should not be judged by public opinion, especially when there's still so many questions left unanswered.

That's the problem with how this case is being played out. Bits and pieces of evidence become public and people jump to judgements. A lot of the time, the "evidence" isn't evidence, at all. It's an anonymous witness or Zimmerman's father (who wasn't even there that night). It's a picture of Martin that turns out not to be Martin, as if how he once posed in a picture has any shred of relevance to his terrible death.

I read the comments to news stories. People comment on hearsay as if it's undisputed fact. People use the assault on Martin's reputation as justification for his death. People are cruel, ignorant and biased. And my gosh, our country is racist.

If and when this case actually goes to trial, I imagine the lawyers will have a hard time finding jurors who haven't formed opinions on Zimmerman's guilt or innocence. Most of those opinions will be based on inaccurate information.

As a journalist, I know that despite my obsessive following of this story and my knowledge of what information reported is fact, what is conjecture and what is just outright misinformation from unreliable sources, I still only have a small part of the whole story.

That's why I marched for Trayvon Martin. I want justice to be done -- justice that this case will go to trial and Zimmerman's guilt or innocence will be decided by the legal system, and the legal system alone.

Gathering for Trayvon Martin at William Land Park in Sacramento, California on March 29, 2012

 

Recommended reads: What is known, what isn't about Trayvon Martin's death via Miami Herald

Read more here: http://www.sacbee.com/2012/04/01/4381721/marcos-breton-a-hoodie-didnt-kill.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy

Marcos Breton: A hoodie didn't kill Trayvon Martin; Zimmerman's gun did via Sacramento Bee

A Mad Men Kind of Birthday

I had given up on maintaining this blog, but Mad Men has brought me back. My Mad Men birthday party, that is.

I love themed parties. I love dressing up. Since I was a kid, I've felt like I was born in the wrong era. I drool over '50s and '60s cars. I have an addiction to vintage-style polka dot dresses. I know it's so trendy to embrace the vintage style, especially with the growing popularity of rockabilly, but I was pretty much born this way.

Planning this party was half the fun.

Wardrobe

Looking in my closet, two dresses jumped out at me. I ultimately decided against this sailor dress because it was more Peggy Olson at the office, and I was going more for Betty Draper hosting a cocktail party. Peggy has brains, but ice-queen Betty has style.

Menu

I would have loved to go all-out with the food, but we had a miniscule budget. We stuck with classic finger foods from the early '60s. Pigs in a blanket was the most hearty appetizer. Deviled eggs, chips and dip, veggies and dip, cheese and crackers, and jello rounded out the menu. I wanted to do fondu, using our awesome fondu set, but the menu was already stretching our budget.

Guests ate on our wedding china -- only the second time it's ever been used! And, of course, we drank from martini glasses and chain smoked. Well, OK, we drank generic 7-Up with maraschino cherries and pineapple chunks, and smoked candy cigarettes from Candy Heaven in Old Sacramento.

Memories

I smoked from my Gramma's rhinestone-encrusted cigarette holder, which was so very Breakfast at Tiffany's. I found the cigarette holder when I was packing up Gramma's apartment after she died. It was fitting because not only did Gramma smoke like a chimney during my childhood, but when she got her smokes and lottery tickets at the 7-11 down the street, she let me pick out candy, and I often picked out candy cigarettes.

Games

We played charades with clues relevant to the Mad Men era. In the excitement and laughter of the game, I forgot to take pictures. Everyone failed pretty miserably at this '60s Ad Slogans and Tagline quiz I adapted from Oprah.com, of all places.
 
Decorations

Speaking of ads, I decorated with print ads from the era, including some used on the show. I focused on Sterling & Cooper accounts, including Lucky Strike, Heineken, Belle Jolie and Kodak.

Much of the decor in my house already suited the era. I covered up anything that didn't with curtains and sheets. I littered the fireplace mantel with literature from the time and played '60s tunes on our record player.

Photo Booth

I used white lace polka dot curtains to turn our Ramones wall into a backdrop for photos.

By the end of the night, we had killed four packs of candy cigarettes and drank way too many mocktails in true Mad Men style.