Closing Time.

Sorry, I’ve moved! Click here to join me at my new blog- Call Me Trouble.

I’ve put a great deal of thought into my first post at “Call Me Trouble.” I didn’t anticipate how hard it would be to write my last post at Beer & Clothing. Sure, I’ve gone through plenty of blogs, Differant1, Crazy/Beautiful, Manic Pixie Dream Girl, but this one was different. Beer and Clothing is where I began to chronicle my life as I know it now.

I struggled with this change, do I change the name? Do I become a dot com? When should I pull the trigger? Finally, something said “go.” Then came what to name my new domain, not wanting to rush it, my goal of making the switch in time for the New Year got pushed out. I thought, maybe I won’t change it. This is fine for now.

It’s not fine. Every time I comment on a post and have to type out beerandclothingincleveland.wordpress.com, I cringed. When my Aunt asked “what’s your site again?” and I said the address out loud, I knew she’d never remember it by the time she got home. Then I feel obligated to write it out on a piece of paper. Double cringe. It’s too long.

Beer and Clothing in Cleveland was my playful take on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. A few people have made the connection, but not most. I view my blog title like I do Halloween costumes, if you have to explain it, it’s not good. Though I do like my writing style, it’s not reminiscent of Thompson’s dynamic Gonzo Journalism.

Lastly, while I do love beer, and clothing, and Cleveland, I am not an expert at any of them. I like reviewing my encounters with all three but my ramblings are about so much more. If someone searches for “Cleveland fashion” or “Beer clothing in Cleveland” I’m sure my page only disappoints. (My apologies if that’s how you came to read this!)

Beer and Clothing, it’s been great. Friends, family, & fabulous people who stumbled upon this blog, I hope you’ll join me for the ride at Call Me Trouble.

Relationship Advice: You Have To Ask.

Does this conversation sound familiar?

Context: Couple is driving home from a nice dinner out.

Lady: Honey, would you like to grab a drink at our favorite bar?

Gentleman: Uh, no, not really.

Lady: Oh okay.

Later that night…

Lady: We never do what I want to do.

Gentleman: What are you talking about?!

Lady: I wanted to stop by the bar for a drink after dinner and since you didn’t want to, we didn’t.

Gentleman: Wait, what? You never told me that!

And scene.

As I type out this dialogue, I cringe. I cannot even count how many times I’ve had a version of this headache. Who is at fault here? I think neither party is intentionally guilty. The lady really does feel like what she wants isn’t considered and the guy really had no clue she wanted to go to the bar.

When I think about a conversation like this, the answer seems obvious to me, the guy should have asked her if she wanted to go to the bar. Duh. Then she would have the opportunity to say yes, and then they could have a conversation about whether to go to the bar or not.

If I had Boyface review this conversation, the answer would be obvious to him, the lady should have told the man that she wanted to go to the bar. Duh. Then they could evaluate whether to go or not. Why wouldn’t she just volunteer the information, why should he be expected to dig for it.

The reality is that he shouldn’t. I presume if I ask him what he wants to do that he should reciprocate and ask me what I want to do. Then I have to remember he’s not a psychic and not to get upset if he doesn’t do something he didn’t know I wanted him to do. Sounds a little crazy when I put it like that, huh?

I’m learning to ask. I operate under the presumption he does care what I think but can’t care about what I think unless he knows it. Sounds absolutely nuts but it’s working out. Just try it, next time there’s something you want to do and you want someone to prompt you to ask for it, just ask for it. Be gracious, be polite, but for the love of goodness just come out with it!

Then, hopefully the conversation can go like this:

Context: Couple is driving home from a nice dinner out.

Lady: Honey, would you like to grab a drink at our favorite bar?

Gentleman: Uh, no, not really.

Lady: Oh, well I would like to stop in for a bourbon and cider.

Gentleman: Really? Okay, just for one.

Later that night…

Lady: Thanks for stopping for a drink with me.

Gentleman: Of course, I’m glad you suggested it.

Lady: Me too.

Do you have trouble asking for things? Do you ever expect your loved ones to be psychic or vice-versa? 

p.s. I’ll make my big announcement on Monday! But for goodness sake, I’m not engaged!!

Great Lakes Theater: Blithe.

One of my favorite parts about “ending up” in Cleveland is our theater district. At first I thought it just seemed like it was everywhere because my first roommate in Lakewood was involved in theater throughout the city. Good news, it wasn’t just her. With Playhouse Square, The Cleveland Public Theater, The Cleveland Playhouse, and Great Lakes Theater we will never go culturally bankrupt.

This Friday (tomorrow!) I will be going to see Blithe and take advantage of some sinfully delightful pre-show fun. Before the show I will be doing this:

Master the art of making the perfect cocktail with
an expert mixologist and learn everything you ever
wanted to know about navigating a modern cocktail
party from professional etiquette consultant from the
Cleveland School of Etiquette, Colleen Harding.

I love everything mentioned above. I love learning etiquette and I adore drinking. I’ve already mastered making my favorite martini (blackberry with Hendrick’s), but hopefully I’ll learn a new trick or two for the next time I hostess. Following our educational endeavor will be Blithe, a comedic play I’m very excited to see. It involves a writer, a psychic, his second wife, and the ghost of his first one. That might be a recipe as delicious and devious as the ones we’ll learn before the show!

If you’d like to join me, which you absolutely should, click here for the information!

p.s. I don’t mean to be a tease, but I’m going to have something very exciting to share soon!

**As a blogger-person admission to the pre-show fun and the show are free.**

Career: The most valuable 4 questions.

Is it Wednesday already or only Wednesday? I’m having trouble deciding. Let’s go with Wednesday already.

Recently, I received a Women in Leadership Certificate from Case after taking a series of courses ranging from communication to negotiation. One course has a panel session I will never forget. Each woman had experienced difficult situations ranging from companies going under, to being the first female to earn partner at a law firm back in the day. They were my definition of courage.

One woman, when asked how she handled her company going scandalously out of business said, “you just step back and ask yourself, what pieces do I have left and how do I put them back together and do something with them?” I’m sure she was dismayed, I’m sure she had an “oh shit” moment but I’m also sure she never lost her sense of self.

She resonated with me. She attended school in New York and before she even said it, I knew she had been a cheerleader. Her poise and projection said it all. After the presentation I wanted to shake her hand and say thank you for her story. One other girl and I became her captive audience as she shared with us some of the best advice I’ve ever received. She reviewed the questions she asks herself to make sure she’s where she ought to be:

1. Am I learning something?
2. Do I make a difference?
3. Do I share the same values as this organization?
4. Am I having fun?

She noted that she can usually tell the answer to the fourth question by the time she reviews the first few. I love this because no matter where you are the answer may not be yes to all four of the questions all the time. As long as it’s most of them, most of the time, you’re all right. Our jobs may be challenging at times, or all the the times, but it’s worth it to me if I’m learning and making a difference. It’s okay to have a tough meeting if your colleagues know exactly what to say to make you laugh. Tough people are easier to work with if you can hold the perspective of them being a faulty cog in an otherwise well-meaning machine.

What do you think of these questions? How do you know if you’re on the right path?

p.s. I have something exciting to share coming up.

My Encounter with Hot Yoga.

Some weekends are meant for laundry and sleep. Such was this one. I also had class on a Saturday- this should be banned. It wasn’t all that bad though. My professor is very reminiscent of Jay Pritchett from Modern Family. The similarities in their speech patterns and nuances is almost scary. I suppose there’s a whole generation of Jay Pritchetts though and that’s why Modern Family is a comedic genius.

So my weekend was laundry, sleep, and school.

And yoga. Hot yoga. Not like, I looked hot doing this yoga, but warm, really temperature hot yoga. I actually looked disgusting doing it because I was so sweaty. So it was a good thing I brought the one person who I want to see me as attractive (fail.)

Prana Bodhi just opened in Lakewood and for their grand opening offered an open house and free classes. I stopped by the open house on Saturday and was pleasantly surprised by how physically close to home the studio is, the cheerful color palette, and the delicious food provided. The best part of all was being able to see some of my favorite people. Chatting with Nidhi, Crystal, Sarah, and Julie makes me so happy, it’s the feeling you get from surrounding yourself with positive people that want the best for you. It was a huge break of sunshine in my life. Julie is killing it for social media promotion- she should run for mayor, as the owner of Prana says. They had all been in class and were absolutely glowing. Everyone said they wanted to nap but I wouldn’t really understand this statement until the following morning, after I had taken a class…

I’ll admit, I’ve been on a leave of absence from working out. It could be the lack of time, or stress, but regardless, I’ve just been making excuses for the past two, three, maybe even four weeks? It’s too painful to count. On Sunday morning I even tried to get out of it, “but it’s so snowy” I told Boyface. “Nope,” he said, “just windy out and it’s so close.” Dang, I thought, push has come to shove. 90 minutes of hot, bikram-style yoga, here I come.

We attended the 8 a.m. class. It was very intimate. Just me, my partner-in-crime, and one of my favorite bloggers to read that I hadn’t met in real life yet! We moved through the class, doing each position twice, it was amazing to feel the improvement in just two times. I can how this becomes addicted. It’s not easy though, when she said something along the lines of, “Okay, that was just our warm-up” I thought, holy moly. About halfway through the class I felt faint. I’m a notoriously bad water drinker and I started to see the stars and spots. I took a knee for a couple reps, took a sip of water and was fine throughout the remainder. When we left and walked out into the frigid air it felt refreshing for the first time this winter. I can’t wait to go back!

We kind of looked like this!

I am sore today, but it’s the good kind of sore. I forgot how working out makes me feel, even if I don’t think it helps me lose weight. I might even work out tonight- but if I don’t get my marketing done first I’m in a lot of trouble!

How was your weekend? Have you ever tried hot yoga, did you like it?

 

Happy Valentine’s Day: Where love begins.

Each story of love begins somewhere. Some of my favorite love stories begin with some pretty far-fetched meet-cutes. In Closer, Alice meets Dan when he helps her after seeing her get hit by a taxi. In Love Actually, the Prime Minister goes door to door to find the secretary he secretly admired. In American Beauty, Jane falls for her conveniently located neighbor. As crazy as it might seem, I think I thought love was supposed to be immediate. There would be some strange coincidence that would bring me and Mr. Right together and we would live happily ever after.

Knowing this, you might understand why I felt as surprised to find love in friendship as a girl might feel if she found love by tripping on the sidewalk and falling into a handsome stranger’s arms. Sure, in movies you see the friends to romance, but I think I always saw myself as the girl too messed up for love, the Clementine, the 500 Days of Summer.

Nick and I would typically meet up for happy hours. I remember countless early evenings at Pier W and Eddy & Iggy’s. We talked work, we talked Cleveland, sports, family, anything really. We played on the same sand volleyball team. When did *it* start? I try to look back and think of the exact moment I started to like-like him. I just can’t pin it down. I do remember the moment I realized it though. We were meeting up for happy hour one hot afternoon and I was stopping at home to lose the work clothes and put on something more comfortable. I changed my outfit three times before I asked myself, why am I trying to look cute? Then, it hit me. I want him to think I look cute.

What was happening? I had a little mini panic attack because of the circumstances surrounding us and then got over it. I had a crush on my best guy friend. I thought there might be a chance he could like me-like me too, and the idea was exciting. He was without question my partner in crime and my better half, but were we romantically compatible? The answer (obviously) was yes.

And then we lived happily ever after…

Haha, I’m just kidding. Well, kind of. We are still living and we are happy. I’ve never had so much fun with someone else. He understands my crazy, isn’t afraid to try adventurous foods, and has the most capturing old soul I’ve ever met.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

My Pompous Autocorrect and Other Worries.

I am un-apologetically back. Writing is a love of mine that I have gone without for too long. How often do we get caught up in thinking if we can’t do something “fully” in our minds, we don’t do it at all. I have felt this way about working out and writing the past few weeks. I’ve been hard on myself. You have to (re)start somewhere.

How I feel in the winter is hard to explain. The functioning depression is like a blanket but not in any sense of comfort. Hyperbole and a Half has the most amazing cartoon on depression. In a way I’ve never been able to really define what listlessness is, what the variations are, I look at that cartoon and I think…yep, that’s it, that’s exactly it.

My friend Megan, at It’s My Time to Sparkle and Shine, posted “Anxiety and Depression.” I read through it and thought, yep, that’s how I feel right now. Then I thought, I should reach out to her, and then I didn’t because I was being selfish. I finally sent her a message so we’ll see. I have finally learned (I think) you can’t care about anymore more than they care about themselves. How quickly we forget it works the other way too. It’s hard to feel the world’s love if you don’t love yourself first.

The good news is, I finally feel like I’m breathing above water again. When my alarm goes off, I get up because I want to. I don’t feel like I could probably lay there for ever but get up anyways because that’s how I was raised.

Then, I get this feeling. Just like Hyperbole and a Half draws.

So, to completely change direction of this conversation, I want to discuss something very, very serious.

My autocorrect is a snob.

I feel like this is my fault. I have insisted on it using apostrophes, capitalization, and yes, even the occasional semi-colon. It is now completely out of control. Instead of fixing tiny mistakes my phone inserts lengthy pretentious words.
If I mistype “the” and type “rhe”, “rhetorically” is automatically inserted. ex. “Rhetorically pizza is delicious.
“Os” instead if “is” becomes “ostensibly.” ex. “She ostensibly crazy.”
“Majes” instead of “makes” turns into “majesty.” ex. “He majesty me so happy.”

With these errant autocorrects, it was only a matter of time before something truly tragic and/or hysterical happened….
I wasn’t sure if my girlfriend was at work one day or not so I intended to text her, “Are you here today?” I was confused by her response of, “everyday…did you mean to ask me that?” At which point I scrolled up to review what I had asked, here’s how the conversation actually went:

Me: Are you heterosexual today?
Her: Everyday…

Is your autocorrect pretentious too? Do you ever give up because you can’t do something fully? How do you get back on the wagon?