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No More Mr. Eloquent

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what goes on in Vegas. . . .

After 5 days in Vegas with 8000 hairdressers, The Mix, 5 nights of heavy drinking, tequila shots, Natasha Beddingfield, Redken Platform Artists, Fremont Street, Japonais, The Fashion Show Mall, serious shopping (much better than in the minne city), all of my co-workers, a lil Gossip, room service, table service, runway shows, beautiful hair, a few good workouts at Spa Mandalay, a lack of privacy, and a lost cell phone, it is tough to step back in to the redundance of my little life in Minnesota.

My mailbox is overstuffed, the bills are unpaid, the money in my bank account in untouched, my clothing is unpacked, laundry is undone, and the pooch finally came home.

I am forced to face my move to Chicago. To face the people that are unsatisified with my decision. My boss is not happy, my co-workers are not happy, they would all love for me to stay in Minneapolis. Me moving to Chicago complicates their lives. They will be forced to find someone to replace me - which (all jokes aside) will not be an easy thing to do.

I want to be happy. I want to feel excitement. Instead, I am often reminded of the disappointment I am causing others to feel. I am letting my team & my friends down.

Since mymove to Minneapolis almost 2 years ago, my friends in Chicago have been sitting on the edges of their seats awaiting my come back.

You win some, you lose some.

I watched 2 people cry this weekend, in anticipation of my departure from the Twin Cities.
On the flip side, I watched people celebrate with excitement due to my relocation back to the Chicago market.

This is not going to be an easy year for me.

I opened my e-mail to find this:

Hi Crista,
It was so nice to spend a little time with you at Symposium- Im as sooooooooooooooo excited to bring you on board in Chicago . Please keep in touch with me and let me know how I can help you with any transition. Im looking forward to working with you and I just know you are going to be amazing for us in Chi town. If you ever want to spend some time with me in the field, please let me know.

However I can help you – Im there for you.

Crista Takes On The Minne City

Shopping

No doubt, I am an avid consumer of material goods.

The Mall Of America (MOA):

• is the second largest enclosed mall in terms of retail space but is largest in terms of total enclosed floor area
• has a gross area of 4.2 million sq ft., with 2.5 million sq ft. available as retail space
• over 520 stores are arranged along three levels of pedestrian walkways on the sides of the rectangle, with a fourth level on one side
• opened in 1992, the mall received 40 million visitors in 2006

All that being said, you would think that one would be beside themselves to reside downtown Minneapolis, within 10 miles of this absurdly gigantic shopping center.

In view of the Redken Symposium happening this weekend, and a lack of spare time, I found it necessary to take a quick shopping trip to the MOA* – in search of a few swank & voguish pieces/accessories to wear.

After all, RS09 is THE place to be noticed, being that there will be 10,000** hairdressers in attendance. I am unwilling to show up unrehearsed and ill-considered, providing a perception of the mid-western Minnesota girl that is flourishing within me.

*Options for shopping in the Twin Cities:

• Mall Of America - the LARGEST selection of shopping
• downtown Minneapolis -which includes Macy’s, Off Saks, and Banana Republic
• the Premium Outlet Mall in Albertville -Puma, Banana Republic, BCBG, K. Cole
• Southdale/Edina that provides the option of Len Druskin.
• TJ Maxx
• OR Buffalo Exchange (the Minneapolis edition)

Plenty of money in hand (OK, daddy’s credit card that I am responsible for paying), I was ready to purchase any and every voguish item that caught my eye.

After hitting Bloomingdales, Nordstrom Rack, H&M, AND Forever 21 – using ALL of my resources @ MOA- I walked out of the mall empty-handed, forced to head back home to my closet full of yesterdays clothing.

(There was NO DOUBT at the very least, I would find a few disposable, on-trend items at Forever 21. WTF )

I went ahead and packed every piece of yesterdays clothing I own, and will make do.

**give or take a few thousand – we’re in a recession.

gone home

Fort Wayne. "Home." not 'home' to me, rather 'home' to my family.
nothing fancy about this place... besides my mothers car and the piano player at Von Maur.

i grew up here. from the age of 6 to the age of 21.

everyone moves so slow. nothing changes. everything stays the same. upon entering the Fort, i am perceived as the same person i was 5-10-15 years ago. a flawed teenager. that could not smoke a cigarette, dropped out of high school for a month, and dated all of the wrong guys. i will also always and forever be labeled as bric's ex-girlfriend.

i see the same people, shopping the same stores, at the same mall- all of the people slightly pudgier than in the past. i take a double glances as if trying to remember what interaction (if any) i had with these familiar-looking people.

i shop with my mother -giving her the opportunity to show off the daughter that she seems so proud of, that she is proud to have be-friended. she trots me in the bank, the nail shop, the coffee shop - these places that she visits frequently. she takes the opportunity to introduce me to the bank teller, the barista, the manicurist, the chinese lady. she receives plenty of compliments - she thrives off compliments.

i am reminded of the distance between my mother and i when her husband refuses to show his face the entire 36 hours i visit their home. he keeps himself locked in the bedroom. my mother takes him a plate full of food... and returns with an empty plate.

pops. he's a good guy. a man of honesty. messy, yet systematic. he appreciates the simpler things in life. he provides highly intellectual conversation during road trips to grandpa's place. content included: Colorado Snow Tire Chains Laws, Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar, ”Santa Baby” by Taylor Swift, Sunflowers grown in Colorado, The rice production in Sacramento, & ”a 40 Caliber Glock.

both of my parents homes are still filled with gifts that i have given them in prior years: elephant candles, picture frames, angel ornaments, george foreman grills, and spoon rests. both of their refrigerators are still filled with diet cokes. pops still keeps 24 packs of sams choice water from wal-mart... for me.

Fort Wayne is a dark place, one that i do not associate with positive happenings. the young boys carry guns and weapons... while at work... while at the club... while holding their babies. my brother, being one of these boys has become a product of his environment. he is impossible, stubborn, a heavily-opinionated jesus-worshiping republican.

On Sunday, I will leave Fort Wayne via the "Fort Wayne International Airport." And I will not be back for another year.

there is no place like home... right?

you had me at 'hello'

I have dated many different types of guys throughout my 26 years of life. ('Dating' being a word used very loosely.)

-Seriously... Jaguar Drivers, truck washers, former exotic dancers, home owners, fathers, republicans, co-op shoppers, ice cream eaters, BMX riders, city slickers, salesmen (the worst!!), small town boys... you get the point.



My mind was stirred after reading a post written by one of my favorite bloggers, titled "What's your type, baby?." While reading the post, I realized that we all have our own standard of person we are willing to date. Do we always follow that standard to ensure that our Better Half falls within the guideline of our "type"? I had to think long and hard about "my type" of guy. But here it goes.....


He's Heavily Opinionated (im not saying judgemental) yet Open-Minded. He's Intuitive and Ambitious. He's Independent and enjoys living alone. He is a Man Of His Word and does what he says he's going to do. He's Humorous in a dry smirkish kind of way. He's Moderately Stubborn, and Cautious (non-committal?!?) He's Non-Materialistic and does not own an Xbox or Wii. He is Clean and Tidy - but no perfectionist. He throws away holey underwear and socks. He enjoys being home and can entertain himself in the absence of a television. He is passionate but doesn't have an overwhelming desire for intimacy.

I have realized that an amazing personality is much more attractive than a pretty face (although he MUST have an amazing smile - and smile often). I would much prefer to hang with someone that will stimulate my intellect through topics such as:

• Nutrition: I am veg ...therefore he MUST be veg... and healthy. We need to be able to share meals during an occasional restaurant visit. and let's face it, I will not allow dead rotting flesh in my kitchen.


• Culture: He would come well-equipped with a natural concern in matters such as the arts, manners, religion, music, worldly news, and conciousness of this earth.


• Music: An eclectic taste in music is crucial. I would expect him to introduce me to music I had never heard. No gangster rap, bubble gum pop music, or head banging obnoxiousness on my guy's IPOD.


• Travel: No second date for the guy that has not travelled out of his home state. No First date for the guy unwilling to travel outside of his home state.

Although looks are not of high importance when it comes to choosing my Potential Better Half, An amazing ass (especially in jeans) is a Bonus - borderline crucial. (i'm just sayin..)

He may be spotted wearing Sport Coats & Pumas. Straight leg pants or Diesel Jeans - accessorized by a fancy belt. A cashemere sweater, or a v-neck t-shirt smothered in the scent of a man. My man. He dresses simply and let's his personality do the talking.

*Immediate action given to the man hiding tightie whities and a wife beater underneathe his outer layer of clothing. (Wanna come over tonight??)

His style would be subtle, but unique.

Perfection would entail bottling all of this up and transforming him in to the form of creme brulee.

Although, I would claim to be willing to overlook this criteria for the man that has an excessive amount of dough $$ in his bank account, BUT I am not swooned by offers of cash advancements and expensive material goods. I am simply turned off by the exterior vulnerability and the willingness to exchange "love" for $$.


kiss my wounds

love me tender

buy me flowers i've never seen

wake me up from my dreams

to bring me french toast and tea

in the morning light

fly across country to spend

the night

you said you'd steer a boat across the atlantic

cuz you're so f*ck'n romantic

i can't stand it

when i look in your eyes

unconditionalness sweetness uncompromised

you set the standard for many things

i wasn't sure what it would bring

you're so f*ck'n romantic

other men wouldn't call

just to say "i love you"

take your time

but i miss you

is it okay

if i see you

i'll kiss you everywhere anywhere

damn sure, me

please let this moment be

you're always tempting me

cuz you're so f*ck'n romantic

we say the same words

at the same time

i start a sentence

you finish mine

laugh at my jokes when i wanna cry

and when i feel lost

i look in your eyes

even in front of your boys

you wouldn't lie

you say"i gotta see my baby tonight"

cuz you're so f*ck'n romantic

kiss me 'til i'm frantic
-goapele-

PS. Did I mention that I will only settle for a domesticated man? One that cooks, cleans, does dishes, AND laundry?

i'm just sayin'

xox

everything you say can & will be used against you.

Very early in my career, I learned that everything you say will eventually be repeated - and you must be 100% comfortable with every word that leaves your mouth. If you choose to talk negatively about someone behind their back, eventually that person will get word of what you have said.

Everything you say can and will be used against you.

I can remember the exact moment that I realized ALL of the gossip I was spreading, all of the rumors, and hate messages I was throwing around WAS being repeated - repeated back to the people I was gossiping about!

(Why, for so long, did I think the rumors I was spreading would stay only with the one person I told them to??)

Travel Back In Time about 6 years:

Waaaaaay back in the day ;) I was working at a salon in Indiana. The salon was busy, I worked with my friends, and knew most of the guests that entered the salon. I viewed most of my guests as friends, not just paying clients.

One of my guests (we will leave her name out of the blog for obvious reasons,) would come to the salon every 4-6 weeks faitfully for a cut & color. She brought her 13 year old daughter to the salon for cuts & color as well. They became good $$ customers of mine.

I remember before I knew her well, SHE would always make comments about working at night and being exhausted during day time hours. Eventually she pushed me to ask a simple question: "Oh, you work at night? What do you do?"

She was a stripper. A 44 year old stripper with a 13 year old daughter. And a dramatic love life. Oh, and flourescent green fingernails. A stripper that thought I was pretty which probably meant I had a good looking father. She wanted to know more about my dad.

Whoa. (i know!) A stripper step-mom?!?!?!

Each time she was in the salon, she would ask to see pictures of my dad. Each time she was in the salon I would tell her "Maybe next time." Of course this was always mixed among her stories of lost love, broken hearts, rich guys, boyfriend #1, and boyfriend #2. I could never focus on her stories of broken romance, instead my mind would race a hundred miles a minute - wondering if her 13 year old daughter watched her walk out of the house at night in fishnet stockings, lacy thongs, and stripper shoes!! AND I wondered what her daughter thought of those loooong green fingernails... and the playboy bunny imprinted on her thigh, and the fake tan! AND I could just not visualize thhose 44 year old saggy boobs jiggling around in anyone's face... for $$$!!

Nothing against strippers. I'm just sayin. That's where my mind went - it was completely riduculous and out of control.

This whole situation blew my mind (obviously!!) soooo I talked about it. I told my co-workers of the stripper with dreams of being my step mother. I told my friends, and I told salon clients of mine.

In fact, I can remember the day (very vividly) that 2 of my favorite clients/friends were in the salon shopping for some shampoo. They stopped me to chat... asked about life, updated me on their life... asked about my dad... (gasp) I had a GREAT story to tell them!!

I told these girls everything about HER. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. In the middle of the shampoo aisle in the salon.

We said our good-byes, deciding we would all see each other soon. I walk away. Turn the aisle. And come face-to-face with HER. The stripper. In the next aisle. I knew instantly that SHE had heard everything. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.

Instantly, I was nauseated. And looking for a story. Justification. Lies. EEK!~

SHE mentioned that she was in the salon just shopping for shampoo, and... that she had heard everything. Of course, she knew I was talking about HER. With lines like: "Like, Who wants a stripper for a mom" and "Isn't she too old to be a stripper anyway - plus she has a 13 year old" There was no doubt SHE was the person I was referring to.


Not sure how I got myself out of that situation, it's all a blur. I'm pretty sure she never came to see me in the salon again.


And, I'm pretty sure I have watched what comes out my mouth from that day forward.






Back to the present:


Unfortunately, gossip happens quite frequently in the beauty business. I happen to be employed in the beauty business. For various reasons, lately, I have been at the butt end of other peoples gossip. In fact, 3 different people, from 3 different sides of my work life have been heard talking smack about me. Interesting enough, that all 3 of them don't know me very well at all.


My plan of action is to not retaliate although, eventually, I may (discreetly) let them in on the fact that I know what they have said. Of course, I would allow them to know everything I know. I would allow their minds to always wonder exactly what it is that I do know.


Typically, I am not one to draw attention and drama, but lately I have been in the spotlight. What must the girl do to remove herself from the attention of others?

"...When you are seemingly diminished in some way and remain in absolute nonreaction, not just externally but also internally, you realize that nothing real has been diminished, that through becoming "less," you become more...." - Eckhart Tolle

"ZIP UP YOUR PURSE!!"

Last night, we ventured out to Edina for the Ultimate Suburban Experience: Trader Joe's (grocery shopping), Panera Bread (soup, sandwich & green tea), The Gap (argyle socks & the original khaki), AND the Landmark Theater (Now Playing: The Secret Life Of Bees).

Oddly enough, it was a great way to spend a Friday night.

As we were sitting at Panaera Bread we made a mutual decision: We needed to purchase a few bottles of water to smuggle in to the movie theater. This is especially crucial because much of our movie theater experience evolves around artificially flavored popcorn (artificial flavors include White Cheddar, Jalapeno, and the occasional Parmesan & Garlic)

After Dinner we went straight to the mall (The Gap.) As we were exiting the mall, we found a vending machine full of Dasani water. I stuck 2 bottles of water in my purse.: Smuggling Plan completed.

We proceeded to the movie theater with a few moments to spare. As we walk from the parking garage to the theater, we notice that the bottle of water in my purse were highly visible. This made HIM nervous.

HE suggested that I zip up my purse, and I non-chalantly blew him off because I was not worried about anyone noticing. Even if someone were to notice, I felt that it was no big deal - that they wouldn't even pay attention to the water in my purse! I have smuggled plenty of food/drink items in to movie theaters over a period of 10-12 years.


HIM: "ZIP UP YOUR PURSE!"

ME: "It's not a big deal!"

HIM: "Crista, really, Zip It Up!"

ME: "I'll do it when I get inside."


As HE purchased our tickets, I did not bother to zip up my purse, as promised. As he purchased the popcorn, I STILL did not bother to zip up my purse. In fact, I boldly placed my purse on the concession counter flaunting the 2 bottles of water in my purse to the cashier.


HIM: (disgusted at my boldness) "GET.. WHAT.. THE.. PUT THAT DOWN!!"

ME: (foolish grin on face) "Sorry" wink wink


Although, the bottles of water were spotted in my purse, they were never questioned. The common rule at movie theaters: Outside food/drink is Prohibited, did not apply to me.

---------

AFTER MOVIE DISCUSSION:

Apparently my experience and HIS experience with movie-going has been slightly different. Me, being a white female, have always felt comfortable carrying food/drink items in to the theater and have never been asked not to do so. HE, being a man, has had the rules more strictly enforced.


This lack of consistency with the enforcement of rules extends beyond the movie theater. White females tend to be the least threatening members of society. There is a lack of fear they possess due to the continuous free passes they are handed. The small free passes may seem insignificant at times, but the resulting boldness/fearlessness/confidence that white females possess is profoundly different from the learned behavior of minority women and men to strictly follow the rules.

Although being a white female has it's advantages, there are certain arenas where being perceived as the least threatening member of society has it's disadvantages.

3 Words: Hillary Rodham Clinton

We want our US President to be strong, and confident, therefore any presidential candidate that has the additional baggage as being perceived as the least threatening member of society (white woman) has a huge obstacle to overcome. The one thing this alleged non-threatening candidate is prohibited from doing is to show signs of emotional weakness. Emotional weakness (crying) reinforces the sterotypical pereption of women.

Hillary Clinton cried as she began to lose momentum in the race against Obama. She showed vulnerability, frustration, and weakness. It was soon stated in NewsWeek that "anyone who needed to carry Kleenex in her purse was unfit for the highest office in the land."

In contrast, Sarah Palin has overcome this additional baggage of being perceived as the least threatening member of society by creating the image of being a Pit Bull in liptick. She is tougher than tough. Her boobs are made of stone. She has taken all of her feminine qualities and has used them to her advantage by flirtatiously manipulating men to gain an edge. She is a true feminist. BURN YOUR BRAS WOMEN! !

-------------
In closing, I will admit there is no END to this discussion or thought process. Please note that this is one person's perception. It was thought about, discussed, and then BLOGGED. Please feel free to add to the discussion.

*I thank HIM for:

A. Suggesting that I write this blog

B. For making his opinions/POV's available for this blog.

"They're called boobs, Ed."

Seriously, is this picture inappropriate to post on my webpage?

Why are people so threatened by this picture? I am COMPLETELY comfortable with it.

You can find nude pictures of ANY celebrity on the internet or on TV (please refer to Brittney's new video, Womanizer

and plus... this is FAR from NUDE.

Haters only love you when they're hating.

Feedback PLEASE.