dropping the bomb

So since I *finally* got up the nerve to talk to my boss this afternoon, I can *finally* elaborate on the cryptic messages posted here and here and the hint posted here... The hubs, the pooch and I are leaving Lawn Guyland and moving back to New Jersey. (first post) I am walking into a great working situation with an attorney from my old Morristown firm. (second post) I have found a house for sale that I am totally in love with. (hint) There is some difference of opinion going on in my house right now over *the house*, so the living arrangement part's not firmed up yet. As it stands right now though, I will be back in NJ by the end of the year. Look out New Jersey...........I'm coming home!!

E. Lec. Tric. Youth.

or "how I came to stalk a child of the 80s"

That title looks like one of those obnoxious myspace profiles, screen names, etc., where kids these days intersperse caps and lowercase. That was not my intention. But those of you in the know will realize that when you say it with the appropriate pauses, you channel "is she Debbie or is she Deborah this week" Gibson, on the title track of her second album (and also the name of her perfume, which I swear I still have a bottle of somewhere in my father's attic). I'm already digressing...

I work in a five story office building that houses varied professional offices in addition to a bank and all its various departments. Typically, everyone who works in the building (with the exception of the dental offce), comes in dressed in some form of business attire. That is except for 80s girl.

I have yet to determine where she works, or even what floor, because we never seem to be traveling in the elevator at the same time. And I don't see her every day. But when I do, you can be damn sure that I remember. I wish I could figure out how to get pictures of her without outing myself as a stalker.

After living here for almost three years, I have come to discover (and perhaps G can attest to this) that the 80s never really died on Long Island. While the 80s influence isn't in everything you see, you get so accepting of it that you're not even surprised anymore when you see someone who looks like they stepped right out of 1986. Though I have to admit that I did register some shock and outright laughter when I saw one of the attorneys in my office wearing a Members Only jacket last week. I haven't seen one of those on someone under the age of 65 since they were in style.

Anyway, the first time I saw 80s girl, she was wearing a black and white ensemble. Black flats. Black leggings that stopped a few inches above the ankle. Short black cotton skirt, one that is fitted at the waist, but the skirt part poufs out like there is a crinoline or petticoat under it. Some sort of white tank top/t-shirt. Black bolero jacket. HUGE white pleather purse with chains and studs. Huge doesn't even cover the purse. I could have parked my Saturn inside her purse. I swear I sat next to her clone at a New Kids concert. Yes, I was one of those people, let's move on, shall we?

The latest outfit I caught her in was last week's ensemble. An ode to Flashdance off the shoulder sweater with various garment straps poking out of the top. Denim capris/shorts that stopped at the knee with two inch cuffs. Not to be outdone, the outfit was completed with knee-high leather stiletto boots.

And have I mentioned the pouf of hair? Okay, do you remember the movie Sixteen Candles? I'm sure most of you do. Remember the girl who played Molly Ringwald's best friend?

Yeah, that's the hairstyle she is rockin'. I am really going to try to figure out a way to get pictures of this in action. I promise. I guess for now you will just have to be satisfied with my visuals!

word to the Eat Pray Love-rs out there

Oprah is doing her show today on EPL...she has Elizabeth Gilbert, and for those in the know, Richard from Texas will be there, too. As much as I love the book, Richard's gonna be a big reason that I watch. If you read this after Oprah has aired by you, I'm pretty sure you can see the episode on her website.

For those who aren't in the know, this is EPL.

I got the book because one of my internet friends (what up HeidiBee) mentioned it. Now as much of a reader as I am, I don't read a lot of non-fiction, or books that could be considered self-help. Not saying anything about either type of book, its just the way I roll. That being said, EPL is such a good book. It is a book that I keep having to put down and walk away from, not because it doesn't hold my interest, but because I am so in love with this book that I don't want it to end. I am kicking myself that I did not begin to read this with a highlighter at the ready, because there are so many little nuggets that I want to remember and keep with me. I have caught myself more than a few times thinking that maybe I'll start it over with that highlighter before I even finish my first read-through. If nothing else, that would definitely prolong the process.

This book is about Elizabeth Gilbert's journey. Looking for some meaning and direction after a failed marriage and some Grown-Up decisions, she decides to spend chunks of time (yes, chunks are a real measure!) in three different places, Italy, India and Indonesia. Okay, I went back to the Amazon page and looked it up - she does this over the span of a year. These little details become irrelevant. Anyway, its not that her nuggets are saying things that we haven't or heard or thought before. Maybe I'm just reading it at a time where I'm more open to these little lightbulbs, but there are a lot of things in this book that I read, and then re-read and think "duh", duh to me, not duh to EG, because I'm getting hit with these striking bits of clarity, that seem so simple, yet feel very profound (there is a paragraph on page 93 about what EG refers to as phantom babies that completely clicked with me).

One of these striking bits that comes courtesy of the aforementioned Richard is quoted in the Oprah blurbs. And it hit me this morning like a 2x4 between the eyes. It could not resonate with me more, could not show itself at a better time. "You've got to stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone ought to be." I've been spending a lot of time wishing lately. Its time for me to stop wishing, for my backbone to come out of hiding, and just make it happen.