The struggle between palate and waistline

My job is a foodie's dream. I literally spend all day driving around, hanging out with different restaurant people. It's not unusual to be treated to lavish lunches by my clients or boss. When I'm off work, there are many cases of getting together with other food and wine people and going to town, really enjoying everything that this small city's eclectic restaurant scene has to offer.

It truly is amazing. A dream come true. What I was made to do.

However, my waistline seems to disagree.

It's been just over a month, and my clothes are already significantly more snug. It's awfully disappointing to be hitting your career stride and realizing that your late-20's body just can't keep up with all of your gastronomical endeavors. Clearly some rules will have to be made.

1. Obviously, workouts will be kicked up a notch.

2. When with others, I will indulge. When grabbing a quick lunch or dinner by myself, it will be modest and healthy.

3. No more keeping my freezer stocked with Edy's Drumstick Flavor.

4. (How do I say this one without sounding like an alcoholic?) When home for the evening, no more than one glass of wine - no matter how delicious my samples were that day.

And this weekend, I'm on detox. Instead of going out, I will be semi-hibernating, working on writing, not spending money, and eating healthily.

Good plan. I look forward to my clothes fitting like they used to.

Southern cats

When I first started my job, I was relieved to meet the wine orderer at one of my biggest accounts, Peggy. She was a very sweet, motherly woman, and after we hit it off immediately I began looking forward to our Monday morning meetings, figuring we would chat pleasantly about the leisurley lives we both surely led before getting down to the business of putting in an order for lots and lots of wine.

And this is pretty much how it's gone so far. Until this week I learned of something that was amiss...
"Nope, we've gotten nothing but positive feedback about you," my boss assured me, "well... (snicker snicker) except for Peggy, but it's really nothing."

"What, what?!?!" I alarmed, my defensiveness quickly perked up. What could my psuedo-mother possibly have to say about me?

"Well, she called the office and suggested that you not wear such low-cut shirts. And flip-flops," he said dismissively.

"WHAT????!!!" I practically screeched. "I do not wear low cut shirts!!!"

(Picture of Rees, taken last weekend.)

















"And when have you ever seen me in flip flops?"

(Picture of Rees' closet. Can you tell that those are all flip flops?)















"Rees, don't get all worked up about it," my boss assured me. "If we had thought anything of it I would have said something to you earlier. It's just old Southern women competition."

"Humph. That old biddy is just jealous."

"That's exactly what we said. And the important thing is, Tom and Jason have started buying a ton of wine from you. Which is probably why she got catty in the first place."

Lesson learned. Even if someone seeme sweet as pie, don't let your guard down, even for a second. You never know who will turn catty.

What travel does to me

It's debatable whether or not my jaunt up to DC last weekend could technically be considered "travel", but nevertheless it elicited the same reactions and feelings that travelling always does to me.

Upon departure, I always feel a huge surge of... everything. My skin tingles with excitement, and the wave of adventure and independence is like the best high in the world. I am always so proud of myself for taking the initiative to break my everyday pattern and venture out for a series of new experiences that I just want to burst. The anticipation is half of the fun, and I find that I truly am satisfied with life, because I live in a place where the rent for my cozy little apartment is cheap, the friends are good, the family is close, and the means to travel are readily available, via my road trip ready car, adventurous spirit, and extra funds (thanks to the new job).

When at my destination, the adventurous spirit and high-on-life attitude continues. Let's try everything! Let's meet everyone! It's so great to see you! I love this city!, etc. Then somewhere mid-trip, the feelings start to evolve into - Um, I want to live here. (No matter where "here" is.) I wish I got to spend more time with (insert name of whoever I'm with.) That's it, I'm not living in (insert wherever I'm living at the time) for all that much longer - there's a huge world out here!

Then I return home, my mind racing with plans. Other trips to take, how long to stay in my current locale, a 5 and 10 year plan that will allow me to live everywhere and do everything that I've always wanted to do. But a nagging confusion always sets in, because there are other things I've always wanted to do too that the constant moving and sky-rocketing careers might impede. Like buy a house. Gulp, have a family.

And I get back to my current life and realize that it's pretty darn good. Job, friends, medium-sized city with affordable rents that let you have a pretty substantial travel budget - doesn't sound so bad, right? Then there's him. The guy I've known for years, who I get along with famously. And who looks more handsome every time we hang out. And who makes me laugh. But would allowing myself to get into a relationship completely squelch any other dreams and ambitions that I have?

Do having an adventurous spirit and commitment phobic problems always go hand in hand? Don't answer that, anyone. I don't want to know the answer, because the truth is, I'm really happy just the way I am. Weekend trips and big goals included.

Things I can't stop thinking about after my weekend in DC

1. The Mushroom, Manchego and Almond Croquettes that were my appetizer here.

2. How great it was to see my old roommate, and how much I miss him.

3. How beautiful of a city DC really is.

4. How two of my friends were talking about wanting to get their own places, when lately I've been thinking about how fun it would be to have a roommate to play with - only when I want them there, of course. The other times they would need to disappear.

5. My appointments tomorrow.

Rees writes elsewhere

First column appeared today on Richmond.com - everyone check it out!

By the way, I am NOT responsible for the name.

Rees writes elsewhere

First column appeared today on Richmond.com - everyone check it out!

By the way, I am NOT responsible for the name.

Don't you hate it when...

you're standing in line at Starbuck's and you see someone you recognize so your brain triggers your mouth to break into your customary "Oh, hi! Good to see you!" smile and your arm muscles start to contract into a slight wave as your eyes search out the mutual contact and THEN you realize - "Oh, shit! I actually don't like that person! I don't want to talk to them. Abort, abort!" - so you quickly drop the smile and the arm and you have to completely switch focus and concentrate instead on hiding behind the person waiting in front of you???

Yeah, I hate it too.

No time to blog makes Rees a sad girl

So lately I've had tons of great ideas for blog posts. TONS. I swear.

Like the customer of mine who acts like he hates me, but keeps buying everything I bring him to taste.

Or the one other sales rep that I've met who was kinda competitive and jerky, and how after all of that the client that we were both waiting to see ignored him and only talked to me.

Or how this past weekend spent at the Outer Banks left me constantly flooded with memories of all of the summers that we vacationed there when I was a kid.

But I haven't been able to write about any of these things! First it was too hot in my apartment to do anything but sleep when I was here. Now I'm too ridiculously busy with the new (amazing) job, the pending wine column with these guys, and being in charge of beverages for a 500 person black tie event in November to even think of organizing thoughts into a halfway decent post.

Please keep checking back, because I swear I'll start writing more soon!