27 February 2007

I miss me

I wore old sneakers to the gym tonight.

I had forgotten how worn they were with dried mud and dirt tucked into the crevices and coated in places on the fabric. Holes were worn at the heel area, ready to rub and collide with my skin and create blisters.

It didn't happen.

The sneakers have been with me a long time and were abandoned to the back of the closet for almost two years. I needed a switch from my already old "new" sneakers.

The shoes brought me back to all the color guard practices outdoors and how that mud may have been from then...although it's been longer than two years since I graduated. I thought to the high school track I visited during summers when I wanted to be outdoors, exercising and not in a claustrophobic gym with fans working overtime while I watched the sun beat down outdoors.

Tonight, sitting at the desk in our bedroom I notice my driver's license photo. When you get married, you get a new license with your new name, new signature, and yes, new photo, too. Because when you get married you look different. Now, didn't you know that? No, seriously. I look at the photo which was taken just before summer closed up shop. And I see my face and think to what it used to be. To now. Now it's aged. The jaw line is different. The eyes slightly reserved. No longer vulnerable and naive. It's a very different photo than the one I had taken my freshman year of college for my school ID.

I remember the walk all the way across campus the day I moved into my dorm freshman year. All the marching band kids got to move in early because we had been there a week already and it was easier that way. I lived in a triple which was lucky for a freshman to land. I had my own corner, leaving my other two roommates to divide a smaller space with bunk beds. But in turn they got the window.

I remember my parents visiting me each summer to see our show before classes begun, at the football games, whenever I attended away games close to Boston and therefore closer to home, and of course at homecoming. We'd dine out at favorite restaurants. Amherst was a second home. I miss it.

I guess I'm feeling a little sad, a little remote tonight. Wine plays no part in it. I've taken too much for granted, so much for granted. The photos will continue to change. There will be other sneakers. And there will be my kids to go visit at homecoming.

For now I miss being young. Today it may be an oxymoron. But tomorrow we all know that will change.

26 February 2007

One more thing...

I'm contemplating applying to attend a writer's conference this summer. The trouble is I feel like outside of the silly newsletter I write at work and this blog, that I haven't truly written. What sample will I submit? The application asks you to rate your genre--what?? I don't have one! There isn't any risk in my applying--you pay only if you get accepted--but still...I tried the law school thing--but writing? This is something I should be good at. I mean, isn't that what being an English major means? Ugh.


When I'm in the shower and getting ready for work, I like to think about what I will do after I come home at night. They'll be dinner to make of course and the gym to force myself to attend, and then there are the leftover errands/chores/things I wanted to get done over the weekend.

So tonight I hope to put away all the laundry Bub so nicely did for us, finish washing the tub, and vacuum each room before heading to the gym.

But something about the snow makes me think that I would be so much happier curled up wtih Bub, sipping some wine, and just hanging out.

We had a great weekend. The in-laws were in town and we had a big dinner together with my parents on Friday night. Saturday I attended my first kick boxing class in a long time. I actually felt like I could work out after the class, too, but decided there was a lot more to accomplish that day, so I went home. Later I felt the pain start. It was so bad that I had to take asprin before bed and was sore all through yesterday. I guess I overdid it!

We got some shopping and errands done, but there were no houses to see. Sigh.

I am on a mission for new sneakers and had fun shopping online at Sephora. I love that store. And it's nice to be all by yourself and overwhelmed as opposed to zig-zagging between store employees and other shoppers to look and smell and test.

I'm on a mission, too, for a headband and have been so for a while. I think I found one I want online. Anyone have any good recommendations?

Have a great Monday.

22 February 2007

I left work on time tonight, which is the first time I've done so all week. I know it's a short week and that last week I was in yee-hawville so that doesn't really count as real work so I shouldn't have to complain, but I am. It's been a pretty fucking busy week at work.

No matter how hard I try to predict what my boss will quiz me on, bug me about, ask for an update on, I fail. Not that I think I'm a failure, but she really does take me down several notches on the "I really know what I'm doing in my job" ladder.

I like to think I do what I'm doing and that I'm not a moron. People, am I a moron??


I realized this afternoon that my fly was down. I don't know the last time that's happened me because it rarely ever does, but it was down and I wondered if the coworker who rarely speaks to me, let alone rarely speaks to me at my desk, just so happened to come over to me at my desk today with a smirk on her face. She had little to say and I thought she might be coming over to talk to the other coworker at my desk trying to help me with something. But she claimed that she was just over to say "hey"...Well, hey...I think she knew all along. That's fine. I mean, I'm okay with it.

I skipped lunch today and ate breakfast type items later on in the day but that didn't stop me from consuming yummy pasta tonight and the numberless (because I'm hiding how many it is) trips for seconds I had. I had more than a second (and maybe more than a third), but they were smallish bowls...at least I like to think so.

I know, I'm gross and this is why I can't bitch about gaining back weight lost for the wedding. I'm really ready for an intervention. Bub, please help.


I'm tired. Bub is out and due back soon and we talked about going to the gym. I need him to go with me. We signed up to go together and so we should. The in-laws are here and will be visiting with us tomorrow night and I have an early (think first-thing-in-the-morning-you-can't-even-check-your-email-yet) call that I thought I would miss for a company meeting but apparently even my boss thinks this early call is way more important, fine. So my point is I won't have time to go to the gym before work since I can't risk being late one minute or more...(by the way, I have been doing smashingly well at being on time! Yay me!) But that means I get to waltz into a company meeting (didn't we just have one of those last week?) late and everyone will turn and I'll turn bright red (but I don't really ever turn red so I really won't) and then I'll probably have to either sit on top of the projector in the lap of the boss of the company or stand in the back and I just don't want to go. No, no, no!

But wait, tomorrow is Friday. And no, it is not a long weekend, but it is a weekend and I'll take it.

21 February 2007

So I've Been Tagged...

and too busy to catch up on all-things-blogs to notice until now! Thanks Molly!

So here we go:

1. I hate clutter. If there are bottles and cans hanging out waiting for Bub to recycle (because I do not have the patience to watch said items accumulate and take up what tiny counter space we have in the kitchen), I will secretly and discreetly...ahem...chuck them.

I work at a place where I could potentially open my own bookstore, so if we didn't need an extra copy of a particular book or it's already been utilized for all-things-work-related, I can't stand the sight of stuff on my desk so I...um...throw them out. This includes books we decide aren't right for us because their subject matter is outside of our scope. Instead of walking my butt over to another department to put said books in a donation area for a local library, I throw them away. Go ahead, call the police!

Your Christmas card from December? Trashed--but Bub keeps a select number (read: ALL) if he can stand it. Receipts? Unless it's Christmas and I have to make sure people can return/exchange what I give them, they are all TRASHED. I can't stand the clutter!

2. I fear death. Bub knows this as I have shifted my fears of worrying about people like my father dying to Bub dying. When I was younger, I used to go around saying that I hope I would die before my parents so that I didn't have to go through what I imagine to be a painful time in life.

While driving in a normal fashion where I do not feel that urge to aggressively pass a truck, for example, I think if I die, then what? It's not the heaven or hell so much as SO many things go on in one's lifetime. Even if we think we lead very non-dramatic, boring lives, there is so much at risk. And I fear it daily. And I tell myself that I will prepare myself for these deaths so that I am not hurt. But I know that I am telling myself the same lie over and over again.

3. I secretly want to open a most delicious and fun bakery. Even if it's just to bake brownies. This wouldn't help my health as I am a sucker for anything sweet. But mixing together the ingredients and even trying to make the recipes more healthful elates me as I smell the sugar and butter and chocolate mold into something yum. I have looked several times online for baking gigs. Yes, I have.

4. Until this past July I did not have a middle name. I was the minority when it came to sharing with classmates what my middle name was--or better yet--making them guess because who would ever guess that I didn't have one? Since getting married I made my maiden name my middle name. I am still getting used to not only my new last name (which I love) but getting used to filling out items that call for a middle initial--and most times I still skip that field since it's not requirement to fill in that info--but I still haven't mastered signing my name with a middle initial or allowing my new "identity" of sorts to settle in.

5. Sometimes, when I get really ticked off at Bub, I walk away. But literally so. If we are in the car arguing and I happen to be driving, I will pull over, park, and then get out only to walk. Where? I don't know. And a scene usually happens a little something like this:

Me: walking
Bub: driving slowly along as I walk on the sidewalk
Bub: Get into the car. Come on.
Me: silence
Me: No!

And this repeats for a little and then I get into the car and we usually have a laugh at how ridiculous I can be. And how crazy it is that I do that.

6. I've never ever colored my hair, had a perm, had a cavity/route canal, etc. I have had braces, complete with headgear, and broken a bone (my left wrist and I am left-handed).

That sums it up for now. Sorry for the delay on this. When is it going to be Friday? This working thing blows...

16 February 2007


It was a long day of travel which started with a 3:30am wakeup call from Orbitz to let me know that my first of two flights was on time. I jumped back into bed for 15 minutes to let the alarm really sound at 3:45 since I have been up at 5:30 on my own--no assistance from any sort of alarm clock--while my unexpectedly cool roomie snoozed on and on since she stays up later to shower and what not before bed.

I pushed outside into the hallway the dirty dishes from the celebratory "I'm going home soon brownie ice-cream sundae" from the night before and grabbed the local paper which I heard the hotel staff plunk down while I was popping open my eyelids to psyche myself for getting the heck out of here and fast.

When I arrived downstairs and as my luggage ba-boomed and zoomed over the uneven stone floor I noticed some unfamiliar but familiar faces still awake from the night before; they were the die-hard partiers. That was fine with me. I mean it was a work dinner gone long. I was not regretful that I didn't top off the 3 margaritas, tequila shot, and wine with more. I'm surprised I was only thirsty for hydration and not hanging over a toilet hoping I could delay my flight time.

I rode in a cab with one of the founders of the company. When I first met him the other night at a cocktail reception he was the typical British dry humor type. And when I had more free-flowing wine I became more comfortable with myself and came out with the expected question we all asked of each other when we weren't wearing our lanyard's and name tags: what is it that you do? To which I was embarrassed to learn that he was one of the founders of the company. And when he said not to be embarrassed, that he doesn't go around telling people that, that he prefers to keep that info somewhat reserved, I figured how opposite of my boss is he?

We arrive at the airport and part our separate ways, wishing each other good and safe travels. From my fabulous planning I had close-to-the-entrance-and-exit-seats for both the first and second flights with no one immediately sitting on either side. The extra elbow room was appreciated and I held on for dear life as the cramps were at an all-time high.

I wanted to give my seat up to the quiet man two seats over from me. I wanted to ask if he was new to Boston or visiting for a short time. He craned his neck several times to see out the window which I blocked with my crazy bumpy ponytail and bunched up coat resting on my lap. I tried to lean back to let him see and felt awkward that he was constantly turned my way trying to catch a glimpse of the clouds, the water, the land. The snow.

Fastforward and I'm feeling really hot from being all twisted up in my plane clothes under a blanket on the couch when Bub arrives home. I'm groggy and annoyed that I didn't unpack just a few things so that I could have looked nicer for his arrival. Instead he waited as I put spring-colored tulips in a vase, combed my hair, threw on a skirt and clean sweater with newish heels. I had been in boots all day--with not painful heels--but enough to piss off my feet. But I wanted to step it up. I was home and this was our Valentine's Day.

We hit a favorite restaurant and Bub was extremely talkative. I watched as others packed into the cramped restaurant and rushed to shut the door to keep out the bitter reminder that we're still in winter even though spring is supposed to come soon.

We drank wine, ate appetizers which brought us back to Amalfi Coast memories, and we talked about what we would do this weekend. How we would pick up our house-hunting task and maybe figure things out as we go.

Because this weekend, people. This weekend is here. And it's a long one.

14 February 2007

There is a light not too far off into the distance. It's two words. One which starts with a "T" and the other which begins with an "E"--that's right. It's "The End"...

The end of longish days and boozing nights.
The end of dodging my boss' arrogance, strange stares (checking up on me of course--and the famous look up and down at last night's banquet when I strolled in in lace and she looked cheap in a black halter dress appropriate for a borderline strip club--no bitterness there, though...geesh).
The end of standing up for 6 hours with a brief lunch break so that I could be mistaken for someone who works at another company.
The end of dodging the girl I was asked to include in my dinner plans on Monday night because my boss is too "important" and we ran into her that same evening as we were at the same restaurant and she barely acknowledged us in her stupidity of assigning me to watch over her incompetent staff.
The end of listening about how great this event is and how I will get so much out of it when it's been more a waste of time and a reason to keep the alcohol intake high.

We end it with one last dinner. A last supper, if you will, before my flight tomorrow at the crack of dawn. I will go home and watch Oprah, people. I will do nothing. But I will go to the gym because I've been eating and drinking calories on high. I will work from home on Friday because it's time I made a decision to do so like every other bloody person from our office. And I will enjoy that long weekend that I have been craving since last weekend when I stressed so long over this silly trip.

And can I just say that I got the most special gift from Bub for this special love-saturated day? He sent the sweetest note and created the most special album of us through the years--of our international vacations--times spent together--and how we've been through so much.

That's my husband. I can't wait for his hugs tomorrow. Miss you!!! x

13 February 2007

Yee-haw, part I

I'm running on V.L.S. or "very little sleep"--I was up at 3:30am--or even earlier since I went to bed at 10pm on Sunday, woke at close to midnight, then at about 2am, then at 3 when Orbitz called to say my flight was on time, then I laid still in bed until the alarm sounded: 3:30am.

Fastforward. I made it. I'm not happy. I'm ready to go home.

My boss acted so inappropriately tonight; apparently I'm a babysitter for her incompetent staff (re: NOT me) and it's currently 11:19pm here and I'm having a hard time typing and including punctuation.

I'm ready to go home. Ready for tomorrow's pointless day of lectures, and the next day's continuing of lectures along with more mindless alcohol consumption and "awards" to digest at a banquet that is more for execs, I'm convinced, than anything.

Call my attitude bad, but I told you I checked out of this place a long time ago. I didn't need a trip to TX to remind me of it.

Bub, I miss you. I'll call you in the morning.


09 February 2007


I feel like I cannot be 100% excited that it's Friday since I have an early flight to Texas to dread on Monday. We have to share a room with someone at the hotel and the way the numbers work out, there aren't enough women in the office to plan on requesting to be roommates with. So I have a "random roommate" who I will find out about when I check in. Joy. By random, I mean that the other people I could potentially room with are sales people I might have met once or never at all...

On top of that I will get my period next week (great) and be in cramps hell for the first full day of meetings. That night, we'll have a banquet and I'll probably want to die of stomach trouble and bitchiness. Yay.

I'm trying to feel like I should enjoy the weekend. I have more pampering tomorrow--nails and a hair cut so that I can look my best for when I'm in Texas. Not that I want to impress a bunch of sales people with polished nails and nice grooming, but I'm sure you understand.

So I'm thinking that this time next week--or even a week from yesterday when I'm back--that I'll be in a better state of mind. Back with my husband. Back in the cold. Back for the loooong weekend I am yearning for.

Happy Weekend.

08 February 2007

mini rant

I am so exhausted.

I've been working longer hours trying to see the light.

And I don't. And I feel like a fake. Like a pushover. Like a frump.

I am seriously putting a best two feet forward.

My mind is not rewarded. I am not sighing any relief at the end of the day.

It's all corporate bull.

I just need a vacation.

07 February 2007


I wanted to go to the Justin Timberlake concert last night.

I was too late securing tickets.

I drove into work listening to how fabulous it was--that Pink was a great opening artist, that Timbaland was allowed an intermission act, and that, of course, Justin was phenomenal.


06 February 2007


...While driving to work today I saw a big black U-Haul-looking truck. On one of its sides it read: Deathwish Piano Movers
...At the gym last night I dragged myself over to the "sketch" pad or the teeny, tiny stretching area where one can use large bouncy balls to do ab work, or just stretch and do traditional crunches or sit-ups. I opted for the ball-less crunches and had to shut my eyes for fear of having to see others in awkward positions or stare as I struggled after 50 crunches to attempt 50 more. The noises that came from my right were startling; it sounded like this man was having sex with a gym ball. Gross.
...I am wearing body shapewear underneathe my clothes today because I do not have proper long johns and this was one step better than regular undies. I feel like I am wearing a girdle right about now.
...Someone I work with just told me his last day is on Friday and he'll move to Denver. I got jealous and wondered when I can announce the same news: that my last day is Someday and that I'm moving to Capri, which happens to be one of the places we went on our honeymoon and coincidentally enough--the place where the latest J. Crew catalog was photographed.
...It is 19 degrees out now and I'm already thinking of something fun to bake tonight.
...I'm trying a new nail place on Saturday. I'm hoping they're good and I'm looking forward to shiny toes and moisturized fingers. I yearn to return to the spa from last weekend and just learned my birthday is on a Friday this year. I know what I'm doing that day. And it's not work.
...I'm bummed that I won't be here for V-Day since I'll still be stuck in Texas. I hope that our day-late V-Day celebration is still fun--Bub is not saying much about it. All I'm asking for are some kisses.
...My hair is getting really long and I've had thoughts about trimming it shorter than an inch. I think I know what I want my next short hair cut to be.
...I wish my job right now was to decorate a cake or something. I'm sort of feeling a bit spent for a Tuesday. Anyone want to play hooky with me?

02 February 2007

At last

It's Friday.

And I'm feeling good despite a tiny headache from all the sangria last night.

After spending time with a friend I see far too little, I woke up this morning tired and slightly cranky and pissed that the shampoo I bought yesterday was actually conditioner, and that I literally had to brainstorm where random travel-sized shampoo bottles would be in the decreasingly hot shower so that I could wash my hair with something other than water.

But once I found something (hooray) and threw together a mighty cute outfit (if I do say so myself, my shoes rock : )), I'm feeling a renewed sense of satisfaction that I will find a new job opportunity. That the fizzled out interview from last year will come to closure and I will follow up until that is the case. That the job that I doubted I could handle is actually one I can and would certainly be able to do and do well and that this morning in my semi-warm post-shower drip, I applied for it, causing me to be slightly late to work, but hell, it's FRIDAY, people, and I have better things to do than worry about being on time to put labels on envelopes, photocopy contracts, and chase people who refuse to read and hit 'reply' to emails I crafted with very creative and kind words.

And now as I sit at my desk and hear clearly all the people who are speaking at the Texas sales meeting in less then 2 weeks--I wonder do I really have to go if I'm hearing all this now? But so what, because it's FRIDAY people, and I've checked out of this place a long time ago.

01 February 2007

ran dom


It's been a while, so I thought I should give the Internet an update.

I procrastinated on a project for work all week and it took me less than an hour to do and it was quite painless.
My boss just got promoted to that thing right below a president. Ick.
I've been eating pumpkin seeds this afternoon and they're the spicy kind.
I've been a huge gym procrastinator, I'm up to 2 times in 2 weeks. Is it really that hard? Maybe I should see above and realize that going can be quite pain-less.
I feel much better than last week--I now forget that my left ear is blocked.
I made brownies last night, skipping out on an egg and reducing the butter and sugar by a few smidges--all would have gone well if I had reduced the time to bake more than a few smidges. They're a little hard. Yowzas.
I'm looking forward to a spa day on Saturday, beers with friends, house shopping, and talking about our next vacation. After so many overseas trips, we have decided to stay in the country. After all, I still haven't been to California. Hawaii would be fun, too...

Is this work day over yet?