What binds us to friends of past and why is it that one feels guilt when the emotion is not truly genuine any more? That talking becomes a chore, that laughing becomes forced? What is it that changes the friends you once used to know and laugh easily with? How can a sacred bond of closeness float away?
People do change and that is one way to explain how friends are no longer close, no longer true, but I wonder if there isn't more of a reason. Are we too "busy"--no time to set aside to have dinner, coffee, wine, see one another's home, meet their S.O.? What is it?
There are so many people who enter our lives and then leave. It's those who visit longer that we call friends.
I like to think that milestones in life bring to fruition those very feelings: who is close? Who can you count on? When I'm down and my husband isn't there, who will I call? Who will pick up? Who will call back? Who remembers? Who has been there?
Lately, especially when it came time to plan my wedding, I had to think hard about who to include, who to exclude--who was "close" enough to be invited. And it was hard. What were my reasons for inviting one coworker over another? Why was my boss invited but not a college friend who spent many a night crying, laughing, remembering with me?
And the past memories were there to remind me. This is what I should do. This is what I am supposed to do.
You're limited, I think, when you reach a certain age about the people you meet and who you will befriend. And it gets harder. No more are the classrooms that throw you into a mix of personalities with people your age, no more are the summer camps and late nights of drinking in college. The "friends of friends"...there are coworkers, random encounters, but even then you should have an established friend base.
Looking back I found it easy, especially in college, to find friendships. And now I feel as though I've outgrown not only some of those friends, but the ones I had in high school. Sure, I have a few important people that I call friends or best friends. Sometimes I wonder if the past is what makes them golden or if it's because they're always there to know me, understand me, and just let me be me.
20 May 2007
15 May 2007
It's what I need
All the lights are off because I can never be so sure if the light from outdoors is enough to fuel my workspace at the kitchen table or if the extra warmth and artificial light from the tired chandelier is over-the-top when it's on during the day.
The windows are open and even though that means no more peace and quiet of the top floor of my building where all of us are owners and all the renters are breathing below whether as students or not, I need fresh air. When spring arrives and before it gets too uncomfortable where the sweat appears on a girl who hardly does unless she's been exercising (and there certainly needs to be more of that), the windows stay open. So yes, I heard you the other night, you obnoxious college kids who throw bottles near or on cars to set their sirens off, to wake the world because you think that when you are inebriated that you rule the world moreso than when you're sober and acting plainly immature. You're now immature, loud, and loud.
The door rattles back and forth as if someone is trying to test the knob which doesn't bode well for me since about a year ago there were break-in's on our floor near our home and well, that just isn't cool. But the fresh air, it's what I need.
The windows are open and even though that means no more peace and quiet of the top floor of my building where all of us are owners and all the renters are breathing below whether as students or not, I need fresh air. When spring arrives and before it gets too uncomfortable where the sweat appears on a girl who hardly does unless she's been exercising (and there certainly needs to be more of that), the windows stay open. So yes, I heard you the other night, you obnoxious college kids who throw bottles near or on cars to set their sirens off, to wake the world because you think that when you are inebriated that you rule the world moreso than when you're sober and acting plainly immature. You're now immature, loud, and loud.
The door rattles back and forth as if someone is trying to test the knob which doesn't bode well for me since about a year ago there were break-in's on our floor near our home and well, that just isn't cool. But the fresh air, it's what I need.
11 May 2007
I'm searching deep inside of myself right now. To find the place that comes so easily for you fellow blogmates. The kind of words I'm looking for have been missing for some time. And I'm afraid one wrong move and Bub will catch me and ask what I'm writing about and I won't know because that thing I learned about, that stream of consciousness will dissipate and I won't even have time to look up and be sure that I spelled dissipate correctly. So far, so good--not about the spelling but about Bub not questioning me yet.
Fuck. I had a really good song on and now it's changed so I changed it and now I'm back to where I was pre-post.
Ugh.
More later.
Fuck. I had a really good song on and now it's changed so I changed it and now I'm back to where I was pre-post.
Ugh.
More later.
09 May 2007
Ready for Summer
I know, we only started having spring weather and I'm already rushing through to the next season.
But today I learned that I was wrong about our vacation policy. I do not have to wait until my 3rd anniversary at the company to receive an additional week of time off. No, I will start earning this extra time off at the start of my third year here, which is in June. I've rejoined the land of the living and will have more than 2 weeks of vacation this year, and a little over 3 next year. Thank goodness. It was hard saving up all my time off last year for our wedding, and I was lucky that I gained a few extra days when I worked weekends at various book fairs. Now there will be no more scrounging around for time so that I'm not the only person working during the holidays or because I couldn't take a long weekend around the 4th of July. Now I can use a vacation day here and there and not feel like I'm going to be screwed come the fall, that I have months to go before we refresh our time off.
We're well on our way to preparing for our summer vacation. It'll have been one year ago come July that we enjoyed Italy and all its glory. I feel like I've traveled so much since I started this job. And mostly it has been international time away. Although exciting, the trips can be draining--time differences and long layovers, the pressure to see this and that or we'll regret it, figuring out what to say in a foreign language, and of course, the expensiveness that comes along with it all.
This summer we celebrate our first wedding anniversary in Maine, a state which I've been to for a mere few hours for college, for marching band. I saw some snow, a football field, and rowdy bus full of college kids wondering why we're doing this when we could be sleeping in on a Saturday morning after heavy drinking. The thing is, we'll stay at a charming inn in Camden and from there do all sorts of day stuff--exploring--hanging out--relaxing. We'll toast a year down and so many to go. And that makes me happy. We'll also camp. We haven't been since we got engaged, although Bub has with his friends. We've had some good times backpacking in Montana, cooking by the fire, swimming, hiking, broiling in our tent at the Florida Keys, trying to use our cell phones to call friends and family to tell them that we're engaged... I'm looking forward to reminiscing and, of course, spending some time away.
For now, I have several trips to New York for work, a friend's wedding, and our first trek to the Cape this season to look forward to.
I'm ready for summer.
But today I learned that I was wrong about our vacation policy. I do not have to wait until my 3rd anniversary at the company to receive an additional week of time off. No, I will start earning this extra time off at the start of my third year here, which is in June. I've rejoined the land of the living and will have more than 2 weeks of vacation this year, and a little over 3 next year. Thank goodness. It was hard saving up all my time off last year for our wedding, and I was lucky that I gained a few extra days when I worked weekends at various book fairs. Now there will be no more scrounging around for time so that I'm not the only person working during the holidays or because I couldn't take a long weekend around the 4th of July. Now I can use a vacation day here and there and not feel like I'm going to be screwed come the fall, that I have months to go before we refresh our time off.
We're well on our way to preparing for our summer vacation. It'll have been one year ago come July that we enjoyed Italy and all its glory. I feel like I've traveled so much since I started this job. And mostly it has been international time away. Although exciting, the trips can be draining--time differences and long layovers, the pressure to see this and that or we'll regret it, figuring out what to say in a foreign language, and of course, the expensiveness that comes along with it all.
This summer we celebrate our first wedding anniversary in Maine, a state which I've been to for a mere few hours for college, for marching band. I saw some snow, a football field, and rowdy bus full of college kids wondering why we're doing this when we could be sleeping in on a Saturday morning after heavy drinking. The thing is, we'll stay at a charming inn in Camden and from there do all sorts of day stuff--exploring--hanging out--relaxing. We'll toast a year down and so many to go. And that makes me happy. We'll also camp. We haven't been since we got engaged, although Bub has with his friends. We've had some good times backpacking in Montana, cooking by the fire, swimming, hiking, broiling in our tent at the Florida Keys, trying to use our cell phones to call friends and family to tell them that we're engaged... I'm looking forward to reminiscing and, of course, spending some time away.
For now, I have several trips to New York for work, a friend's wedding, and our first trek to the Cape this season to look forward to.
I'm ready for summer.
04 May 2007
It's Happening
I'm getting old. And I know I've talked and wallowed in this all before. And I know by age number that in the grand scheme of things, I'm not exactly old. But I've received my first reality check that I have taken all things for granted, including good health.
My cholesterol is borderline high. It's 212 and it should be less than 200. I am told it's "moderate" by the woman who took the test at our benefits fair here at work yesterday. I was sort of cocky walking over there.
They're going to tell me I'm fine whereas J who just had her test done is going on and on about how she has high cholesterol and blood pressure.
But no, the woman writes down my score and waves me over like a teacher looking for the child who needs "help". A pity party.
"Do you exercise?" She asks.
What? Yes!
"Well a young..." Pause. Silence. Then, more quickly.
"A young WOMAN like yourself has time to make changes in the way you eat and exercise to get your cholesterol down."
At least my blood pressure was normal.
A, who I work with (who needs to fine-tune her eating if you get me) said that those tests were wildly "off". Denial, I think. But maybe they are and my cholesterol is fine. But what if they're not "off"?
On the same day as the cholesterol test I get a comment from my favorite colleague.
"You look thin today." A smile appears on her face.
While smiling I tell her to shut up.
+++
In the good news department I bought a new dress I fell in love with a month or so ago. I wanted to buy it but it was too pricey. Well, there was the dress again when I was at the store last night. It taunted me with its size 4 tag and hefty price.
I had heard the saleswoman pressuring girls and their mothers shopping for prom dresses that there was a sale, she had coupons. So I grabbed the dress that sat behind an ugly one as if someone had tried to hide it. I looked around for a size 6--but I noticed there were no more dresses like this anywhere in the store.
This was the last one. I almost started talking aloud, reasoning out why I should try on a dress that probably wouldn't fit and look good and work. And why I should try it on when it's twice what I want to pay?
So to make myself feel better, I brought a few other dresses in with me to try on so that the pressure didn't lie in just this one silly thing. But I tried what I had my heart set on first. And I loved it. And it made me look THIN. And that's great when the size is FOUR.
This dress I will get upset over if after having children I cannot fit back into it. It's black, but fun, black and practical, black and do you know how long it's been since I've bought something both practical AND cute? It's usually just the latter.
So I got 50 bucks off the price--but it was still above my price range for a dress.
But there was no way I was letting this go...again. This was meant to happen.
Tomorrow I'll debut it.
My cholesterol is borderline high. It's 212 and it should be less than 200. I am told it's "moderate" by the woman who took the test at our benefits fair here at work yesterday. I was sort of cocky walking over there.
They're going to tell me I'm fine whereas J who just had her test done is going on and on about how she has high cholesterol and blood pressure.
But no, the woman writes down my score and waves me over like a teacher looking for the child who needs "help". A pity party.
"Do you exercise?" She asks.
What? Yes!
"Well a young..." Pause. Silence. Then, more quickly.
"A young WOMAN like yourself has time to make changes in the way you eat and exercise to get your cholesterol down."
At least my blood pressure was normal.
A, who I work with (who needs to fine-tune her eating if you get me) said that those tests were wildly "off". Denial, I think. But maybe they are and my cholesterol is fine. But what if they're not "off"?
On the same day as the cholesterol test I get a comment from my favorite colleague.
"You look thin today." A smile appears on her face.
While smiling I tell her to shut up.
+++
In the good news department I bought a new dress I fell in love with a month or so ago. I wanted to buy it but it was too pricey. Well, there was the dress again when I was at the store last night. It taunted me with its size 4 tag and hefty price.
I had heard the saleswoman pressuring girls and their mothers shopping for prom dresses that there was a sale, she had coupons. So I grabbed the dress that sat behind an ugly one as if someone had tried to hide it. I looked around for a size 6--but I noticed there were no more dresses like this anywhere in the store.
This was the last one. I almost started talking aloud, reasoning out why I should try on a dress that probably wouldn't fit and look good and work. And why I should try it on when it's twice what I want to pay?
So to make myself feel better, I brought a few other dresses in with me to try on so that the pressure didn't lie in just this one silly thing. But I tried what I had my heart set on first. And I loved it. And it made me look THIN. And that's great when the size is FOUR.
This dress I will get upset over if after having children I cannot fit back into it. It's black, but fun, black and practical, black and do you know how long it's been since I've bought something both practical AND cute? It's usually just the latter.
So I got 50 bucks off the price--but it was still above my price range for a dress.
But there was no way I was letting this go...again. This was meant to happen.
Tomorrow I'll debut it.
01 May 2007
A little bit of this, a little bit of that
Apparently there are nasty people in the world who harrass women who blog. Good Morning America shared the story and this poor woman ended her blog and actually wrote that this harrassment changed her life forever, that she does not want to leave her backyard and does not feel safe at all. Poor lady. I can't get more than maybe a comment a week on this thing, let alone hate comments.
I had the most terrible dream last night. And it's one where even if you wake up, you go right back to it so it haunts you. I can't even write about it. It's too disturbing.
I went to the gym straight after work last night which I rarely do due to the fact that there are so many people there hogging all the machines and the lack of parking, but to my surprise it wasn't packed or too, too busy probably because everyone was enjoying the outdoors since it was so warm. I really pushed it last night and because of the bad dream, I woke up feeling less than rested and dragged my butt into work 1/2 hour later than usual...oops.
More later.
I had the most terrible dream last night. And it's one where even if you wake up, you go right back to it so it haunts you. I can't even write about it. It's too disturbing.
I went to the gym straight after work last night which I rarely do due to the fact that there are so many people there hogging all the machines and the lack of parking, but to my surprise it wasn't packed or too, too busy probably because everyone was enjoying the outdoors since it was so warm. I really pushed it last night and because of the bad dream, I woke up feeling less than rested and dragged my butt into work 1/2 hour later than usual...oops.
More later.
30 April 2007
I bought a new headband among other things while in London. This is my second attempt at wearing it, but it's hurting my head too damn much. WTF?
My mother did one of her outburts during Dad's birthday dinner last night. Bub definitely saw it. She was short of starting to curse. Of course, it was over nothing special. She makes me so angry when she consumes too much alcohol. She doesn't even need it to act this way.
My dad couldn't even finish his meal. He had to bring the rest home. I know his stomach was turning just thinking about how my mother might carry on. Would she make an even bigger scene?
It's just not fair. I felt like the parent a little last night. Telling her to knock it off under my breath. Telling her that we're all waiting to eat because she made a big stink about her meal.
If she only had a mirror, she could see what she's like. And I hope one day if I act like that--and I'm sure I will or have or am trying to suppress the memory--that Bub pulls out my reflection so that I can see that I'm no longer in control.
I had to turn away from her so many times. I always get stuck sitting next to her. And it's not that I don't love her, it's because she desperately wants the attention and nurturing.
I can't give it to her like that. I refuse to. So the touching my arm, trying to talk at me, they just don't work Mom.
You need to stop.
My mother did one of her outburts during Dad's birthday dinner last night. Bub definitely saw it. She was short of starting to curse. Of course, it was over nothing special. She makes me so angry when she consumes too much alcohol. She doesn't even need it to act this way.
My dad couldn't even finish his meal. He had to bring the rest home. I know his stomach was turning just thinking about how my mother might carry on. Would she make an even bigger scene?
It's just not fair. I felt like the parent a little last night. Telling her to knock it off under my breath. Telling her that we're all waiting to eat because she made a big stink about her meal.
If she only had a mirror, she could see what she's like. And I hope one day if I act like that--and I'm sure I will or have or am trying to suppress the memory--that Bub pulls out my reflection so that I can see that I'm no longer in control.
I had to turn away from her so many times. I always get stuck sitting next to her. And it's not that I don't love her, it's because she desperately wants the attention and nurturing.
I can't give it to her like that. I refuse to. So the touching my arm, trying to talk at me, they just don't work Mom.
You need to stop.
26 April 2007
I have been tagged by Sass
And so here we go!
A - Available or Taken? I'm a Mrs. and about to celebrate my 1-year wedding anniversary. Sigh. Has it been almost a year since our magical day?
B - Best Friend? Bub. He's seen all sides of me. Some scary, but hopefully the fun outweighs the ugly : ) Also some gal pals--none who read this blog (let alone know it exists!).
C - Cake or Pie? What a toughie! If the cake and pie option have chocolate in it, I could go either way. Show me chocolate cake with yummy frosting versus blueberry pie and I'm all for the cake. Show me vanilla cake with yummy frosting and mud pie and I think I'd go mud...
D - Drink of Choice? Ummm...Riesling. Syrah. Coffee milkshake, although they make my tummy go nutty. Diet Coke after for a hangover. Seltzer with juice (spritzer). Iced coffee--French vanilla w/ skim from Dunkin's or an iced skim latte at Starbuckers.
E - Essential Item(s)? Chapstick and/or lip gloss, my watch
F - Favorite Color? Blue like my bridesmaids' dresses, yellow, watermelon greens, getting into reds--love pinks.
G - Gummi Bears or Worms? Bears; they're cuter!
H - Hometown? I was born in Boston and that's all I'm sayin'!
I - Indulgence? Chocolate, French fries w/ ketchup...heavenly! Chicken fingers with honey mustard, cheesecake.
J - January or February? February; it's closer to spring...
K - Kids? Yes; but I'm afraid for the pushing and not knowing when the baby will come.
L - Life is incomplete without… happiness
M - Marriage Date 07/22/2006 : )
N - Number of Siblings One, older sister
O - Oranges or Apples? Granny apple especially if I can put PB on it--creamy low-fat JIF. Or oranges -- I love when they're cut up in quarters like they did for a snack during soccer games.
P - Phobias/Fears Sometimes the dark! Death is my number one fear though--others dying moreso than me.
Q - Favorite Quote
May your voyage through life be as happy and as free
As the dancing waves on the deep blue sea
R - Reasons to Smile? I can wake up each day next to my husband, great family and friends who I sometimes take for granted.
S - Season? Summer--spring too if it's warm and not borderline freezing! I do love the fall colors as well.
T - Tag Three: Kris, Erin, and Stacy!!!
U - Unknown Fact About Me I cry at the finales of reality shows: American Idol (even if I don't really like the singer--no offense Fantasia), or America's Next Top Model. I really become so happy for them that they won!
V - Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals? Oppressor
W - Worst habits? Bad temper!
X - X-rays or Ultrasounds? X-Ray; my mom is an X-Ray Technologist!
Y - Your Favorite Foods Pasta, pizza (carb-lover!) brownies...it goes on and on!
Z - Zodiac Aries
A - Available or Taken? I'm a Mrs. and about to celebrate my 1-year wedding anniversary. Sigh. Has it been almost a year since our magical day?
B - Best Friend? Bub. He's seen all sides of me. Some scary, but hopefully the fun outweighs the ugly : ) Also some gal pals--none who read this blog (let alone know it exists!).
C - Cake or Pie? What a toughie! If the cake and pie option have chocolate in it, I could go either way. Show me chocolate cake with yummy frosting versus blueberry pie and I'm all for the cake. Show me vanilla cake with yummy frosting and mud pie and I think I'd go mud...
D - Drink of Choice? Ummm...Riesling. Syrah. Coffee milkshake, although they make my tummy go nutty. Diet Coke after for a hangover. Seltzer with juice (spritzer). Iced coffee--French vanilla w/ skim from Dunkin's or an iced skim latte at Starbuckers.
E - Essential Item(s)? Chapstick and/or lip gloss, my watch
F - Favorite Color? Blue like my bridesmaids' dresses, yellow, watermelon greens, getting into reds--love pinks.
G - Gummi Bears or Worms? Bears; they're cuter!
H - Hometown? I was born in Boston and that's all I'm sayin'!
I - Indulgence? Chocolate, French fries w/ ketchup...heavenly! Chicken fingers with honey mustard, cheesecake.
J - January or February? February; it's closer to spring...
K - Kids? Yes; but I'm afraid for the pushing and not knowing when the baby will come.
L - Life is incomplete without… happiness
M - Marriage Date 07/22/2006 : )
N - Number of Siblings One, older sister
O - Oranges or Apples? Granny apple especially if I can put PB on it--creamy low-fat JIF. Or oranges -- I love when they're cut up in quarters like they did for a snack during soccer games.
P - Phobias/Fears Sometimes the dark! Death is my number one fear though--others dying moreso than me.
Q - Favorite Quote
May your voyage through life be as happy and as free
As the dancing waves on the deep blue sea
R - Reasons to Smile? I can wake up each day next to my husband, great family and friends who I sometimes take for granted.
S - Season? Summer--spring too if it's warm and not borderline freezing! I do love the fall colors as well.
T - Tag Three: Kris, Erin, and Stacy!!!
U - Unknown Fact About Me I cry at the finales of reality shows: American Idol (even if I don't really like the singer--no offense Fantasia), or America's Next Top Model. I really become so happy for them that they won!
V - Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals? Oppressor
W - Worst habits? Bad temper!
X - X-rays or Ultrasounds? X-Ray; my mom is an X-Ray Technologist!
Y - Your Favorite Foods Pasta, pizza (carb-lover!) brownies...it goes on and on!
Z - Zodiac Aries
22 April 2007
Good mood
Perhaps it's the spring weather that has finally shown its face, but I'm not feeling too shabby these days. Granted, things aren't perfect, starting with the fact that my boss returns from vacation tomorrow which may mean that things could get a bit hectic as I have a lot on my plate to do from my recent work trip to just regular work in general.
But it was prior to my leaving for the work fair that had me thinking about a billboard I saw while driving. I can remember it was for VW and probably for their bug cars, the updated bug and how they're so cheerful which is why the banner on the ad made so much sense: Misery has enough company. Be happy. I'm not sure that's exactly how it was phrased, but you get the gist. And not that I enjoy being miserable, it's just that I can get irritated all too quickly. A trip on the train reminded me of this on departure day for London.
I sat on the train inspecting my nails. I scored an oh-so-cheap manicure that morning which was fantastic because they went quickly, did a good job, and were, as previously stated, cheap. Sure it wasn't totally therapeutic, but I needed a quick job as I had to leave and so there it was.
Bub had the car, so I was minutes from our place to then call a cab and be on my way to the airport. A Chinese couple who I wasn't sure was from the area sat across from me. And then confirming my observation, the Chinese woman asked the train driver (or whatever their proper title is) for directions: which stop do they get off at. I couldn't really hear and the woman sat down next to me as I think she was worried about missing her stop. She kept a close eye on her husband in case they had to make any quick moves.
And then, bam. This woman out of no where starts huffing and puffing her way to the door, train pass in her mouth, one plastic bag hanging around her wrist. You'd think she had walked 40 miles to her deathbed; she looked terrible and the nastiness that was to come would solidify the entire grouchy character she wore so well on her sleeve.
These trains are bad enough as it is. UNCROSS YOUR LEGS. I look up and yes, she's looking at me. Is this now a crime?
Well, remember how I said that I easily become irritable? I wasn't about to let this go without so much as a reply. She's passed right on and is close to the door, even closer to the Chinese woman on my right. And so here it comes from my mouth without so much as a thought that maybe I shouldn't have said this, but she WAS rude: That was quite rude. Since when is it wrong to cross your legs on a train?
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, but it wasn't the old grouch who replied, it was a man hollering far on my left: If you weren't a woman, I would do something about this! You're a NASTY, OLD LADY!
And there it was.
The woman got off the train and acted as if she didn't hear us or couldn't care less.
And I thought did I do the right thing? Was that classy? Should I have stood up for myself like that or was this woman just clueless about life, people, walking on trains?
And then I hear the soft murmur on my right. The Chinese woman, she was still on the train, her husband in tow, where she left him. And her reply was so simple, so intelligent, so easy.
Forgive.
So lady, I guess I forgive you, but if you're going to walk around and be miserable then of course there are going to be billboards that tell you otherwise. And perhaps you should look into purchasing a VW bug to cure you of your misery.
But it was prior to my leaving for the work fair that had me thinking about a billboard I saw while driving. I can remember it was for VW and probably for their bug cars, the updated bug and how they're so cheerful which is why the banner on the ad made so much sense: Misery has enough company. Be happy. I'm not sure that's exactly how it was phrased, but you get the gist. And not that I enjoy being miserable, it's just that I can get irritated all too quickly. A trip on the train reminded me of this on departure day for London.
I sat on the train inspecting my nails. I scored an oh-so-cheap manicure that morning which was fantastic because they went quickly, did a good job, and were, as previously stated, cheap. Sure it wasn't totally therapeutic, but I needed a quick job as I had to leave and so there it was.
Bub had the car, so I was minutes from our place to then call a cab and be on my way to the airport. A Chinese couple who I wasn't sure was from the area sat across from me. And then confirming my observation, the Chinese woman asked the train driver (or whatever their proper title is) for directions: which stop do they get off at. I couldn't really hear and the woman sat down next to me as I think she was worried about missing her stop. She kept a close eye on her husband in case they had to make any quick moves.
And then, bam. This woman out of no where starts huffing and puffing her way to the door, train pass in her mouth, one plastic bag hanging around her wrist. You'd think she had walked 40 miles to her deathbed; she looked terrible and the nastiness that was to come would solidify the entire grouchy character she wore so well on her sleeve.
These trains are bad enough as it is. UNCROSS YOUR LEGS. I look up and yes, she's looking at me. Is this now a crime?
Well, remember how I said that I easily become irritable? I wasn't about to let this go without so much as a reply. She's passed right on and is close to the door, even closer to the Chinese woman on my right. And so here it comes from my mouth without so much as a thought that maybe I shouldn't have said this, but she WAS rude: That was quite rude. Since when is it wrong to cross your legs on a train?
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, but it wasn't the old grouch who replied, it was a man hollering far on my left: If you weren't a woman, I would do something about this! You're a NASTY, OLD LADY!
And there it was.
The woman got off the train and acted as if she didn't hear us or couldn't care less.
And I thought did I do the right thing? Was that classy? Should I have stood up for myself like that or was this woman just clueless about life, people, walking on trains?
And then I hear the soft murmur on my right. The Chinese woman, she was still on the train, her husband in tow, where she left him. And her reply was so simple, so intelligent, so easy.
Forgive.
So lady, I guess I forgive you, but if you're going to walk around and be miserable then of course there are going to be billboards that tell you otherwise. And perhaps you should look into purchasing a VW bug to cure you of your misery.
16 April 2007
Weather is therapy
At least if you're in London that is.
I arrived yesterday and had a mental breakdown. It has already happened at two of these events: they misplaced my luggage.
We don't know where it is. Don't worry. It should be at your hotel tomorrow.
Ooooo. Great. I'm really happy to hear this. I left the airport feeling defeated after sticking around for 2+ hours yesterday after we arrived. Just great. I looked like a tourist walking Victoria Street to the Thames as women strolled past in lovely sun dresses, sandals, tank tops while the guys donned shorts and tees. Fine. I'm in all my glory, sweaty in my sweatshirt, heavy socks, sneakers, jeans, etc. I haven't brushed my teeth since before I left for the flight which laid over in JFK and on and on and on. I felt like a little girl who had no control over what she wore or selected while shopping because she didn't know best; Mom did. And so while I envied all the cute skirts and fun outfits I saw on the people walking along the water, I thought, am I going to be wearing this for the next 24 hours or more?
No, thank God. I got my suitcase late last night with all the lovelies I packed knowing that it was going to be heavenly here. All the fun clothes I purchased while shopping with Mom on Friday when I turned the big 2-7 were folded just so in my suitcase. Yup, they were there. I gained back my peace of mind and felt great this morning as I finished getting ready to attack my clients with enthusiasm, confidence and excitement.
That's right, it's my show and for once it's not about my boss and what's new with her. It's about what I know, what I think, and the work that I do. And for once, it feels frigging good to be where I am.
More later.
I arrived yesterday and had a mental breakdown. It has already happened at two of these events: they misplaced my luggage.
We don't know where it is. Don't worry. It should be at your hotel tomorrow.
Ooooo. Great. I'm really happy to hear this. I left the airport feeling defeated after sticking around for 2+ hours yesterday after we arrived. Just great. I looked like a tourist walking Victoria Street to the Thames as women strolled past in lovely sun dresses, sandals, tank tops while the guys donned shorts and tees. Fine. I'm in all my glory, sweaty in my sweatshirt, heavy socks, sneakers, jeans, etc. I haven't brushed my teeth since before I left for the flight which laid over in JFK and on and on and on. I felt like a little girl who had no control over what she wore or selected while shopping because she didn't know best; Mom did. And so while I envied all the cute skirts and fun outfits I saw on the people walking along the water, I thought, am I going to be wearing this for the next 24 hours or more?
No, thank God. I got my suitcase late last night with all the lovelies I packed knowing that it was going to be heavenly here. All the fun clothes I purchased while shopping with Mom on Friday when I turned the big 2-7 were folded just so in my suitcase. Yup, they were there. I gained back my peace of mind and felt great this morning as I finished getting ready to attack my clients with enthusiasm, confidence and excitement.
That's right, it's my show and for once it's not about my boss and what's new with her. It's about what I know, what I think, and the work that I do. And for once, it feels frigging good to be where I am.
More later.
09 April 2007
Looking Forward and Being Pursued
So this is my last week of being twenty-six and it hasn't quite sunk in yet. I'll have plenty of time to think about being twenty-seven when I'm on the plane Saturday. I turn the big 2-7 on Friday the 13th and we'll be celebrating in the North End. My family will be there and Bub, of course. Another year gone. It's funny how nostalgic I am; I just wonder how I'll feel looking back on everything when I'm in my forties, eighties...
So. London. I leave on Saturday afternoon and I'm not looking forward to a long layover in NY. I suppose I could do work to keep busy, or call people I haven't talked to in a while, but something about waiting around in airports makes me feel like the flight is neverending since I'll have been waiting to board forever. Hopefully I'll get some sleep on the overnight flight. I have a 7am arrival and then the inevitable drop off of luggage while I wait for my room to be ready Sunday morning. Bub and I were not too happy dragging ourselves from museum to museum and sightseeing when we were exhausted. Maybe they'll have a room set for me. I hope to get out (and shop!) while sightseeing on Sunday afternoon with an old work colleague. Then it's the book fair and before I know it, back home.
I'm celebrating my birthday, bar-style and with friends the next Friday, so it's like a week-long celebration even though I work in between even if it is in a foreign country.
And finally, I'm being pursued by one company for a newly open position. The last job didn't work out and I'm OK with it, but I don't mind being hunted down to discuss new opportunities. Of course, it's too easy to meet with them in London (and I confirmed that they will be there), so it's an after work date with them on Wednesday. Lately I've found interviewing has been more a waste of my time more than anything. Sure, it's networking, but selling yourself is draining.
So. London. I leave on Saturday afternoon and I'm not looking forward to a long layover in NY. I suppose I could do work to keep busy, or call people I haven't talked to in a while, but something about waiting around in airports makes me feel like the flight is neverending since I'll have been waiting to board forever. Hopefully I'll get some sleep on the overnight flight. I have a 7am arrival and then the inevitable drop off of luggage while I wait for my room to be ready Sunday morning. Bub and I were not too happy dragging ourselves from museum to museum and sightseeing when we were exhausted. Maybe they'll have a room set for me. I hope to get out (and shop!) while sightseeing on Sunday afternoon with an old work colleague. Then it's the book fair and before I know it, back home.
I'm celebrating my birthday, bar-style and with friends the next Friday, so it's like a week-long celebration even though I work in between even if it is in a foreign country.
And finally, I'm being pursued by one company for a newly open position. The last job didn't work out and I'm OK with it, but I don't mind being hunted down to discuss new opportunities. Of course, it's too easy to meet with them in London (and I confirmed that they will be there), so it's an after work date with them on Wednesday. Lately I've found interviewing has been more a waste of my time more than anything. Sure, it's networking, but selling yourself is draining.
06 April 2007
Roundup
Soundtrack for Today: Get them Bodied - Beyonce
Tonight: Bowling
Tomorrow: Spa time
Tomorrow evening: Bake dessert for Easter with the family
Hope to Squeeze In: Nail time
Looking Forward To: Much-needed massage and brow wax
Need: Clothes to wear to London work event
Want: New spring jacket
Glad: It's Friday
Have to Do Now: Work
Happy Weekend.
Tonight: Bowling
Tomorrow: Spa time
Tomorrow evening: Bake dessert for Easter with the family
Hope to Squeeze In: Nail time
Looking Forward To: Much-needed massage and brow wax
Need: Clothes to wear to London work event
Want: New spring jacket
Glad: It's Friday
Have to Do Now: Work
Happy Weekend.
04 April 2007
The First Crush Story
For some reason, on my way to work today, as I drove the same stretch of rode I always do when I go the "usual" way to work, I had a green light and soared on through while thinking of my first crush.
I was in kindergarden. I learned how to spell yellow from using these little train posters on the wall whereby each train car was a color. I figured out that I liked writing with my left hand. And I remember the day I wanted to write with it even if more people in my class were starting to write with their right hands.
So, back to my crush.
I didn't know his name. No, this piece of information escapes me, but I remember he was one of the fifth graders designated by teachers and peers to volunteer for a little while with the kindergardeners and to play, share, and make sure we were, you know, kids.
I had the privilege of becoming a 5th grade helper, years later, and no, there were no cute boys in sight.
So this 5th grader we shall call X, he made my heart melt. He had dark hair, was tall--and gee, since I was in kindergarden, I know nothing else about him at all. I do know that he had a good heart because I saw him stick up for this girl when her hair got pulled by some snotty brat.
If you volunteer as a helper for the second shift of kindergarden, you take each line of kids out to their bus as the buses arrive. I was on Bus 5, which happened to be a cool bus, but one where I did not feel a lot of love. I was pushed and ignored upon my smiling hello's to others my age, but that is fine, I'm over it (moreso than when I was in kindergarden, of course). So upon taking out our line to the bus (oh, I loved getting up to the front of the line to follow X), I saw the incriminating action: snotty brat takes the high side-ponytail of some chick I wasn't friends with or didn't talk to--or maybe I did--we're going back 20ish years here--and at the yelping and "Owwwww"-ing of this girl, X turned around. He came over and told snotty brat to stop pulling unknown girl's hair and to apologize. Then he walked away.
And between his cuteness and the goodness of his heart, I was hooked. I couldn't wait for the end of the day when he took our line to the bus. And then I entered 1st grade and Matt was my next target.
I was in kindergarden. I learned how to spell yellow from using these little train posters on the wall whereby each train car was a color. I figured out that I liked writing with my left hand. And I remember the day I wanted to write with it even if more people in my class were starting to write with their right hands.
So, back to my crush.
I didn't know his name. No, this piece of information escapes me, but I remember he was one of the fifth graders designated by teachers and peers to volunteer for a little while with the kindergardeners and to play, share, and make sure we were, you know, kids.
I had the privilege of becoming a 5th grade helper, years later, and no, there were no cute boys in sight.
So this 5th grader we shall call X, he made my heart melt. He had dark hair, was tall--and gee, since I was in kindergarden, I know nothing else about him at all. I do know that he had a good heart because I saw him stick up for this girl when her hair got pulled by some snotty brat.
If you volunteer as a helper for the second shift of kindergarden, you take each line of kids out to their bus as the buses arrive. I was on Bus 5, which happened to be a cool bus, but one where I did not feel a lot of love. I was pushed and ignored upon my smiling hello's to others my age, but that is fine, I'm over it (moreso than when I was in kindergarden, of course). So upon taking out our line to the bus (oh, I loved getting up to the front of the line to follow X), I saw the incriminating action: snotty brat takes the high side-ponytail of some chick I wasn't friends with or didn't talk to--or maybe I did--we're going back 20ish years here--and at the yelping and "Owwwww"-ing of this girl, X turned around. He came over and told snotty brat to stop pulling unknown girl's hair and to apologize. Then he walked away.
And between his cuteness and the goodness of his heart, I was hooked. I couldn't wait for the end of the day when he took our line to the bus. And then I entered 1st grade and Matt was my next target.
03 April 2007
The prego jokes have died down and my mood has returned to not-pissed.
I'm still eyeing all the foods I eat, making myself feel guilty if I go back for seconds at dinner (the burritos and guacamole couldn't end at just one tortilla of rice and beans), and I'm carefully scheduling gym time so as to make it the four times I vowed I'd go this week.
We found a house and that has consumed all my time from approximately 3 o'clock on Sunday until the email and phone call I received from Bub at about 10ish o'clock this morning.
I found a house I could see us raising our babies in, having family visit us in, and me cleaning (yuck). But before we could think twice about it, numerous offers were made. We were left in the dust. Bub tried to prepare me.
They'll be a hiatus from the open houses, with Easter on Sunday and me being in another country the week after. But I feel more prepared. We've got some details ironed out. I'll be ready for the next whirlwind.
Bring it on.
I'm still eyeing all the foods I eat, making myself feel guilty if I go back for seconds at dinner (the burritos and guacamole couldn't end at just one tortilla of rice and beans), and I'm carefully scheduling gym time so as to make it the four times I vowed I'd go this week.
We found a house and that has consumed all my time from approximately 3 o'clock on Sunday until the email and phone call I received from Bub at about 10ish o'clock this morning.
I found a house I could see us raising our babies in, having family visit us in, and me cleaning (yuck). But before we could think twice about it, numerous offers were made. We were left in the dust. Bub tried to prepare me.
They'll be a hiatus from the open houses, with Easter on Sunday and me being in another country the week after. But I feel more prepared. We've got some details ironed out. I'll be ready for the next whirlwind.
Bring it on.
28 March 2007
Prego
Hi, I'm not.
But here's how the past two days have turned out:
Yesterday
Co-worker: What are you doing?
Me: Working
Co-worker: Is it a secret?
Me: Sure
Co-worker: Are you pregnant?
Me: Yes
Co-worker: Really? Swear to God?
Me: Yes
Me: I'm going to hell.
Me: Even he knows. (pointing to another nosy co-worker)
Co-worker: Congratulations!
Me: I'm not pregnant.
Co-worker: But you swore to God.
Me: I know.
Me: Go away!
Today
(A different co-worker): Are you pregnant?
Me: Have you been talking to (fill in name of above co-worker)?
Co-worker: No.
Me: I'm not.
Co-worker: Well, I thought because of your shirt...
Me; Oh, yeah, I guess it's flowy.
Co-worker: And you seem to have that bump.
Me; What??!
Co-worker: I mean, you could be 3 months along.
Me: WHAT????!
Me: How long have you thought I was pregnant?
Co-worker: About a month.
Me: Okay...
Co-worker: I've ruined your day--I'm sorry. Laughs.
Me: No, it's okay. I know my belly needs work.
Co-worker: Maybe it's muscle.
Me: Right.
***
Thanks! I feel great about my gut. Glad I work here, too.
Update
I've shared the horror story of today (see above) with others at the office. Mainly to share my shocked feelings, but to see if others think the same about me. I've been told I'm skinny and have a non-existant (someone even said concave) tummy. I'm not sure about that; I could put some butter on this one roll.
I'm also getting a lot of "How are you feeling? Don't lift anything. Have you picked out names?" jokes. I'm suprisingly not too upset but I wonder if you all think I'm a real fatty now.
I would like to think I'm not, but hey, someone I work with thinks I have some exercising to do...
But here's how the past two days have turned out:
Yesterday
Co-worker: What are you doing?
Me: Working
Co-worker: Is it a secret?
Me: Sure
Co-worker: Are you pregnant?
Me: Yes
Co-worker: Really? Swear to God?
Me: Yes
Me: I'm going to hell.
Me: Even he knows. (pointing to another nosy co-worker)
Co-worker: Congratulations!
Me: I'm not pregnant.
Co-worker: But you swore to God.
Me: I know.
Me: Go away!
Today
(A different co-worker): Are you pregnant?
Me: Have you been talking to (fill in name of above co-worker)?
Co-worker: No.
Me: I'm not.
Co-worker: Well, I thought because of your shirt...
Me; Oh, yeah, I guess it's flowy.
Co-worker: And you seem to have that bump.
Me; What??!
Co-worker: I mean, you could be 3 months along.
Me: WHAT????!
Me: How long have you thought I was pregnant?
Co-worker: About a month.
Me: Okay...
Co-worker: I've ruined your day--I'm sorry. Laughs.
Me: No, it's okay. I know my belly needs work.
Co-worker: Maybe it's muscle.
Me: Right.
***
Thanks! I feel great about my gut. Glad I work here, too.
Update
I've shared the horror story of today (see above) with others at the office. Mainly to share my shocked feelings, but to see if others think the same about me. I've been told I'm skinny and have a non-existant (someone even said concave) tummy. I'm not sure about that; I could put some butter on this one roll.
I'm also getting a lot of "How are you feeling? Don't lift anything. Have you picked out names?" jokes. I'm suprisingly not too upset but I wonder if you all think I'm a real fatty now.
I would like to think I'm not, but hey, someone I work with thinks I have some exercising to do...
23 March 2007
I'm bored
But not like I was at my last job when I surfed the Web for the majority of the day because well, there was absolutely nothing to do--nothing to make myself busy with and my boss was an advocate of keeping me thinking I was busy by doing "research" at the nearby bookstore which turned into looking at books to try and get into law school (hahahahaha!) and trying not to turn my head and look the other way across the street at the people rushing in and out of H&M for cute cheap bobbles.
No, I'm sick of the rut. But it's not the rut that you all describe--or maybe it is. The snoozing of the alarm a bazillion times a morning, just knowing that the extra 30 seconds (or what feels like 30 seconds) of sleep isn't going to help you feel any more rested. It's not the I know I can make it in before 9 or at 9 this morning but when you're drying your hair trying to look good for a Friday (yes, it's FRIDAY! Wahooo!), you think, I can be a few minutes late because I'm not going to have frizzy hair for going out later on tonight!
It's the work.
There's plenty of it.
But I feel like I've done and learned all I can.
And now it's the repetition.
The contracts.
The addenda.
The blah.
The "Hey! We're the greatest company on the Earth so just give us your content and we'll make you rich!" Well, I don't exactly say it like that--as I'm sure you could guess--but I'm sort of trying to disguise what it is I do for fear of my boss finding this : ) Even though there is a photo here and there of me on here : )
So anyway, I just feel burned out. I know I need the ever-important "vacation" but there's nothing here that makes me want to strive to do better--because--as you have heard me say before (or read what I've communicated before) there is no "up" in this job. As a newly created position in a marketing department where--gasp--I do no marketing (which is fine by me because I'm doing what I'd want to do if I had to pick it out of the entire company)--there is no umph, no desire. And with that, I wake up each morning thinking that at 10am I will have a shiny new email from Prospective Employer saying "Hey! We want you!" (because they are one hour behind us hence the email coming at 10) or I will see on my phone that I have a call from "Call"--this is how Prospective Employer's "name" shows up (as "Call"). Or perhaps while I was dragging boxes of books to production there will be a lovely voicemail from Prospective Employer saying "Please, Ripe, give us a call at your convenience."
Then, of course, I would have to wonder if they wanted me to call them back so that they could tell me the position has been filled.
And there's the whole am I putting all my eggs in one basket? UGH! The options for what I want to do here in good old Boston are limited--unless I move--which I am not in the forseeable future, unless of course it's to a house in a cute town in MA : )
It's been 2 weeks since the second interview and almost 3 since the first...One follow up email has been sent as of last Wednesday. Another was sent on Monday.
For now, I'll just have to keep my busy bored self occupied and allow the iced caramel latte to drown out the impatience I'm feeling.
Happy Weekend.
No, I'm sick of the rut. But it's not the rut that you all describe--or maybe it is. The snoozing of the alarm a bazillion times a morning, just knowing that the extra 30 seconds (or what feels like 30 seconds) of sleep isn't going to help you feel any more rested. It's not the I know I can make it in before 9 or at 9 this morning but when you're drying your hair trying to look good for a Friday (yes, it's FRIDAY! Wahooo!), you think, I can be a few minutes late because I'm not going to have frizzy hair for going out later on tonight!
It's the work.
There's plenty of it.
But I feel like I've done and learned all I can.
And now it's the repetition.
The contracts.
The addenda.
The blah.
The "Hey! We're the greatest company on the Earth so just give us your content and we'll make you rich!" Well, I don't exactly say it like that--as I'm sure you could guess--but I'm sort of trying to disguise what it is I do for fear of my boss finding this : ) Even though there is a photo here and there of me on here : )
So anyway, I just feel burned out. I know I need the ever-important "vacation" but there's nothing here that makes me want to strive to do better--because--as you have heard me say before (or read what I've communicated before) there is no "up" in this job. As a newly created position in a marketing department where--gasp--I do no marketing (which is fine by me because I'm doing what I'd want to do if I had to pick it out of the entire company)--there is no umph, no desire. And with that, I wake up each morning thinking that at 10am I will have a shiny new email from Prospective Employer saying "Hey! We want you!" (because they are one hour behind us hence the email coming at 10) or I will see on my phone that I have a call from "Call"--this is how Prospective Employer's "name" shows up (as "Call"). Or perhaps while I was dragging boxes of books to production there will be a lovely voicemail from Prospective Employer saying "Please, Ripe, give us a call at your convenience."
Then, of course, I would have to wonder if they wanted me to call them back so that they could tell me the position has been filled.
And there's the whole am I putting all my eggs in one basket? UGH! The options for what I want to do here in good old Boston are limited--unless I move--which I am not in the forseeable future, unless of course it's to a house in a cute town in MA : )
It's been 2 weeks since the second interview and almost 3 since the first...One follow up email has been sent as of last Wednesday. Another was sent on Monday.
For now, I'll just have to keep my busy bored self occupied and allow the iced caramel latte to drown out the impatience I'm feeling.
Happy Weekend.
22 March 2007
A Few Important Announcements
GD Prospective Employer has still not called and no longer feels the need to reply to my "I know patience is a virtue, but I'm curious--have you filled the position yet?" when I really just want to write "I know patience is a virtue, but how the fuck long does it take to make an offer when you said it was me and this other anonymous person interviwing for this job?"
While in the shower I thought--what if someone from my office applied for the job and they are so totally unsure of who to make the offer to? Then I thought that would be ridiculous and why would they care? Feel free to share both positive and negative scenarios here, people. I like the entertainment.
***
I go into a bookstore yesterday (instead of browsing on Amazon as Bub suggested I should) to find a book.
I was an English major, made to read the bad: Beowoulf (BLECH!) and the good (Uncle Tom's Cabin) and lots of others--those just stick out in my mind. I kept things straight. I did alright, people. I graduated and I'm better for it.
But put me in a bookstore--I go nuts. I don't know how to pick a book because I don't know what I like. At all. Give me a girly book and I'm like this is SO dumb, but I'll read Prep and love it. Give me a contemporary fiction something and I force myself through it. My sister says it's good--just stick with it. I want to believe her because she said the same thing about Memoirs from a Geisha and I enjoyed that one. But Middlesex? Didn't happen for me. I have a couple others like that too--books borrowed from friends that sit, collect dust, never allow their story to be told. Anyway, I am embarrassed I found something worth buying purely because it reminds me of a Lifetime movie on paper. But anyway, I'm already 100 pages into it so maybe this says something about my intellect being parallel to bad women's television dramas.
***
We just had a farewell lunch for a man who has been at our compay the second longest. Second longest at our office, that is. We took him to a restaurant and he drank some beers, made 2 speeches, said goodbye and thanks to me twice and so I asked him what's next. And in his pissed off demeanor, he replied that he's taking the rest of the year off (as if the "rest of the year" is a few weeks) and then he's going to reassess. He didn't return to the office after the lunch. And I am so jealous of him right now.
***
My boss actually thought I thought that fiscal year means the same thing as calendar year. But you see all I did was repeat a part of an email I got with a question that had nothing to do with fiscal years. You see she just thinks she's the shit except she might be if it wasn't for how she dresses. Oops. Anything zipped up over some sort of lingerie, I'm pretty sure is a no-no. Especially when you can see 3/4 of the lingerie (gross) and especially when it's not a sweatshirt or sweater being zipped up, but a shirt--a shirt that should button up. Return the shirt. Just do it.
***
I have big plans to do a couple of errands tonight sandwiched between my trip to the gym. But you see I've been meaning to get to the gym both Tuesday and Wednesday and for reasons I cannot control (American Idol and said book described above), I haven't been able to lure myself to put on my semi-new sneakers and drabby workout clothes that make me feel oh, so attractive. Tonight, though, that changes.
***
I've booked myself a Swedish massage as a pre-birthday gift to me. Since I feel poor going to a spa and paying for numerous services (waxing, nails, etc.), I have opted for a half hour massage. I'm still looking forward to it even though it's not a full hour. All I need to do is justify the facial that I'm also due for (it's been 9 months, people, it's time)--I think May or June is a great option for that, right as the warm weather starts to kick in.
***
This weekend, though, I don't yet have much planned--dinner with a friend on Friday and the usual items to get done on Saturday. I'm glad to hear it's going to be warm, but what about the rain?
***
This has turned into a long list of announcements. I do apologize for misleading you since these aren't really important ones--at least the Prospective Employer can agree--I'm not that important. But I think they're somewhat significant as they all relate to moi.
While in the shower I thought--what if someone from my office applied for the job and they are so totally unsure of who to make the offer to? Then I thought that would be ridiculous and why would they care? Feel free to share both positive and negative scenarios here, people. I like the entertainment.
***
I go into a bookstore yesterday (instead of browsing on Amazon as Bub suggested I should) to find a book.
I was an English major, made to read the bad: Beowoulf (BLECH!) and the good (Uncle Tom's Cabin) and lots of others--those just stick out in my mind. I kept things straight. I did alright, people. I graduated and I'm better for it.
But put me in a bookstore--I go nuts. I don't know how to pick a book because I don't know what I like. At all. Give me a girly book and I'm like this is SO dumb, but I'll read Prep and love it. Give me a contemporary fiction something and I force myself through it. My sister says it's good--just stick with it. I want to believe her because she said the same thing about Memoirs from a Geisha and I enjoyed that one. But Middlesex? Didn't happen for me. I have a couple others like that too--books borrowed from friends that sit, collect dust, never allow their story to be told. Anyway, I am embarrassed I found something worth buying purely because it reminds me of a Lifetime movie on paper. But anyway, I'm already 100 pages into it so maybe this says something about my intellect being parallel to bad women's television dramas.
***
We just had a farewell lunch for a man who has been at our compay the second longest. Second longest at our office, that is. We took him to a restaurant and he drank some beers, made 2 speeches, said goodbye and thanks to me twice and so I asked him what's next. And in his pissed off demeanor, he replied that he's taking the rest of the year off (as if the "rest of the year" is a few weeks) and then he's going to reassess. He didn't return to the office after the lunch. And I am so jealous of him right now.
***
My boss actually thought I thought that fiscal year means the same thing as calendar year. But you see all I did was repeat a part of an email I got with a question that had nothing to do with fiscal years. You see she just thinks she's the shit except she might be if it wasn't for how she dresses. Oops. Anything zipped up over some sort of lingerie, I'm pretty sure is a no-no. Especially when you can see 3/4 of the lingerie (gross) and especially when it's not a sweatshirt or sweater being zipped up, but a shirt--a shirt that should button up. Return the shirt. Just do it.
***
I have big plans to do a couple of errands tonight sandwiched between my trip to the gym. But you see I've been meaning to get to the gym both Tuesday and Wednesday and for reasons I cannot control (American Idol and said book described above), I haven't been able to lure myself to put on my semi-new sneakers and drabby workout clothes that make me feel oh, so attractive. Tonight, though, that changes.
***
I've booked myself a Swedish massage as a pre-birthday gift to me. Since I feel poor going to a spa and paying for numerous services (waxing, nails, etc.), I have opted for a half hour massage. I'm still looking forward to it even though it's not a full hour. All I need to do is justify the facial that I'm also due for (it's been 9 months, people, it's time)--I think May or June is a great option for that, right as the warm weather starts to kick in.
***
This weekend, though, I don't yet have much planned--dinner with a friend on Friday and the usual items to get done on Saturday. I'm glad to hear it's going to be warm, but what about the rain?
***
This has turned into a long list of announcements. I do apologize for misleading you since these aren't really important ones--at least the Prospective Employer can agree--I'm not that important. But I think they're somewhat significant as they all relate to moi.
18 March 2007
Weekend Top 10
1. Getting a really, really good manicure without being rushed, forced to pick a different "better" color, no crowd, and for cheap!
2. Finishing a slew of errands before the storm hit: groceries, bills, post office, and gym.
3. Baking fluffy and healthy blueberry muffins on Saturday morning for Bub so that he'd have something yummy to eat while he told me about his hiking trip.
4. Having an early evening on Saturday, discovering a new yummy beer, hanging at a noisy bar and feeling like we were the only ones there.
5. Getting up early today, seeing the sun shine into the quiet church, putting on our layers and getting ready for the race.
6. Running the 5k. Seeing Bub surprised that I caught up to him and then sprinting past lots of huffing and puffing and getting lost in the sea of green.
7. Beers at the bar after the race, talking with Bub's friends. Telling Italy stories, letting the buzz settle in.
8. Spicy onion rings and not feeling guilty about eating them after the run!
9. Napping in our layers after making it home from our early and jam-packed day.
10. Selecting wedding photos to purchase for framing; we'll finally have photos to display on the mantel when we move into a house.
2. Finishing a slew of errands before the storm hit: groceries, bills, post office, and gym.
3. Baking fluffy and healthy blueberry muffins on Saturday morning for Bub so that he'd have something yummy to eat while he told me about his hiking trip.
4. Having an early evening on Saturday, discovering a new yummy beer, hanging at a noisy bar and feeling like we were the only ones there.
5. Getting up early today, seeing the sun shine into the quiet church, putting on our layers and getting ready for the race.
6. Running the 5k. Seeing Bub surprised that I caught up to him and then sprinting past lots of huffing and puffing and getting lost in the sea of green.
7. Beers at the bar after the race, talking with Bub's friends. Telling Italy stories, letting the buzz settle in.
8. Spicy onion rings and not feeling guilty about eating them after the run!
9. Napping in our layers after making it home from our early and jam-packed day.
10. Selecting wedding photos to purchase for framing; we'll finally have photos to display on the mantel when we move into a house.
14 March 2007
This week is dragging but only because of work. And it's not the lack there of because there's certainly plenty of crap to do. It's just the rut. I couldn't be 100% happy today that it was nice out because this weekend, so I hear, will be like winter with snow and cold and blah.
I'm still waiting to hear from Prospective Employer. I couldn't resist sending a follow up email to the HR rep who arranged the interviews but who only phone interviewed me and will most likely never meet me in person because he works out of another distant office... So I did a little brief hey--thanks--just checking in. And he gave me a prompt thank you for checking in reply along with how he is waiting for feedback which is to come "shortly". MMMMmmmk. What does that mean? Feedback as in he needs the people I interviewed with to give feedback on us as in me and the one other final candidate or he needs to wait and hear that the other person accepted their offer? UGH.
Bub is off tomorrow evening to Mt. Washington to go on a hike with friends and a hired guide. He will climb in snow and ice and I will think warm thoughts while snuggling under a blanket. He won't return until late on Friday. Sigh. But then that means I can start in on season 5 of 24 since he has proven disinterested in Jack Bauer. I know, what a sin.
I'm looking forward to a fun St. Patty's weekend complete with a 5k and some beers, of course!
Until then, this week creeps. The suspense builds.
I'm still waiting to hear from Prospective Employer. I couldn't resist sending a follow up email to the HR rep who arranged the interviews but who only phone interviewed me and will most likely never meet me in person because he works out of another distant office... So I did a little brief hey--thanks--just checking in. And he gave me a prompt thank you for checking in reply along with how he is waiting for feedback which is to come "shortly". MMMMmmmk. What does that mean? Feedback as in he needs the people I interviewed with to give feedback on us as in me and the one other final candidate or he needs to wait and hear that the other person accepted their offer? UGH.
Bub is off tomorrow evening to Mt. Washington to go on a hike with friends and a hired guide. He will climb in snow and ice and I will think warm thoughts while snuggling under a blanket. He won't return until late on Friday. Sigh. But then that means I can start in on season 5 of 24 since he has proven disinterested in Jack Bauer. I know, what a sin.
I'm looking forward to a fun St. Patty's weekend complete with a 5k and some beers, of course!
Until then, this week creeps. The suspense builds.
11 March 2007
Translate for my gut
My weekend started off on a good note. I feel like I had a very good connection with the person who interviewed me during my final meeting with Prospective Employer.
This is the second time I've felt that I did not shake the interviwer's hand well. I did so upon departing his office before stepping into the elevator, but the first time was as if I couldn't grasp his hand and lock it in for my trademark one-up, one-down shake. I try not to let that set the tone for the questions and back-and-forth that is inevitable at an interview, and I feel that I managed to do well despite the weak hand clutch.
I like people who listen to me and take notes. Not only does it make me feel that I have important things to say, it shows the other person listens. This person took notes! He also did a lot of nodding and "yes" and "yup"-ing. I do that, too, which doesn't necessarily mean that the person is listening to you, but hey, at least they want to appear engaged. At least, I like to think so. I left feeling more excited about the position.
Lately, I feel as though I've been having job search depression. I am not content in my current position and my last position was very slow and there was hardly anything to do which should have been a flag to me since the office shut down after a mere seven month stint there. So it's been a while since I've really been connected and passionate and excited about work. There are certain perks about my job now, but there is, from what I can tell, no growth stream for me, no next step, if you will, which is a huge problem as far as where I want to be at this age in my career. I've known for a while, especially after attending trade shows, that I want to return to the types of companies I used to work for. Notice I wrote types, not that I want to work at the actual companies I used to once work for. No way.
So in this restless sort of tug-of-war I've had at jobs where I want to stay, make it work, enjoy it, I just feel like it's not fair to allow myself to be sucked up into an atmosphere like that when I know my heart is elsewhere.
So this is where my job depression enters: Where is elsewhere?
I thought it would be at this company I just interviewed with since I've tried many times to make something gel, to hope their HR people weren't as flaky as they seem, to make them see the light, that I can do this job! But I knew that they would continue to search, drag their heels, find someone more aligned with what they're looking for. Fine.
And now this job comes up. And I'm nervous. "Go with your gut" people say. "Are you crazy, you aren't sure you want this?"
My mother is one of the only people who seems to sense my hesitation: Is this what you really want?
I guess I'm just worried because even though it's publishing, it's a different beast in a way. And since so many of my skills translate into this available position, well, does that mean I'll have to keep re-using those same skills, the ones I acquired in my present job to do non-fun stuff in this next job? Or will it be fun stuff? Or will it just be stuff like stuff everyone has to do at work because it's work?
I'm looking for passion, people. I just thought I'd be closer to it at 26 years old. A month and a day away from 27, too...
I don't know what I'm afraid of. I usually have no trouble jumping into something with both feet, but for some reason, I'm freaking out! So then is THAT a sign that this is a bad move? Someone translate for my gut, please.
I guess I have no decision to make unless they make me an offer.
To be continued.
This is the second time I've felt that I did not shake the interviwer's hand well. I did so upon departing his office before stepping into the elevator, but the first time was as if I couldn't grasp his hand and lock it in for my trademark one-up, one-down shake. I try not to let that set the tone for the questions and back-and-forth that is inevitable at an interview, and I feel that I managed to do well despite the weak hand clutch.
I like people who listen to me and take notes. Not only does it make me feel that I have important things to say, it shows the other person listens. This person took notes! He also did a lot of nodding and "yes" and "yup"-ing. I do that, too, which doesn't necessarily mean that the person is listening to you, but hey, at least they want to appear engaged. At least, I like to think so. I left feeling more excited about the position.
Lately, I feel as though I've been having job search depression. I am not content in my current position and my last position was very slow and there was hardly anything to do which should have been a flag to me since the office shut down after a mere seven month stint there. So it's been a while since I've really been connected and passionate and excited about work. There are certain perks about my job now, but there is, from what I can tell, no growth stream for me, no next step, if you will, which is a huge problem as far as where I want to be at this age in my career. I've known for a while, especially after attending trade shows, that I want to return to the types of companies I used to work for. Notice I wrote types, not that I want to work at the actual companies I used to once work for. No way.
So in this restless sort of tug-of-war I've had at jobs where I want to stay, make it work, enjoy it, I just feel like it's not fair to allow myself to be sucked up into an atmosphere like that when I know my heart is elsewhere.
So this is where my job depression enters: Where is elsewhere?
I thought it would be at this company I just interviewed with since I've tried many times to make something gel, to hope their HR people weren't as flaky as they seem, to make them see the light, that I can do this job! But I knew that they would continue to search, drag their heels, find someone more aligned with what they're looking for. Fine.
And now this job comes up. And I'm nervous. "Go with your gut" people say. "Are you crazy, you aren't sure you want this?"
My mother is one of the only people who seems to sense my hesitation: Is this what you really want?
I guess I'm just worried because even though it's publishing, it's a different beast in a way. And since so many of my skills translate into this available position, well, does that mean I'll have to keep re-using those same skills, the ones I acquired in my present job to do non-fun stuff in this next job? Or will it be fun stuff? Or will it just be stuff like stuff everyone has to do at work because it's work?
I'm looking for passion, people. I just thought I'd be closer to it at 26 years old. A month and a day away from 27, too...
I don't know what I'm afraid of. I usually have no trouble jumping into something with both feet, but for some reason, I'm freaking out! So then is THAT a sign that this is a bad move? Someone translate for my gut, please.
I guess I have no decision to make unless they make me an offer.
To be continued.
07 March 2007
I like to think I'm the type of person who knows what she wants.
Got the job before graduating college...check.
Got promotion...check.
Found new job to escape current work hell...check.
Found new job within a month after new job's office closed...check.
Found another new job to escape current work "situation"...semi-check.
I am dwelling. I am stressing. I haven't even been offered the position yet. Daily Editor offers advice. (Thanks Daily Editor!) Others offer advice. Bub tells me to slow down--first things first.
I talked to an old co-worker who I haven't spoken to in three years who holds the position I am applying for, but in a different capacity. She reassures me, I am doing all the right things.
Knock on wood.
I get so competitive.
I get ahead of myself. I just want the option to choose what's next.
I hate final interviews. Eww.
I want my parents to tell me what to do next.
Bedtime is in less than 15 minutes. Up early for the gym, then for another day's work and another day until the interview.
Is it the weekned yet?
Got the job before graduating college...check.
Got promotion...check.
Found new job to escape current work hell...check.
Found new job within a month after new job's office closed...check.
Found another new job to escape current work "situation"...semi-check.
I am dwelling. I am stressing. I haven't even been offered the position yet. Daily Editor offers advice. (Thanks Daily Editor!) Others offer advice. Bub tells me to slow down--first things first.
I talked to an old co-worker who I haven't spoken to in three years who holds the position I am applying for, but in a different capacity. She reassures me, I am doing all the right things.
Knock on wood.
I get so competitive.
I get ahead of myself. I just want the option to choose what's next.
I hate final interviews. Eww.
I want my parents to tell me what to do next.
Bedtime is in less than 15 minutes. Up early for the gym, then for another day's work and another day until the interview.
Is it the weekned yet?
05 March 2007
meh
It was a good day off today.
I didn't sleep in since I had a doctor's appointment. I couldn't relax afterwards since I had to prepare mentally and physically for the interview.
And I just don't know what to say.
Is it what I want? Do I have a choice as to whether or not it can be mine? Did they like me enough? Did I like the job enough? Do I want to make the move? Is it right? What is right? What next? What will I do if I get an offer? How will I feel when I don't get an offer? Is my theoretical boss good in theory?
Is it what I want? Where's the crystal ball? Where's the person telling me what to do? What is right? What is right?
Isn't this the company I've tried interviewing at three times now? Isn't this the place that is so exclusive and difficult to crack? Is it worth it? Or is it a silent nightmare? Is there anything creative about this job? I don't think so--but isn't that what I wanted? But what's my next move, my next option, my better offer if this isn't it? I'm not accounting material. I'm not finance.
I'm lazy. And slow. And burned out. I want my bakery and frosting and fun purses and sunshine. I want red wine on the porch in the evening.
Pushing a stroller on a spring afternoon. Tucking her into sleep at night. Ironing in front of the television like my mother.
What is logical? Who is judging me?
I am.
I didn't sleep in since I had a doctor's appointment. I couldn't relax afterwards since I had to prepare mentally and physically for the interview.
And I just don't know what to say.
Is it what I want? Do I have a choice as to whether or not it can be mine? Did they like me enough? Did I like the job enough? Do I want to make the move? Is it right? What is right? What next? What will I do if I get an offer? How will I feel when I don't get an offer? Is my theoretical boss good in theory?
Is it what I want? Where's the crystal ball? Where's the person telling me what to do? What is right? What is right?
Isn't this the company I've tried interviewing at three times now? Isn't this the place that is so exclusive and difficult to crack? Is it worth it? Or is it a silent nightmare? Is there anything creative about this job? I don't think so--but isn't that what I wanted? But what's my next move, my next option, my better offer if this isn't it? I'm not accounting material. I'm not finance.
I'm lazy. And slow. And burned out. I want my bakery and frosting and fun purses and sunshine. I want red wine on the porch in the evening.
Pushing a stroller on a spring afternoon. Tucking her into sleep at night. Ironing in front of the television like my mother.
What is logical? Who is judging me?
I am.
02 March 2007
One hour away
I'm one hour away...
from a long weekend to which I will not feel guilty that I have so much work and that I'm taking the day off on Monday. Besides, the idea of a new job sounds like a better way to think about work. And since my interview is that day, I shall stress about that and not how full my inbox will be on Tuesday.
from seeing best friends for dinner. I'm not looking forward to trekking through the rain, especially when I'm tired and wanted to hit the gym, but there is no time in between for that. Not that I'm complaining too much about not working out, but the Chinese food I ate yesterday and the potential dessert I may consume tonight will be reason enough to make me feel like a guilty cow.
from checking on my gash on my right leg. I managed to use the stupid, pink, CVS-brand razor that I knew I should have trashed because they suck. They SUCK! And as I was drying off on the shower mat, I noticed blood. I knew I had a cut; I could feel it for goodness' sake, but DUDE! This was like I tripped on an axe with my ankle. Damn razor.
And the clock ticks...
from a long weekend to which I will not feel guilty that I have so much work and that I'm taking the day off on Monday. Besides, the idea of a new job sounds like a better way to think about work. And since my interview is that day, I shall stress about that and not how full my inbox will be on Tuesday.
from seeing best friends for dinner. I'm not looking forward to trekking through the rain, especially when I'm tired and wanted to hit the gym, but there is no time in between for that. Not that I'm complaining too much about not working out, but the Chinese food I ate yesterday and the potential dessert I may consume tonight will be reason enough to make me feel like a guilty cow.
from checking on my gash on my right leg. I managed to use the stupid, pink, CVS-brand razor that I knew I should have trashed because they suck. They SUCK! And as I was drying off on the shower mat, I noticed blood. I knew I had a cut; I could feel it for goodness' sake, but DUDE! This was like I tripped on an axe with my ankle. Damn razor.
And the clock ticks...
01 March 2007
The List
I make lists at home concerning things I must do each day, each week, especially over the weekend. Then there are the work lists. For the day, week, in general.
When I start doodling on my list, highlighting left and right, and crossing things off (which doesn't happen often enough), I have to start again. New paper, new list. It's exhausting.
You know what else is exhausting? This week. And I wasn't particularly busy. I mean I could have been busier, doing things on my list! However, 24 has presided over this (we just started Netflixing the 4th season and yes, we are already addicted), the cold winter air has kept me under blankets on the couch (big shocker there). Wine (another big shocker), downloading new songs (where is the new song with Timbaland, Nelly, and Justin?), being lazy--those were more important than finishing our picks for our wedding album (because we're four months away from the one-year mark!), cleaning the parts of the condo that weren't tidied this weekend (zzzzzzz), writing a sample to send in with my application to the writer's conference (and what will that be about?), looking at more than 2 Web sites for a new job (but I do have an interview!), amongst other to-do things. But do you know what? I'm okay with it. Really.
And tomorrow's Friday (as if you weren't already counting down the hours until the weekend).
When I start doodling on my list, highlighting left and right, and crossing things off (which doesn't happen often enough), I have to start again. New paper, new list. It's exhausting.
You know what else is exhausting? This week. And I wasn't particularly busy. I mean I could have been busier, doing things on my list! However, 24 has presided over this (we just started Netflixing the 4th season and yes, we are already addicted), the cold winter air has kept me under blankets on the couch (big shocker there). Wine (another big shocker), downloading new songs (where is the new song with Timbaland, Nelly, and Justin?), being lazy--those were more important than finishing our picks for our wedding album (because we're four months away from the one-year mark!), cleaning the parts of the condo that weren't tidied this weekend (zzzzzzz), writing a sample to send in with my application to the writer's conference (and what will that be about?), looking at more than 2 Web sites for a new job (but I do have an interview!), amongst other to-do things. But do you know what? I'm okay with it. Really.
And tomorrow's Friday (as if you weren't already counting down the hours until the weekend).
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.
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.
Plans
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.
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.
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...
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
Home
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.
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
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.
Love,
me
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.
Love,
me
09 February 2007
Dreaming
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.
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.
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
Bitter
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.
Boo!
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.
Boo!
06 February 2007
bits
...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?
...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.
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
Hi,
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?
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?
28 January 2007
The Weekend has me thinking
On Friday's drive home from the second doctor's appointment that week I ended up talking to my mother and getting frustrated so easily again and it made me sad. When I hung up I wondered how things had become so difficult and why it is so hard to get through the little things I wanted to say. Sometimes I wonder if I still act like a teenager with her.
Instead of copping out on seeing old, great, best friends for dinner in the city, I agreed to venture out into the arctic chill to meet them. For the first part of dinner I felt distant; I couldn't stop feeling stressed about work. The mistake. Was my boss going to be angry with me on Monday after skipping out of work early again, leaving her with the outstanding issues, the inconsistencies of our quarterly process?
I started wondering if it was my anxiousness and anxiety about work and about my mother which made me believe that I was beginning to feel like the third wheel with friends. I hung out with them so many times over the years, they have seen me grow up from emaciated to out of control, from a child into a woman.
I got a stomach ache that night and learned to keep it under wraps after so many miserable outings of feeling sick and being worried about drawing attention from others. I ended up telling of my evening to bub, sleepy on the couch, late that night.
The next morning was easier. The gym was temporarily therapeutic, the sweat and work I put my body through to shed the stress and anxiety of work. Had my last email to my boss at 12:33am that morning been curt, rude? I read and reread.
We went to church and I listed to how we each have a mission to fulfill. An easy homily. An easy rule. Hard to figure out, apparently. I watched the woman on the podium rub her eyes; she can't see. She clutches onto the chairs as she feels for her safety.
We go out last night for a date and do not cop out and watch movies on t.v. until much later, after drinks at a remote bar. Its dark shadows, brick walls, dim lanterns make me feel like we're tourists at a trendy bar in a faraway place. Paris. Spain. I've never been there.
The air is warmer.
We see houses today. We are filled with hope. We don't feel the future lingering. We know we won't share the space with our children. It's not right.
It's not perfect.
We see my parents and I wonder if I'm too harsh with my demands for an upstairs/downstairs house, not a ranch, one with a porch, garage, and yard. That their new room could be a master bedroom. I laugh, my mother makes a noise and I wonder if my joke wasn't a joke to her.
My dad is lively and my mom sends us with scones, a recipe for them, and love. My dad and I hug goodbye and he comes back for another one and then another one.
I wonder if they're okay.
I wonder if I am.
And there's the laundry to do.
Now.
Instead of copping out on seeing old, great, best friends for dinner in the city, I agreed to venture out into the arctic chill to meet them. For the first part of dinner I felt distant; I couldn't stop feeling stressed about work. The mistake. Was my boss going to be angry with me on Monday after skipping out of work early again, leaving her with the outstanding issues, the inconsistencies of our quarterly process?
I started wondering if it was my anxiousness and anxiety about work and about my mother which made me believe that I was beginning to feel like the third wheel with friends. I hung out with them so many times over the years, they have seen me grow up from emaciated to out of control, from a child into a woman.
I got a stomach ache that night and learned to keep it under wraps after so many miserable outings of feeling sick and being worried about drawing attention from others. I ended up telling of my evening to bub, sleepy on the couch, late that night.
The next morning was easier. The gym was temporarily therapeutic, the sweat and work I put my body through to shed the stress and anxiety of work. Had my last email to my boss at 12:33am that morning been curt, rude? I read and reread.
We went to church and I listed to how we each have a mission to fulfill. An easy homily. An easy rule. Hard to figure out, apparently. I watched the woman on the podium rub her eyes; she can't see. She clutches onto the chairs as she feels for her safety.
We go out last night for a date and do not cop out and watch movies on t.v. until much later, after drinks at a remote bar. Its dark shadows, brick walls, dim lanterns make me feel like we're tourists at a trendy bar in a faraway place. Paris. Spain. I've never been there.
The air is warmer.
We see houses today. We are filled with hope. We don't feel the future lingering. We know we won't share the space with our children. It's not right.
It's not perfect.
We see my parents and I wonder if I'm too harsh with my demands for an upstairs/downstairs house, not a ranch, one with a porch, garage, and yard. That their new room could be a master bedroom. I laugh, my mother makes a noise and I wonder if my joke wasn't a joke to her.
My dad is lively and my mom sends us with scones, a recipe for them, and love. My dad and I hug goodbye and he comes back for another one and then another one.
I wonder if they're okay.
I wonder if I am.
And there's the laundry to do.
Now.
25 January 2007
Bad writer
I just feel like one. And I've had the pleasure of consuming three glasses of Syrah, but don't worry, my last dose of Sudafed has already worn off...and yes, the ear is still blocked.
So I came across this video tonight on one of my past (and still present) favorite sites (hint, hint brides!), wedding bee.
I was never this out of control and hopefully no one--and I mean NO ONE will ever embarrass themselves like this (wedding or otherwise)! Geesh.
So I came across this video tonight on one of my past (and still present) favorite sites (hint, hint brides!), wedding bee.
I was never this out of control and hopefully no one--and I mean NO ONE will ever embarrass themselves like this (wedding or otherwise)! Geesh.
24 January 2007
Under is over
Hi,
I'm still not feeling very well. Left ear is still blocked and throat is weird, too. No strep though, but wait a minute, 12-year-old-looking doctor didn't even give me a test for that, so he could be wrong and inexperienced and wrong.
So I take Sudafed and Benadryl, as prescribed. He was so helpful, he wrote that down on a piece of computer paper for me, reminding me that those are not prescription drugs.
Hi, I don't live in a hole, I think I know that.
So, he says I'll feel better this morning as in today as in by now I should feel smashing. Except wait, I stayed home today. Yes, stayed home. Stayed home sick.
Ear is still blocked.
Anyway, speed things up to something exciting. We just finished watching the last episode ever of 6 Feet Under. Except we thought there was one more season and then wait, we started to see everyone dying. And it was morbid, but wait, that is like 90% of the show's premise.
Anyway, I want to write to the creator because the show was really...different...and I'm definitely going to have withdrawls.
Withdrawls with a blocked ear. Yeah.
I'm still not feeling very well. Left ear is still blocked and throat is weird, too. No strep though, but wait a minute, 12-year-old-looking doctor didn't even give me a test for that, so he could be wrong and inexperienced and wrong.
So I take Sudafed and Benadryl, as prescribed. He was so helpful, he wrote that down on a piece of computer paper for me, reminding me that those are not prescription drugs.
Hi, I don't live in a hole, I think I know that.
So, he says I'll feel better this morning as in today as in by now I should feel smashing. Except wait, I stayed home today. Yes, stayed home. Stayed home sick.
Ear is still blocked.
Anyway, speed things up to something exciting. We just finished watching the last episode ever of 6 Feet Under. Except we thought there was one more season and then wait, we started to see everyone dying. And it was morbid, but wait, that is like 90% of the show's premise.
Anyway, I want to write to the creator because the show was really...different...and I'm definitely going to have withdrawls.
Withdrawls with a blocked ear. Yeah.
23 January 2007
Leaving soon
Yup, I did it. I told my boss:
Hey, my ear is blocked and my throat feels weird... Hey! I'm sick!
And she told me to do what I have to do (after searching my eyes for any clues that I might be lying-which I am NOT) because after asking the urgent care nurse to repeat herself 4 times since my left ear is blocked (and I'm a lefty, thank you), I am leaving soon to drive 1 hour to my primary care physician's office, which is a hospital, which is OUT OF THE WAY to see another doctor-because you guessed it-my doctor isn't working and oh, they can't refer me to another closer office because of dumb, hospital, healthcare, yucky rules and so I get to see one Dr. F. Because Ripe just might have strep since apparently all the symptoms are there.
Great.
Hey, my ear is blocked and my throat feels weird... Hey! I'm sick!
And she told me to do what I have to do (after searching my eyes for any clues that I might be lying-which I am NOT) because after asking the urgent care nurse to repeat herself 4 times since my left ear is blocked (and I'm a lefty, thank you), I am leaving soon to drive 1 hour to my primary care physician's office, which is a hospital, which is OUT OF THE WAY to see another doctor-because you guessed it-my doctor isn't working and oh, they can't refer me to another closer office because of dumb, hospital, healthcare, yucky rules and so I get to see one Dr. F. Because Ripe just might have strep since apparently all the symptoms are there.
Great.
22 January 2007
Update
I had a good weekend despite the head cold which hasn't left, but has changed.
I now think I have an ear ache. I can't really hear out of my left ear and it's so bizarre because I rarely have ear issues aside from a little water in there from swimming during the summer.
Since winter has finally arrived and my toes are still frozen from this morning's trek across the parking lot and into my office, you all now know that water (from swimming) is not found in my ear.
But I want this to go away because I do not want to see my doctor. She is not only inconvenient by working like one day a week since she's supermommy, she works in a busy hospital which means I battle ambulances and every medical worker moseying around to get to the parking garage and then there's the parking in there which can take years, the long haul through multiple floors only to find her office where some old person sits, stares at you, complains of something and says my appointment was at _______ and fills in a time hours before yours, making you think that making an appointment is a complete waste of time.
The good news:
We had our carpets cleaned on Saturday and they look like new. Not as in they look good, they look NEW
We received our parents' wedding albums on Saturday, which came out quite lovely.
Today is our 6-month wedding anniversary : )
I now think I have an ear ache. I can't really hear out of my left ear and it's so bizarre because I rarely have ear issues aside from a little water in there from swimming during the summer.
Since winter has finally arrived and my toes are still frozen from this morning's trek across the parking lot and into my office, you all now know that water (from swimming) is not found in my ear.
But I want this to go away because I do not want to see my doctor. She is not only inconvenient by working like one day a week since she's supermommy, she works in a busy hospital which means I battle ambulances and every medical worker moseying around to get to the parking garage and then there's the parking in there which can take years, the long haul through multiple floors only to find her office where some old person sits, stares at you, complains of something and says my appointment was at _______ and fills in a time hours before yours, making you think that making an appointment is a complete waste of time.
The good news:
We had our carpets cleaned on Saturday and they look like new. Not as in they look good, they look NEW
We received our parents' wedding albums on Saturday, which came out quite lovely.
Today is our 6-month wedding anniversary : )
19 January 2007
Trying to fight it
But I'm sick.
My throat has been sore for the past 2 days. I've felt useless at work because my head kills, my eyes ache, and I just don't care. Oh, and those chills? I've got them.
But I won't go home. I feel like I'll be thought of as a cop out.
Oh, she's sick. Yeah, on a Friday afternoon--isn't that sort of sudden? Hmmm.
Because I am the worst at showing symptoms. I usually just say I don't feel well and people stand back but I don't sound funny nor is my nose running--yet. And so people forget that I don't feel good--don't sound bad enough to need to go home. And the thing is that I usually don't like to tell people I don't feel well. Because I hate that standing back thing people do when I tell them I might be getting the flu. And I just hate the empty words of "hope you feel better" when I know they're thinking well, she sounds and looks normal.
I hate telling my boss if I ever have to leave early or come in late or if I'm sick. I feel like she thinks I'm lying, that I just want to get out of something, or that I'm preparing to go home, change into a suit and head off to an intense interview.
Right. That's never the case. I mean, it hasn't been in a while.
My last interview was after work hours, anyway.
My throat has been sore for the past 2 days. I've felt useless at work because my head kills, my eyes ache, and I just don't care. Oh, and those chills? I've got them.
But I won't go home. I feel like I'll be thought of as a cop out.
Oh, she's sick. Yeah, on a Friday afternoon--isn't that sort of sudden? Hmmm.
Because I am the worst at showing symptoms. I usually just say I don't feel well and people stand back but I don't sound funny nor is my nose running--yet. And so people forget that I don't feel good--don't sound bad enough to need to go home. And the thing is that I usually don't like to tell people I don't feel well. Because I hate that standing back thing people do when I tell them I might be getting the flu. And I just hate the empty words of "hope you feel better" when I know they're thinking well, she sounds and looks normal.
I hate telling my boss if I ever have to leave early or come in late or if I'm sick. I feel like she thinks I'm lying, that I just want to get out of something, or that I'm preparing to go home, change into a suit and head off to an intense interview.
Right. That's never the case. I mean, it hasn't been in a while.
My last interview was after work hours, anyway.
16 January 2007
I was that girl
I was that girl who, after 10 years, returned to an orthodontist's office to have molds made for new retainers.
I looked at Alberto straight in the face in my most grown up way ever and asked for blue retainers and questioned if I should get sparkles or not because, well, I am 26 after all.
He said he thought they were cute, so I went for it.
Alberto definitely glanced at my chest too. I totally caught him. And it's not like I was wearing some tight cleavage bearing shirt (hello? I was off to work straight after the appointment). Maybe he wanted to remind me that I'm not a kid and that I'm probably their only adult patient.
I pick up my retainers next week.
*
I was that girl who, after any doctor's appointment--even the dentist--even the orthodontist--will find a coffee shop (most likely a Starbucks because hey, is anyone original out there who makes coffee?).
After ordering a nice yummy soy mocha in a size larger than I usually get because hey, I get to get blue sparkles retainers that will cost me over $1,000 (yes, you read that right--and it's not even a fun thing I'm buying here--and yes--I do have insurance--but even after they pay what they claim they'll pay--it'll still be a bill worth more than a nice shopping spree for me), I start walking to my car because I'm a good girl and even though I skipped the gym these past few days I figured, I can walk a block or so back to my car sans gloves, holding my toasty drink and that can be my lame attempt at morning exercise. But wait, my shoe had to start sliding off; damn slingbacks! So, in the graceful way that I do things I gave myself a little surprise and perfectly dripped coffee down my coat and on my sleeve and yeah, all over my hand. Okay, I say to myself. Okay. The coat is black. No sweat. But as I continue my walk back to the car that now seems like a very looong way, my hands are now numbing and I realize: No, no. I can't wait. This soy stuff will dry on my coat and how can I let that happen? And knowing full well that as soon as I get to the car that there is a napkin waiting for me in my lunch bag, I stop anyway--about a dozen parking spots away from my car. I perch in front of some still-closed-because-it's-too-early-in-the-morning-business and I was that girl.
I was that girl who was using a maxi pad to wipe up her soy mocha which had splattered on her coat and sleeve and hand.
And I'm okay with it. I am an adult just cleaning up a mess and to me a sanitary napkin is just for that very emergency.
Luckily when I made it to the office nothing happened that made me feel like I was 13 again, getting braces and having people poke around my teeth to see what fun ugly wires and elastics and head gear they could fit inside (and outside) my head. And there, when I finally got around to eating my lunch, was my trusty napkin.
What a relief.
I looked at Alberto straight in the face in my most grown up way ever and asked for blue retainers and questioned if I should get sparkles or not because, well, I am 26 after all.
He said he thought they were cute, so I went for it.
Alberto definitely glanced at my chest too. I totally caught him. And it's not like I was wearing some tight cleavage bearing shirt (hello? I was off to work straight after the appointment). Maybe he wanted to remind me that I'm not a kid and that I'm probably their only adult patient.
I pick up my retainers next week.
*
I was that girl who, after any doctor's appointment--even the dentist--even the orthodontist--will find a coffee shop (most likely a Starbucks because hey, is anyone original out there who makes coffee?).
After ordering a nice yummy soy mocha in a size larger than I usually get because hey, I get to get blue sparkles retainers that will cost me over $1,000 (yes, you read that right--and it's not even a fun thing I'm buying here--and yes--I do have insurance--but even after they pay what they claim they'll pay--it'll still be a bill worth more than a nice shopping spree for me), I start walking to my car because I'm a good girl and even though I skipped the gym these past few days I figured, I can walk a block or so back to my car sans gloves, holding my toasty drink and that can be my lame attempt at morning exercise. But wait, my shoe had to start sliding off; damn slingbacks! So, in the graceful way that I do things I gave myself a little surprise and perfectly dripped coffee down my coat and on my sleeve and yeah, all over my hand. Okay, I say to myself. Okay. The coat is black. No sweat. But as I continue my walk back to the car that now seems like a very looong way, my hands are now numbing and I realize: No, no. I can't wait. This soy stuff will dry on my coat and how can I let that happen? And knowing full well that as soon as I get to the car that there is a napkin waiting for me in my lunch bag, I stop anyway--about a dozen parking spots away from my car. I perch in front of some still-closed-because-it's-too-early-in-the-morning-business and I was that girl.
I was that girl who was using a maxi pad to wipe up her soy mocha which had splattered on her coat and sleeve and hand.
And I'm okay with it. I am an adult just cleaning up a mess and to me a sanitary napkin is just for that very emergency.
Luckily when I made it to the office nothing happened that made me feel like I was 13 again, getting braces and having people poke around my teeth to see what fun ugly wires and elastics and head gear they could fit inside (and outside) my head. And there, when I finally got around to eating my lunch, was my trusty napkin.
What a relief.
13 January 2007
iThis and iThat and this lurking business
This will be quick or else I'll be late. And we all know how I do well with being on time (I slipped a few times this week as far as being on time for work goes).
So, a couple of things:
The iPhone came up an alarmingly crazy number of times yesterday. I'm all for a cool phone, but sometimes you have to remember that hey, it's a phone! Make calls and go to your computer when you want to be a media maniac.
Second, I got a shuffle for Christmas and as daily editor knows, I love it. It's perfect. It makes me move at the gym (although I'm not sure I'll have time to make it there today. The excuses never end!) But I have yet to download a number of items. So so far, I've just bought some new stuff. So, little cyberspace buddies, please recommend your favorite song to work out to here! I really want a fun and different repertoire of tunes.
Happy Weekend!
RFR
So, a couple of things:
The iPhone came up an alarmingly crazy number of times yesterday. I'm all for a cool phone, but sometimes you have to remember that hey, it's a phone! Make calls and go to your computer when you want to be a media maniac.
Second, I got a shuffle for Christmas and as daily editor knows, I love it. It's perfect. It makes me move at the gym (although I'm not sure I'll have time to make it there today. The excuses never end!) But I have yet to download a number of items. So so far, I've just bought some new stuff. So, little cyberspace buddies, please recommend your favorite song to work out to here! I really want a fun and different repertoire of tunes.
Happy Weekend!
RFR
12 January 2007
Asshat
It's Friday, ya'll. I hear this word "Asshat" more and more and I have to say I like it.
But not as much as fuck face. OK. No more cursing now.
So yes, it's Friday. I'm in the office for 1/2 a day today as I am off to a meeting off-site early this afternoon. And afterwards I'll be so close to home that I won't be returning to the office (yay!) and instead, I'll go to the jewelry store where bub and I purchased our wedding bands. Because after so much talk of people getting engaged recently...ahem...you know who you are...you have inspired me to get my rings steam cleaned and to have a reason to talk jewelry talk with...well...jewelry people. I am very good about cleaning my rings, but sometimes you just need them steamed, you know?
***
I was feeling quite sick yesterday evening so as to cancel plans with a friend who I have not seen in quite a while. It was quite the scene. Bub comes home to find me on the couch in my work clothes with a blanket up to my chin watching Flashdance as though I had never seen it before. I would not talk to him except during commercials (which is so not me) until I realized that that was silly. I've seen the movie before and I haven't seen my husband all day and it's important that despite my not feeling well, that I hear him out and learn what sorts of things I missed.
Then I turned into a couch bug. I would not get up. So bub had to pry me off the couch. Then I stuck to him in one of those hugs that means don't let me go. I hurt. I'm cold. I have aches.
So he said let's get you in your PJ's. And he started to help me put on my pink fleece sleep things and I thought this is good practice for him if we should ever have kids. He started to pull my turtleneck sweater off when I realized that my hair was going with it. I screamed in pain. Then I told him how this is was supposed to be in preparation if we were to have a daughter some day and he said I don't think I would be taking off my daughter's bra.
And that was the end of that.
But not as much as fuck face. OK. No more cursing now.
So yes, it's Friday. I'm in the office for 1/2 a day today as I am off to a meeting off-site early this afternoon. And afterwards I'll be so close to home that I won't be returning to the office (yay!) and instead, I'll go to the jewelry store where bub and I purchased our wedding bands. Because after so much talk of people getting engaged recently...ahem...you know who you are...you have inspired me to get my rings steam cleaned and to have a reason to talk jewelry talk with...well...jewelry people. I am very good about cleaning my rings, but sometimes you just need them steamed, you know?
***
I was feeling quite sick yesterday evening so as to cancel plans with a friend who I have not seen in quite a while. It was quite the scene. Bub comes home to find me on the couch in my work clothes with a blanket up to my chin watching Flashdance as though I had never seen it before. I would not talk to him except during commercials (which is so not me) until I realized that that was silly. I've seen the movie before and I haven't seen my husband all day and it's important that despite my not feeling well, that I hear him out and learn what sorts of things I missed.
Then I turned into a couch bug. I would not get up. So bub had to pry me off the couch. Then I stuck to him in one of those hugs that means don't let me go. I hurt. I'm cold. I have aches.
So he said let's get you in your PJ's. And he started to help me put on my pink fleece sleep things and I thought this is good practice for him if we should ever have kids. He started to pull my turtleneck sweater off when I realized that my hair was going with it. I screamed in pain. Then I told him how this is was supposed to be in preparation if we were to have a daughter some day and he said I don't think I would be taking off my daughter's bra.
And that was the end of that.
08 January 2007
i pulled into the parking lot at exactly 9:03 this morning. i looked at the clock on my phone at my desk and it said 9:07. this is my exact arrival time, but there's a slight possibility that i arrived one minute earlier (9:06) seeing as how i did not look at the phone clock at the exact moment i got to my desk. no, i took off my rain slick coat, put down my bags, including lunch, and proceeded to open my laptop bag.
i'm going to forgive myself for being a little tardy because it's raining in a psycho manner outside.
we had our christmas gift exchange with my family yesterday. i got this yummy tea i was hoping santa would purchase for me. it's heaven, really. we also got a new dvd player as ours died and it was very difficult watching episodes of Six Feet Under on a small computer screen and not being able to pop in your wedding video to check out the way people looked as bub and i declared our love for one another.
the other day, i discovered a cool 'shared blog': Indie Bloggers. they're actually looking for creative pieces to post and they can be posts you've already posted in your blog. the thing is, there might 1 or 2 pieces only out of my entire blog, which was started in the fall of 05 that might get a read, but might get tossed to the general posts page--or looked over completely.
the thing is, i need to get more creative. but it's been a struggle to do so here. sometimes it's forced. sometimes i just want to bitch and moan. sometimes i just want to be me, and making sure i have no spelling mistakes and decent grammar is all i can handle.
so one of my resolutions is to take it up a notch. i'm not sure how, but maybe you'll let me know when i have.
i'm going to forgive myself for being a little tardy because it's raining in a psycho manner outside.
we had our christmas gift exchange with my family yesterday. i got this yummy tea i was hoping santa would purchase for me. it's heaven, really. we also got a new dvd player as ours died and it was very difficult watching episodes of Six Feet Under on a small computer screen and not being able to pop in your wedding video to check out the way people looked as bub and i declared our love for one another.
the other day, i discovered a cool 'shared blog': Indie Bloggers. they're actually looking for creative pieces to post and they can be posts you've already posted in your blog. the thing is, there might 1 or 2 pieces only out of my entire blog, which was started in the fall of 05 that might get a read, but might get tossed to the general posts page--or looked over completely.
the thing is, i need to get more creative. but it's been a struggle to do so here. sometimes it's forced. sometimes i just want to bitch and moan. sometimes i just want to be me, and making sure i have no spelling mistakes and decent grammar is all i can handle.
so one of my resolutions is to take it up a notch. i'm not sure how, but maybe you'll let me know when i have.
07 January 2007
eh
whenever i order Thai food, I can't steer clear from the damn drunken noodles. the place we agreed to catch up and discuss bikini waxes, periods and how our friend doesn't get one when she's lying down in bed until the next morning was a new try since it's near one of my best friend's new house.
i'm slightly inebriated as i write this. today was christmas with my family. my sister had been away (on her first international trip ever) and since we went to MD to see my inlaws, we hadn't had a chanc to exchange gifts.
the pats took full control of our afternoon as we watched with wide eyes and anticipated breath as to whether they would remain in playoff status. well they are, just in case you didn't know.
the visit concluded with a trip to legals, a favorite of my father's. i have no complaints there and i'm now full and drunk off of 2 glasses of shiraz. well, not super drunk, but bitter that we have work in a little over 12 hours.
blech. ewww.
i'm slightly inebriated as i write this. today was christmas with my family. my sister had been away (on her first international trip ever) and since we went to MD to see my inlaws, we hadn't had a chanc to exchange gifts.
the pats took full control of our afternoon as we watched with wide eyes and anticipated breath as to whether they would remain in playoff status. well they are, just in case you didn't know.
the visit concluded with a trip to legals, a favorite of my father's. i have no complaints there and i'm now full and drunk off of 2 glasses of shiraz. well, not super drunk, but bitter that we have work in a little over 12 hours.
blech. ewww.
06 January 2007
random
I'm going to a large la-tee-da meeting for work in Texas during the week of V-day. Not sure how I feel about it. I first dreaded the fact that I may have to, but I've never been to Texas and our hotel looks sort of nice.
Our parent album designs are finally DONE. After a lot of back and forth due to my obsessive compulsive behavior (or left over bridezilla behavior), I have tearfully viewed the photos bub and I selected for our parents to view and reminisce about. We have been watching the video more often than I thought: sharing it with family and friends and so forth, but there's something old fashioned about photos in a book you can look at without the need for a machine.
We're picking up our housing search again tomorrow (or so I hope). I'm treating looking for one like I would a new job. Too bad when you look for a new job, the expectation is such that you will get paid more, whereas with a house, you pour out your pockets and sign away your soul to a mortgage you'll have for the next bazillion years.
More later.
Our parent album designs are finally DONE. After a lot of back and forth due to my obsessive compulsive behavior (or left over bridezilla behavior), I have tearfully viewed the photos bub and I selected for our parents to view and reminisce about. We have been watching the video more often than I thought: sharing it with family and friends and so forth, but there's something old fashioned about photos in a book you can look at without the need for a machine.
We're picking up our housing search again tomorrow (or so I hope). I'm treating looking for one like I would a new job. Too bad when you look for a new job, the expectation is such that you will get paid more, whereas with a house, you pour out your pockets and sign away your soul to a mortgage you'll have for the next bazillion years.
More later.
03 January 2007
A vent
over wine and tiny handfuls of white chocolate chips left over from the swap last month (year). I would make dinner, but it's so much more fun when Bub is home and we cook together. Sigh.
So the job thingy that I mentioned in a past post? Yeah, well I totally called it. The dude told me to be in touch in the New Year. So after work last night I promptly contacted him to say Happy New Year (great minds think alike clink!) and this morning I get an email from him. Before I open it, I know what it's going to say.
Dear Ripe,
We haven't yet filled X position (another position, not the one I want--this was the one I originally applied for but was told I would be bored with in 6 months....mmk) but I will be in touch at that crossroad which may be a few to several months.
Best regards,
Potential New Manager Person
Yes, he wrote "few" and "several" just like that. They are practically the same thing. I called it because when we met he said that he was originally going to start interviewing for this job in the spring. He may have wanted to stress that the start time for this position would be later. But no--I get my hopes up because he's leaving the ball in my court. Well I had it and threw it back and now I have to wait. Great.
Now, if I were really cool, I could say: Hey new almost manager person, I have all sorts of other prospects in the works. I can't wait. But you see, I haven't been really aggressively looking. I should. I should because current job is what I believe would be a dead end job for moi. No offense, but I'm in a department that's all wrong. I'm ABC, not XYZ. I don't want to be a fill-in-the-blank-I-don't-want-to-offend-anyone-who-might-read-this-and-hold-this-position, which is what my boss (current) says my "path" is. Screw that, people. Screw that.
Next vent:
I'm tired. I had firm plans to be productive yesterday, today. I sit at my desk and I joke around with co-workers. I check blogs, and I feel slightly guilty because I should do more and more work because there's enough of it. My motivation has soured because anyone (I have convineced myself) can do this. Even if you really couldn't do this job, my boss makes it so that you absolutely can because she is a baby-er, a hand hold-er.
Please leave me alone, boss.
Good news is that I've been on time for work this year so far. Only 363 more days to keep it up!
So the job thingy that I mentioned in a past post? Yeah, well I totally called it. The dude told me to be in touch in the New Year. So after work last night I promptly contacted him to say Happy New Year (great minds think alike clink!) and this morning I get an email from him. Before I open it, I know what it's going to say.
Dear Ripe,
We haven't yet filled X position (another position, not the one I want--this was the one I originally applied for but was told I would be bored with in 6 months....mmk) but I will be in touch at that crossroad which may be a few to several months.
Best regards,
Potential New Manager Person
Yes, he wrote "few" and "several" just like that. They are practically the same thing. I called it because when we met he said that he was originally going to start interviewing for this job in the spring. He may have wanted to stress that the start time for this position would be later. But no--I get my hopes up because he's leaving the ball in my court. Well I had it and threw it back and now I have to wait. Great.
Now, if I were really cool, I could say: Hey new almost manager person, I have all sorts of other prospects in the works. I can't wait. But you see, I haven't been really aggressively looking. I should. I should because current job is what I believe would be a dead end job for moi. No offense, but I'm in a department that's all wrong. I'm ABC, not XYZ. I don't want to be a fill-in-the-blank-I-don't-want-to-offend-anyone-who-might-read-this-and-hold-this-position, which is what my boss (current) says my "path" is. Screw that, people. Screw that.
Next vent:
I'm tired. I had firm plans to be productive yesterday, today. I sit at my desk and I joke around with co-workers. I check blogs, and I feel slightly guilty because I should do more and more work because there's enough of it. My motivation has soured because anyone (I have convineced myself) can do this. Even if you really couldn't do this job, my boss makes it so that you absolutely can because she is a baby-er, a hand hold-er.
Please leave me alone, boss.
Good news is that I've been on time for work this year so far. Only 363 more days to keep it up!
House, on my mind...
Some of you know Bub and I found a home we really liked several months ago, surprisingly soon thereafter our nuptuals ceremony. We determined that it was too soon to pounce, too soon to invest, too soon, too soon. We would stay put in our little condo.
Here we are, a couple of months later, many more open houses later, and we think back to the little brown number on Coronation Road and how we liked to call it Coronary Road (and how we thought that's not really very funny, is it?).
And some of you know that said house sold.
And we hang our heads sadly over in Cleveland Circle, not because we don't love our bright space near the city, or that we have enjoyed hanging new artwork on the welcoming walls. Sure, we had a small leak in the roof and we're happy to report that come springtime, we'll take care of that little spot. We have some paint peeling in the bathroom and the kitchen needs a new fridge among other things.
You see, we'll probably keep this little space and rent it out when we don't move to Coronation Road to expand into a bigger home where we can spread out all of the wedding mementos that lie crammed into tiny crevices of our one bedroom. To spread out all the piles of stuff we have peeking out from under the bed. Where we can utilize a basement instead of filling a wooden box of sorts which has been locked inside a large basement that our entire building shares.
We love our home where we planned the wedding, painted together (or Bub mostly painted), where we have the choice of three different train lines going into the city and our own covered parking spot.
But we also want a family...some day. And I have dreams of a bright nursery, a yard, a tree or two, with birds chirping (not trains honking and squeaking). I do enjoy the city, though. I do. It's energy, it's dirty vigor. I enjoy our cozy spot there.
And now I don't know what else to say.
Here we are, a couple of months later, many more open houses later, and we think back to the little brown number on Coronation Road and how we liked to call it Coronary Road (and how we thought that's not really very funny, is it?).
And some of you know that said house sold.
And we hang our heads sadly over in Cleveland Circle, not because we don't love our bright space near the city, or that we have enjoyed hanging new artwork on the welcoming walls. Sure, we had a small leak in the roof and we're happy to report that come springtime, we'll take care of that little spot. We have some paint peeling in the bathroom and the kitchen needs a new fridge among other things.
You see, we'll probably keep this little space and rent it out when we don't move to Coronation Road to expand into a bigger home where we can spread out all of the wedding mementos that lie crammed into tiny crevices of our one bedroom. To spread out all the piles of stuff we have peeking out from under the bed. Where we can utilize a basement instead of filling a wooden box of sorts which has been locked inside a large basement that our entire building shares.
We love our home where we planned the wedding, painted together (or Bub mostly painted), where we have the choice of three different train lines going into the city and our own covered parking spot.
But we also want a family...some day. And I have dreams of a bright nursery, a yard, a tree or two, with birds chirping (not trains honking and squeaking). I do enjoy the city, though. I do. It's energy, it's dirty vigor. I enjoy our cozy spot there.
And now I don't know what else to say.
01 January 2007
Out with the Old, in with the New
So here we are! 2007! Happy New Year!
We had a fun day and night yesterday. We bummed around most of today with one venture into the rain for salty food and the ultimate hangover cure drink: Diet Coke with a wedge of lime. Ohhh, so yummy.
I just finished going through my part of the filing cabinet and desk as far as papers go. It had been a long time since I went through old pay stubs from my first job, old checks that had been voided, paperwork for my old car, stubs from my first payments of my new car. So much had piled up. Most of it stated my old name. It was weird how my status has changed and now my identity. My new last name quietly started appearing on more and more documents.
On Friday, at what has turned into a weekly manicure appointment, I had a run in with two fellow high school classmates. I was half surprised and half not to come to learn the actions that would take place. Classmate A was a friend from nursery school. Then we parted separate ways to our respective elementary schools. Then in middle, and later in high school, she would become one of the many snobs lurking in the hallways, at the lockers, eyeing us in the cafeteria, and even in the classroom. So I was not surprised by her behavior: a look up and down at me and then back to choose her color before proceeding to the pedicure space.
For the record, I have not been on Extreme Makeover. I have never dyed my hair--not even highlights, and I was the only person with my first name in our class of 256 students. This girl KNEW me. And as adults, I was shocked to find that a mere hello or acknowledgement that we are human BEINGS was too much for her.
In walks behind her Classmate B: class president, #2 student, now Harvard grad. She says, is that "First name, last name"? I turn and after a brief silence, state that it is. I pondered whether or not to come up with a cute reply that I was actually "First name, NEW last name". But part of me felt a disconnect from Classmate B. Part of me felt like it's not my nature to blurt out these things. I felt like it was sort of privileged news to share. Which is weird since my rings announce this very fact. Anyway, after a mere couple of questions, I learn a thing or two about her. And then I get:
You're acting so serious.
And for a second. I think. Okay. This girl is nice. This girl used to be my friend. Truly. And then of course, we drifted and it was okay. And there were no bad feelings. But I was already being judged. And it has been 9 years (scary) since we graduated. So I replied with the usual: I am? And the conversation faded out from there.
When she walked away I didn't internalize her words, for once, although writing about this incident might imply this is the case. But I'm okay. I'm okay with who I am, who I was, and who I strive to become.
2007, here I come.
We had a fun day and night yesterday. We bummed around most of today with one venture into the rain for salty food and the ultimate hangover cure drink: Diet Coke with a wedge of lime. Ohhh, so yummy.
I just finished going through my part of the filing cabinet and desk as far as papers go. It had been a long time since I went through old pay stubs from my first job, old checks that had been voided, paperwork for my old car, stubs from my first payments of my new car. So much had piled up. Most of it stated my old name. It was weird how my status has changed and now my identity. My new last name quietly started appearing on more and more documents.
On Friday, at what has turned into a weekly manicure appointment, I had a run in with two fellow high school classmates. I was half surprised and half not to come to learn the actions that would take place. Classmate A was a friend from nursery school. Then we parted separate ways to our respective elementary schools. Then in middle, and later in high school, she would become one of the many snobs lurking in the hallways, at the lockers, eyeing us in the cafeteria, and even in the classroom. So I was not surprised by her behavior: a look up and down at me and then back to choose her color before proceeding to the pedicure space.
For the record, I have not been on Extreme Makeover. I have never dyed my hair--not even highlights, and I was the only person with my first name in our class of 256 students. This girl KNEW me. And as adults, I was shocked to find that a mere hello or acknowledgement that we are human BEINGS was too much for her.
In walks behind her Classmate B: class president, #2 student, now Harvard grad. She says, is that "First name, last name"? I turn and after a brief silence, state that it is. I pondered whether or not to come up with a cute reply that I was actually "First name, NEW last name". But part of me felt a disconnect from Classmate B. Part of me felt like it's not my nature to blurt out these things. I felt like it was sort of privileged news to share. Which is weird since my rings announce this very fact. Anyway, after a mere couple of questions, I learn a thing or two about her. And then I get:
You're acting so serious.
And for a second. I think. Okay. This girl is nice. This girl used to be my friend. Truly. And then of course, we drifted and it was okay. And there were no bad feelings. But I was already being judged. And it has been 9 years (scary) since we graduated. So I replied with the usual: I am? And the conversation faded out from there.
When she walked away I didn't internalize her words, for once, although writing about this incident might imply this is the case. But I'm okay. I'm okay with who I am, who I was, and who I strive to become.
2007, here I come.
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