Mind by Mattel

2008-09-30T16:05:00.002-04:00

Jessica Alba is an Idiot

But you knew that, I know.

Anyway, I'm not sure why she named her child HONOR (well, I am sure, but it's a vomitous reason--some James Bond villainess or something), but she did, so there you go. And, according to US, while Jessica is Latina, she herself does not speak Spanish. However, that does not stop her from wanting poor Honor from being bilingual. Which is all very noble and envy-inducing (I wish *I* spoke more than one language, and dork does not count!), but according to Jessica, she doesn't want Honor to even KNOW English before preschool.

A) How does Jessica propose to teach Spanish to her daughter when herself does not speak it?
B) How does Jessica propose to communicate with her fluent in Spanish but not English daughter if Jessica herself does not speak Spanish?

2008-09-29T18:59:00.002-04:00

When Will There Be News?

Every time my phone beeps a text I anxiously check it. My sister's husband sent me an email and I frantically clicked on it, only to discover it was a (hilarious, don't get me wrong) video clip of the Wire. But enough about the Wire, I'm going to be an aunt!! When, you ask? Well...soon. Today. Tomorrow. This week. I don't know. According to my sister's calculations, today (September 29) was the due date. According to the OB, Thursday (Oct 2) is the date. All that we know is that soon she (yep, it's a girl!) will be here.

Given my somewhat cynical-natured self, I ordinarily would feel a bit foolish and defensive about the fact every time I try to put my thoughts about this process into words, I start crying. And I guess I DO feel embarrassed, a wee bit, about it. But just knowing it's something my sister has wanted for so long, and knowing it's almost here, and just imagining how it's going to be when she arrives and I get to see her grow and become the wonderful awesome happy person I know she'll be....it's amazingly cool.

You know what it is? It's the promise and possibility. It's knowing that I'm 35 now, and old (I'm kidding, sort of), and I've made choices and done things both good and bad...and knowing that there is going to be someone in our family to go through that all for the first time, it just makes me so emotional.

I know she is going to be loved, and happy, and beautiful. And I hope she holds on to that security she will have as an infant and not lose it to time and bad experiences and bad people. I hope that tears are transient but happiness and hope is everlasting.

And yes, this whole thing is flowery and sentimental, but....it's my sister. And her (almost born) baby!

2008-09-15T16:46:00.002-04:00

So...um, do you hate me?

I know I haven't talked to you in ages. But it's nothing personal, really!! Life just sometimes gets all backed up and the idea of writing is overwhelming because if we were in touch regularly it wouldn't be so bad to keep you up to date...but when it's been two months, the idea of telling you everything that's happened just makes my eyes crossed.

Suffice to say it's been busy. Ultimately fine, but busy.

Skipping over things like my birthday and the start of a new school year, teaching is going pretty well this year. Like, I actually have control over my class and everything. And I had to do a presentation in a school today and even though they were all talking and talking and talking I didn't bust out in hives and want to throw up like usual. Look at me, learning and growing once more. Miss Alli moved here....um, at some point (beginning of July?) and it's been rocking like Bob. It's just great to have her around and another good friend to see on a regular basis. My niece will be born really, really soon. I went kayaking and parasailing on my vacation. I am, as always, struggling with staying on task and dedicated to exercising and eating well. And, of course, let's not forget such broad and generic things as "accepting myself as I am" and "living in the present, not looking too far into the future and getting stressed."

Hopefully I will be more dedicated to the task at hand...documenting my life on a semi-regular basis in a somewhat engaging and humorous way. One can always hope, at least.

2008-07-31T20:34:00.003-04:00

I'm turning 35....ALL BY MYSELF

This isn't some Bridget Jones wailing about being alone thing. This is seriously real. I had this fantastic plan to go to the beach for a week and have loads of people join me, from the professor to Gill to the lawyer to my sister, Joey F, and my niece in utero....and of course, Deliriously Awesome. I was going to be 35, yo! I can run for president and everything!

Well, fast-forward to the actual event, and I've got the lawyer and my sister's family. The professor is in Italy, Gill has no more vacation days, my friend the musician never responded, and of course DA is the ex. I love the people who ARE coming and I know I'm going to have a great time with everybody, so I'm not feeling sad...except for the part where nobody shows up until the day AFTER my birthday. Um?

I'm not a big "give me lots of presents" type person (except for the time I invited people to my slumber birthday party and underneath "what to bring," I wrote "sleeping bag, pillow, present"....BUT I WAS NINE, people). But I AM into doing fun things ON my birthday. And I probably WILL manage to find fun things to do, being at the beach and all. Just....by myself.

I'm not yet depressed about that fact. I'm sort of a bit puzzled. I'm curious to see how I will feel on the actual day. It might be weird. It might not. But, I've never spent time in a strange place by myself (it doesn't count when a canceled flight delays you overnight somewhere), much less on my birthday. So I have no clue what to expect.

I guess, if nothing else, it will be an experience. Right?

2008-07-22T15:56:00.008-04:00

I Had Surgery and a Breakup in One Month and I Didn't Even Get a T-Shirt

Of course, I DID get a brand-new stomach, so I guess that's what matters, right? In retrospect, I wish I'd documented the process more, both in words and in photos, not necessarily to post the latter (nobody needs to see the BEFORE!), but just because already it seems like so long ago that I had the procedure. But it wasn't--it was a mere 6 weeks ago! And I'm a whole new person! (Not really.)

As best as I can remember, it was never absolutely HORRENDOUS. I was scared right before it, but on the actual day I was nothing but excited. I went in at 6:30 a.m., they did all kinds of intake stuff and, my personal favorite, confirmed approximately 2,000 times what I was getting (as the lawyer, formerly law student texted, can you imagine if they'd done the wrong thing? Leg amputations! Breast implants!), and walked me to the operating table. I really DID go out like a light, and the next thing I knew it was 3.5 hours later and I was being asked to cough. Which, let me say, wasn't the best feeling in the world.

The next few days were a hazy cloud of sleeping, watching DVDs, reading, and eating raspberry blondies. At the worst, it felt like I'd done a bajillion crunches--SORE stomach muscles, but not agonizing pain. My mood was all over the place, in part because I didn't know what to expect in terms of appearance (the first time I was unbandaged, three days later, I looked like a giant lumpy loaf of bread and I almost cried), in part because I (natch) didn't feel well, in part because Mr Deliriously Awesome (now ex-DA) was sick too so didn't come to be with me as soon as we'd thought he would.

Anyway, then the professor came for the second week to be with me. Even though he was bored out of his mind by the end, it was helpful to ME because he (gently) forced me to take more risks and stop babying myself quite to the same degree my parents had done. By the time he left, I went back to work, albeit for only a few hours a day at first, coming home afterwards to crash in exhaustion.

But gradually the moods all evened out, my strength started to come back, but then of course we broke up, which hurt like hell, but also now feels kind of hazy and in the past...to be flowerly and overly melodramatic, they hacked up my body--which I inexplicably CHOSE to have done to me--and while I was recovering from that, my heart was broken. (Seriously, I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's how it felt at the time.) So then I had to sort of take a step back and reassess again.

Now, physically and emotionally, I am okay. My first time exercising consisted of slow treadmill walking for 30 minutes, and now I'm up to faster treadmill walking (at huge inclines, no less!) for 70, and today I even JOGGED (slowly!) for a grand total of 1 minute 15 seconds. My stomach is less swelled (though apparently will go down even more!) and I can see it looks more like a regular person's. I don't have the dreaded muffin top anymore! I got the all-clear yesterday to start doing high-impact stuff again, so I'm ready for that.

As for ex-DA, what can I say. After all my ups and downs with boys since moving back, he's the first person I'd actually LOVED since Cincinnati Boy. I will never absolutely 100% understand why he messed it up, but I can't sit around pining for him. I'm trying to move on, and mostly succeeding. The experience actually, despite ending badly, was REALLY positive in a lot of ways. One, he pretty much embodied everything I'd wanted in a boy but never thought existed in one person, which gives me hope I can find that again. Two, *I* was healthy and non-clingy and crazy, even if he turned out to be kind of mentally in a bad place. So that is all I can do...know that I did the best I could and that even knowing what I know now...I would absolutely do it again. No regrets, right?

BTW, that holds true for my surgery as well. Just saying.

2008-07-06T21:08:00.002-04:00

Ne Snippet Pas

On the 4th of July, according to Yahoo!, the top three things searched were:

Firework Safety
Rihanna
Campaign Patriotism

Where to start? That Rihanna was in between the two 4th of July-related topics? That for whatever reason, on this day, she was the #2 most popular thing searched for? My brain, it does not understand.

2008-06-30T21:20:00.004-04:00

Dear God, it's Come to This

Yeah that's right bitches, I'm quoting Madonna lyrics rather than writing out my own version of the depressing end of yet another "relationship." The least self-pitying but simultaneously candid version (without spilling all my private crap out to the world at large) that I can manage: We were in love, it was awesome and amazing, I thought we'd get married (...in two years or so, don't worry, I wasn't THAT crazy), I trusted him and loved him more than anybody I've ever known, including the 5-year Cincinnati Boy. And then it was over for reasons far beyond my control. The only positive thing is that the transformation from completely devastated to sometimes devastated/sometimes ok hasn't been as long and overwhelmingly hopeless as it's been in the past. So, yay for improved mental health?

**
Just one of those things
When everything goes incredible
And all is beautiful (Can't get my head around, I need to think about it)
And one of those things
That used to get you down
Now have no effect at all
Cause life is beautiful (Can't get my head around it, I need to think about it)
Remembering the very first time
You caught that someone special's eye
And all of your cares dropped
And all of the world just stopped (I hope)
I want to go back to then
Got to figure out how, got to remember when I felt it, it thrilled me
I want it, to fill me
Just one of those things
When everything goes incredible
And all is beautiful (Can't get my head around, I need to think about it)
And one of those things
That used to get you down
Now have no effect at all
Cause life is beautiful (Can't get my head around it, I need to think about it)
**
Coming...okay, I was going to write SOON, but let's be realistic...EVENTUALLY: post-surgery reflections and experiences!

2008-06-02T20:08:00.003-04:00

The End of Amy 3.0

Argh, well, my post detailing my half-marathon, complete with graphic pictures, has been permanently put on hiatus. It's sitting in drafts just DYING to be published, and yet laziness prevails from finishing the damn thing! I DID, however, manage to finish the actual half-marathon, despite bleeding legs (wish I were exaggerating)...so I suppose that's what really matters.

In more important news, I'm in love! I'm over the fact it sounds ridiculous to say that after such a short time, because it's totally 100% true. I finally get all those crazy weirdos who get married after one weekend or whatever. That's not going to be me by any stretch of the imagination, but...it was just a connection like I've never had before, on so many levels. There is none of the insecurity and uncertainty I've had before, which I think is reflective not just of the fact it feels so natural and right, but the fact I'M so much more comfortable and sure of MYSELF. It didn't feel insane one bit to have him come away with me this past weekend to visit my friends with me, and while I'm not so blinded as to say "he's PERFECT," what is PERFECT is us together. It's not about finding the person with no flaws, it's the person whose flaws can mesh with your own, you know? And just as he seems willing and able to put up with my crazy high-maintenance ass, so am I with his. Cue dorky blissful sigh here.

In other news, I'm having surgery in 9 days because, as almost everybody knows, I used to be fat, and now I'm not, but my stomach hasn't gotten the memo. I held off for years because I felt like a shallow anti-feminist loser for not being able to "accept my body the way it is," but you know what? Just as I wrote above, I'm over that shite. I don't like it, it's annoying that clothes that fit elsewhere are too tight there, and it actively interferes with how much I like the way I look. Having the surgery isn't going to make me feel like "I'm a gorgeous model [ha!] now," but I'm very excited about not feeling actively bummed out about it.

What I've come to realize is that it's sort of a way of letting go of part of me I've outgrown (no pun intended). If I had to live my life over again, I don't know that I'd actively choose to gain and then lose 110+ pounds. There is a LOT of negative fallout from that which still affects me, not as profoundly as it once did, but still at a low level. But there is a LOT of positive to the experience that I can point to...it's made me more compassionate of others' struggles with food and self-image. It's made me know what it's like to be different and immediately judged negatively. It's made me confident in my ability to set a goal and reach it. Etc. And to me, having the surgery now is a big old metaphor. I'm discarding what has been negative about the experience, holding on to what has been positive, and forging a new version of myself. Sure, I'm battered and scarred and imperfect....but ultimately happier and stronger for having lived through it.

On December 31, 2007 I sent a text to London Boy that said, "Happy New Year. I'm ready to say goodbye to the worst year ever and hello to a fresh start!" And miraculously, that has proven to be true. I grew to really like, not just be ambivalent about, my job. I have strengthened previous friendships, reconnected with ones that had faded, and formed new ones. I haven't even gone into the dizzying excitement of impending aunthood! And it's a giant cliche, but it's true...that once I found inner peace and tranquility, I was open to really seeing a new person as someone to COMPLEMENT, not COMPLETE, my identity. What can I say? If the rest of 2008 is as awesome as the first half has been....I don't know how I'll ever be able to stop smiling.

2008-04-21T06:58:00.004-04:00

I Ran 10 Miles and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt

I feel lame finally getting around to posting this when it happened....oh, three weeks ago. But I ran the Cherry Blossom 10-miler and ROCKED it, baby. My goal was 1:40, and I made it in 1:44.15. No, that wasn't my goal, but one, it was FOUR MINUTES off my goal vs. the 18 minutes I was off when I did the half-marathon, and two, I was strong the whole way through and finished sprinting. Oh, and did I mention it was totally pouring?

It feels cheating to post these two snippets rather than create original thoughts about the experience from scratch, but I'm doing it anyway, because I've been lazy about updating until I got this out of the way. After the race, for about a week, I was just so PUMPED and happy in a way that defies mere words. Then, two things I read summed up my feelings. The first was my post after the half-marathon (May 2007):

"This is, bar none, the thing I am most proud of in my whole life. I have this annoying tendency to always qualify achievements. Anything anybody finds remotely impressive, I always downplay. "Yeah, I got a master's degree from Columbia...but it was just two classes at a time and everybody can get into their master's program." (I do still think that, and it's not just Melinda Doolittle-esque modesty trying to get people to tell me I'm wrong.) "Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow, I'm doing a half-marathon. But don't get too impressed, I'm sure I won't finish!" (And yes, I DID email that to more than one person, again in all seriousness.) But there's no way I can tear down the fact I ran 13 freaking miles, try as I might. It's an incredibly unfamiliar, yet totally awesome feeling. I can't stop smiling."

Then, I was reading Runner's World (I don't even recognize myself anymore, reading sports magazies! Nay, SUBSCRIBING to them!) and came across an article about a guy who ran an ultramarathon (100 miles!):

"My time: 23 hours 48 minutes. At the finish, I vowed I'd never run that far again; a promise that even now, a few years later, I've had little desire to break. But I was suffused with this warm sense of overwhelming fulfillment. In one day, I'd totally rejiggered how I calculated my abilities and weaknesses. What I'm trying to say, maudlin or not, is that I was deeply happy."

And really, I can't say it any better than that.

2008-04-05T20:50:00.003-04:00

Blossom Blast 2008

My bag is packed, my breakfast items are picked out...I'm ready to get up at 5 a.m. and run 10 miles, baby! In honor of the event, I frantically threw together a last-minute mix to keep me surprised so it's not the same old songs one after the other...don't judge, you all like your crappy songs, admit it!

* Eye of the Tiger, Survivor (keeps playing in my head as I envision myself being successful tomorrow)
* A Peak You Reach, Badly Drawn Boy
* Expectations, Belle & Sebastian
* Deja Vu, Beyonce
* Dancing in the Dark, Bruce Springsteen
* Modern Love, David Bowie
* Theme from Cheerleader Nation (shut up, it's motivational!), this Lifetime reality show from 2006
* Atomic, Blondie
* Airline to Heaven, Billy Bragg & Wilco (my all-time favorite running song, must be on EVERY mix I do)
* The Ballad of John & Yoko, Beatles
* Ever Fallen in Love?, the Buzzcocks
* Mirror in the Bathroom, English Beat
* I Ran, Flock of Seagulls (come ON!, I had to do this one!)
* Blimps Go 90, Guided by Voices
* Now That We Found Love, Heavy D and the Boyz
* When the Man Comes Around, Johnny Cash
* Been Caught Stealing, Jane's Addiction
* And We Danced, the Hooters
* Daughters of the Kaos, Lucious Jackson
* Turn to the Sky, March Violets (from Some Kind of Wonderful)
* Frankly, Mr. Shankly, the Smiths
* Ana Ng, They Might be Giants
* Cornflake Girl, Tori Amos
* Things That Scare Me, Neko Case
* Jump!, Van Halen
* Scorpio Rising, 10,000 Maniacs
* Rok the House, some random group (I heard the song in aerobics today and frantically downloaded it, cause I loved it)
* Superman, R.E.M. (I can do anything! talk about motivational!)
* Washington DC, Magnetic Fields (hey, it IS the DC Cherry Blossom 10-miler...sort of a tribute to my home city as I race to the finish line!)

My goal is 100 minutes, and the mix is 110 just because when the gun goes off, there's a lot of shuffling along before actual running begins. More after the race...if I am able to do more than hobble to my couch.

2008-04-04T09:41:00.007-04:00

The Years Go By

In honor of my mom's birthday today, my sister and I planned to make her frosted cookies. Somehow that evolved into "Amy makes cookies and Karen waltzes in 20 minutes before it's over" [I'm kidding! Fighting crime/negligence as a juror on a civil trial is pretty much a foolproof excuse], but it's all good. Because they ROCK. And they're so pretty, too!

I'm sort of at a loss about how to process the fact that my mom is SIXTY. And I'm going to be THIRTY-FIVE in a few months. Actually, that part's no big deal; I've made my peace with getting old. I'm actually digging it, really. (I may change my mind when I start finding it harder to work out, etc, and I physically slow down, but for now it's all good.) There's something to be said for feeling a sense of history and connection to the past. I like remembering how things "used to be," and I'm not yet so old that I am grumpy about it. I just find it hilarious.

However, I AM mildly weirded out to think that when I was in the fifth grade, my mom was the age I am now. THAT still seems strange.

2008-03-27T20:49:00.002-04:00

Flashback to 1987

The scene: The gym, approximately 6:30 a.m.

Strange guy I see ALL THE TIME: "Is your name Amy?"
Me, cautiously: "Yes?"
SGISATT: "Amy....last name?"
Me, even more cautiously: "....Yes?"
SGISATT: "We went to school together!"

Well, indeed we did. And not only did we go to school together, we went to school together IN THE EIGHTH GRADE. So I apparently am recognizable by someone who has not seen me in, literally, 21 years, since we graduated from junior high in June 1987.

Hey, I'll take it. Trust me, I'm not complaining. Cause I look at my 8th grade pictures, and I looked pretty damn cute. And young! I'm just sayin.

2008-03-10T11:20:00.005-04:00

Dear Diary, I'm Sorry I Haven't Written...

But things have been SOOO busy!!1! OMG, u wouldn't blieve all thats happening Diary I can hardly write fast enough to get it all down!!!

Ok, I'm kidding, both about the horrific spelling and "all that's happening." Nothing really other than LIFE is happening, and it's all good. I feel more settled and happy in my job than ever before, I feel comfortable with my friendships, and finally not 100% convinced that not having a boyfriend is because I Suck. Oh, and running like you wouldn't believe....yesterday I went 8.39 miles. And yeah, people keep heartlessly pointing out it's ON A TREADMILL, but that's about 4 miles more than I was doing ON A TREADMILL a few months ago, bitches, so suck it!

And, I don't know where they've been all my life, but vegetables RULE. Take today, for example. I had a medley of sugar snap peas, baby corn, carrots, and red peppers in some kind of soy sauce. And they were AWESOME! And so very filling! I eat green things AT LEAST once a day now, if not twice! I think it's time for Amy 4.0 based on that alone.

Project Runway 4 was the best since Season 1, IMO, as is Biggest Loser Couples. I'm psyched 30 Rock will be back soon and bummed I seem to have officially seen all the L&O: Special Victims Unite (that's such a great typo I have to keep it) reruns USA has to offer. Now if I can just wade through the hours of Eyes on the Prize (Parts one AND two)....oh, and the rest of Season 3 of the Wire...

More soon, and sooner than the last entry. I hope.

2008-02-13T20:24:00.006-05:00

Just in time for Valentine's Day...a love letter to Jillian Michaels

In a down is up, up is down thing, I have gradually developed a love for Jillian Michaels that started out as respectful apprciation and is now bordering on the unholy, obsessive stalking sort. Like, I would probably start crying if I saw her in real life, I love her so much. Okay, granted it doesn't take much to make me cry, but still. She's that freaking awesome.

If you have a life and don't watch The Biggest Loser, she's one of the trainers on the show, along with Bob, my former love who has been casually tossed aside like last year's news. One, he pissed me off by not picking Bernie and Brittany when the teams were scrambled up. Two, he stalked out of the weigh-in last night when his team lost by one pound. Three, the fact that I can rattle these things off is just more sad news that I Need a Life. But anyway...

When Biggest Loser first started, I liked both trainers, but felt like Bob had the edge. Bob was all about the holistic, mind and body approach to weight loss. You can exercise and cut calories all you want, but if you're still avoiding why you got fat in the first place...you're doomed. Jillian, on the other hand, seemed to view training as "scare the crap out of my clients so they have no choice but to obey me." That said, I always figured I'd respond to both methods (since I simultaneously fear and resent authority figures...). Until now. I bought the Jillian Michaels Winning by Losing DVDs, and I am reading her book (Making the Cut), and She. Is. Awesome. One, her DVDs are kicking my ass. Two, her approach isn't about beating you to death, it's about pushing you to feel more empowered. All those people wailing that they can't do one more bicep curl, or jog one more minute at that impossible speed? That's just their wimpy fears talking. Once they realize she won't let up until they do it, and they do it...they feel better, and more confident, and have more faith in themselves and what they can achieve. I LOVE that, and I love Jillian for having that philosophy.

That said, in a moment of bummed-outness yesterday, I impulsively signed up for her weight-loss website. The reasons behind it are boring and whiny, but basically I realized that I just don't know enough about the science of food and nutrition to make good choices that won't leave me constantly hungry, especially since I'm actually seriously training for the half-marathon this year vs. thinking "Oh yeah, that's in a few months, ooh, Cadbury cream eggs!" However, I have since come to my senses and realized, that's why I have her book from the library. There's NOTHING on her site that isn't in the book. Which is FREE.

And herein lies what just might kill my undying, absolute pure love for Jillian. It is IMPOSSIBLE to resign your membership! No online place to cancel, the way my beloved weightwatchers.com had (thank you, ww.com!). The phone number kept me on hold for 15 minutes before dumping me into someone's voice mail. Yeah, right, like "Amber's" gonna call me back. Sigh.

Jillian, Jillian, Jillian. Is this another test of my resolve and ability to empower myself? Because right now I'm feeling like I can't sit through another "your call is important to us, please keep holding" session tomorrow. But with your voice in my head, I WILL stay on hold. For as long as it takes. To get done what I know I can get done...have most (but not all, alas) of my money refunded and work on xeroxing the recipes from the book I'll actually use.

2008-01-29T12:22:00.000-05:00

The Numbers Game

I, like many others, am kind of obsessed with my scale. To an unhealthy degree. I have a low weight? I'm happy. I have a bad one? I feel crappy (rhyme intended to inject levity into the discussion). When I first started trying to lose weight, I told myself it was all about "getting healthy" and it didn't matter so much what I looked like, but how I felt about myself, both inside (less like a fat gross freak) and outside (like I could climb up a flight of stairs without passing out).

Well, seven long years after the process began...both missions have been accomplished. And yet, I'm still jumping on the scale to see how much I weigh and getting depressed when it's a "bad" number. I'm not going to list all the reasons I buy into the game, because it's all Women's Studies 101 (women are judged based on physical appearance? Are you SERIOUS?) and Psychology 101 (because my mom linked how I look with how she said others would feel about me, I still do that? Really?) and la la la dull dull dull. It doesn't matter WHY I do it; what matters is that I STILL do it.

Take the start of 2008. I had kind of a revelation that hey, maybe the scale isn't so great after all. For all my knowledge of the process (eat less, exercise more), there still is an element of mystery to it all. I can have a great, healthy week full of fruits and exercise and gain 2 pounds. I can have M&Ms for breakfast three times in one week and lose 1 pound. It isn't 100% science, and determining if I was having a "good" or "bad" week based on a 3-pound differential is ridiculous. So for the first time since 2000, I put my scale away in the closet.

And, okay, I promptly had an anxiety attack and put it back in its rightful place in the bathroom. It felt too weird not to see it there staring at me. But I STOPPED weighing myself three-four times a week. I relied on making Good Choices and how my clothes felt. When I noticed a pair of pants felt tight? I cut back on the sweets and now they fit just fine. Furthermore, in an attempt to actually TRAIN for my half-marathon this year rather than decide to try to run 13 miles when I'd never run more than 6, I've stepped back up on the running and now regularly run at least 3 miles three times/week (with Sunday being the "longer run" day where I add a few minutes to the time each week). Add on the Jillian Michaels Biggest Winner DVDs I got (which, plug....will KICK your ASS), and I was feeling pretty good about everything. I felt like I looked like my legs had more muscle, etc. So good, in fact, that jumping on the scale this morning seemed like a fine idea.

Except for the fact I've supposedly gained about 5 pounds since Christmas. The hell? Nothing fits poorly, I'm stepping up the exercise....but now, all because of one unexpected number, I'm discouraged and bummed out again.

Two questions:

1) How many times do I have to hit myself in the head with a hammer before I realize ow, that hurts, and I should just put the fricking hammer down?

2) How do I make sure I don't get complacent about weight (because I certainly don't want to gain it all, or even some, back) without being obsessive about numbers?

These thoughts, they do plague me. Yargh.

2008-01-16T13:42:00.001-05:00

Does Not Play Well With Others

This entry was censored, because after publishing it and re-reading it, I realized it was by far the most revealing thing I've ever written about my job, and I suddenly got paranoid it would be discovered by Those It Should Not.

When I figure out how to write this in a less potentially damaging manner, I will re-post. Because it's still stuff I'm thinking about.

2007-12-17T19:25:00.000-05:00

"Why Are You So Relentlessly Negative?"

I won't lie. When London Boy said that to me, it hurt. A lot. But, unfortunately, the more I thought about it, the more truth I could see in the statement. I don't know what's up with that. I'm always encouraging with my students and trying to help them see the bright side of almost any situation. But when it comes to me, myself, and viewing my life...not so much.

Now that I'm seeing the light of day again and feel like I can think more coherently, I've been doing a lot of soul-searching and introspection and blah blah blah. These are some of the epiphanies I've had in the past few months:

1). I am never going to be perfect (I know, you want to write that brilliant insight down. Don't worry, I'll wait for you to get a pen). More accurately, the Issues I have always had--wanting to be perfect, hating feeling criticized and judged, etc--will always be a part of me. Just like I'm always (I hope) going to be kind, and supportive and loyal, and funny...I'm also going to always be insecure and anxious. What can change is how I handle these setbacks, and how I handle these less than ideal moments. That is where true growth comes into play. Maturity isn't about not having any weaknesses...it's about not having them be the only way you define yourself.

2). This fall I was dating Mr MD (that's Maryland, not Medical Doctor) and liking him and having some fun, but not seeing my destiny before me or anything. So when he dumped me because he decided he liked someone else better, the sting of rejection smarted a bit, but I didn't go into a tailspin or anything. At first I was feeling like a loser for once again not managing to date anybody long enough to reach the boy/girlfriend stage, but the words "relentlessly negative" popped into my head again. Now, miracle of miracles, this reframing thing is working. No, we weren't meant to be great loves. But there was a LOT I valued about him, namely the fact I could be open and really, really honest about my fears and insecurities, and not be judged negatively for them. That is the first time I really think that happened, so I'm choosing to view it as a good thing. A sign that what I need emotionally from a boy CAN exist, that it's not some impossible ideal I've made up. And I just have to be optimistic that eventually that trait will show up in someone I'm more day to day compatible with (and who, presumably, will feel similarly towards me). Unfortunately, this leads into the next revelation...

3a). That despite my best intentions, I am not 100% over the secret agent choir boy. (I met him at the beginning of the summer and fell madly into what I thought was mutual infatuation, only to have it crash and burn and then suffer through being jerked around and mixed signals for way too long before finally growing a spine and putting it to rest.) It doesn't matter whether or not I "should" be, whether or not it is ridiculous to still have moments of wanting someone back. I still have them, and I can't be too hard on myself for them. I just have to keep the negatives--the aforementioned mixed signals, being jerked around, not feeling like he cared much about ME and MY feelings--in the forefront of my mind to have a Fair and Balanced perspective. In fact, this is actually the opposite of point the first. The secret agent choir boy was NOT perfect for me, and defining him ONLY by his positives (day to day compatibility and fun) without keeping his negatives in mind is not healthy. And in fact, the negatives were SO detrimental to me that I really kind of have to at least attempt to define him by those if I have any hope of fully moving on.

3b). That said, I really am trying to stop torturing myself and put the past in the past. For awhile I hated driving past his place (unfortunately for me, he lives 5 minutes from where I work, so that was pretty inevitable) because the memories would come flooding back. Guess what? I am blessed/cursed with a pretty good memory. I still know phone numbers from elementary school. I'M NOT GOING TO FORGET HE LIVES THERE. Why get all upset every time I drive past it? Why not say, "Yeah, a guy I used to date lives there?" the way I say about places friends from high school I no longer talk to live? It isn't a bad thing. It just IS. On a similar note, if I allow myself to stay mired in that past...it's going to defeat me. And I am nothing if not competitive and determined not to be defeated by ridiculous things such as a boy.

4). People aren't nearly as hard on me as I am on myself. That's something people have said to me for years, but I'm finally realizing that hey, it might be true. When I made an ass of myself in front of a huge group of students? I felt like a moron, but my coworker pointed out they weren't really going to remember. And he's right. I've since talked to some of those students and guess what? They don't laugh in my face and act like I'm useless. It makes having less than perfect moments a lot easier to handle, knowing that they'll fade over time. It makes me a lot more likely to let them fade from MY brain.

Since the year is drawing to a close and I've been terrible about updating, I'll go for the Grand Concluding End of 2007 Pronouncements a bit early. Things sucked for a long time, and now they really don't. Nothing in my life is perfect and just the way I want it, but it's all pretty damn good. I have a job in my field; I have friends and family who care about me. The things that cause me angst (wanting to lose weight, meet boys)? Despite writing endlessly about them above, they would be nice, but they're not going to make or break me.

For the first time since I moved back here, I feel consistently like me again. A me that I like a lot. It's weird. But pretty awesome. (How's that for ending on a positive note?)

2007-12-06T15:36:00.000-05:00

I'm Not Dead

I'm just a work in progress. As, I suppose, we all are....

2007-11-01T22:48:00.000-04:00

The Magic Number

Things always happen in threes, right? So when my friend the musician emailed me that he'd gotten engaged, and then my friend the law student texted me that she was now officially the lawyer because she passed the bar...well, it should only follow that the gnats would win the softball championship game tonight. I mean, come ON, we had only lost one game! No matter that the other team was undefeated...it was destiny!

Sadly, god or whomever doesn't seem to remember how this works, because not only did we lose, we got thoroughly squashed. However, he soon remembered that BAD things happen in threes....because one guy pulled a muscle catching a fly ball and nearly had to be carried off the field, another woman got hit in the eye with a bat, and I got hit in the face with a ball. For a second I was kind of afraid I broke (or at least seriously injured) my jaw, it hurt so bad, but it seems okay now. I just suspect that tomorrow I will have a gigantic bruise so everybody will think I get hit regularly. As further "evidence," my legs are covered with black and blue marks. That's what happens when you're switched to catcher and aren't actually very good at fielding, I guess!

Despite our loss, I had a lot more fun this time around. I actually would play again in the spring! We'll see if it happens. In the meantime, I have to decide whether or not to sign up for a photography class. Pro: I love photography. Con: it's Thursday nights, 6:30-9:50. Ugh.

2007-10-22T18:14:00.000-04:00

I'm a real live Professor and Everything!

I don't remember if I posted back when I first got this job that I would have to teach a college class. Which, I am not embarrassed to admit, scared the crap out of me. I don't have a problem speaking in front of people...usually. But my years in Cincinnati broke me because the students, while perfectly nice one-on-one, were HORRIBLE as a group. Would never listen, always talk about and complain about how whatever it was I wanted was stupid and boring and they weren't going to do it...in fact, I DO remember writing at some point that it got so bad I decidedly to individually register approximately 200 juniors for the SAT over a period of about a week rather than do it as a class in one day. Seriously, the only reason I never cried in front of them is because I knew it would be all over and I'd never have any credibility. So I just saved my tears for when I could close my office and ignore any knocking.

As one could imagine, you don't walk away with that without some scarring (at least, not if you're oversensitive me). I first taught this class the spring semester, and it was okay. It helped that there were only 7 students--I basically just led it like a group counseling session. Getting them to talk was challenging, but they always did eventually. This time, however, there were 29 students. And they were 29 talkative, smart students. Who liked to challenge me...not in a negative way like Cincinnati ones, but in a "keeping me on my toes" way. The third session I started to get really really scared about how I would survive. I literally could not plan a lesson, I was so frozen up with anxiety about the idea of doing it. Thankfully I didn't have to, because my co-worker volunteered to teach my class on the condition I help her with one of her units, which I happily agreed to.

But guess what? Somewhere along the way it started to get fun. I started thinking of it in a few ways: one, that them talking and being engaged and asking me things showed that they liked and respected me, and two, that they have much shorter memories for my embarrassing moments than I do. It helped that I gave them a stern talking-to that said, "I'm not a yeller, I don't like doing it and I shouldn't have to. I listen to you when you speak so I expect you to do the same for me. This isn't high school so I don't want to treat you like you're kids." Then I started working on my Look when I could hear people talking. Then I would call on the people talking if the Look didn't work. And guess what...they got the hint! They would still talk, but apologize or stop when I Looked at them. And then the semester was over and I did real live course evaluations and everything (which I completely forgot to do last spring). And they were GOOD. Of course, they weren't "Amy is AWESOME!," but the things they said that weren't 100% positive were totally legitimate and I agreed with. And there WERE a lot of positives, moreso than I would have expected.

And then, just like a real live professor, I took way too long to grade their final essays (hey, you try wading through approximately 25 essays on "Who is the most positive influence in your life, and why?") and only just finished that up today, to post online tomorrow, despite me telling them it was going to be last week. But I went through all of the steps and I survived and did pretty well and have a lot of ideas of how to be even more successful next fall when I teach it again.

It is a crazy feeling, doing something that scared the crap out of me and not only surviving, but feeling positive about it, and seeing how I grew, both in my ability to do it and my positive feelings about myself. Look at me, I'm learning and growing! Even at the ripe old age of 34.

2007-10-10T15:57:00.001-04:00

Really, Friday Night Lights? REALLY?

After a year of being awesome and realistic and nailing so many details of what life is like for both teenagers and adults, you're going to go with an "I killed your attempted rapist and we panicked and threw his body over the bridge into the river" storyline? Boooooo.

In other television news, I have test-driven Dirty Sexy Money, Big Bang Theory (whoo boy...talk about ASS), Aliens in America, Carpoolers, Reaper, and Gossip Girl....sicking with Aliens and Carpoolers. I have three episodes of Brothers and Sisters, which both the professor and my friend the internet sleuth recommended...but I have yet to feel motivated enough to watch them. I also have Pushing Daisies on the back burner as well, but because the premise seems kind of irritating to me, I've felt little motivation to actually watch it, preferring instead to continue to slog through the jillion What Not to Wears I seem to have found myself obsessively recording.

However, 30 Rock continues to be awse! The Office hasn't been terrible, I started watching America's Next Top Model again cause my sister watches, and I've been weirdly obsessed with Biggest Loser despite the fact nobody is terribly compelling this time around. I think it's because Jillian is back and she kicks some serious ass. Plus Bob grew out his mullet. So it's all good.

2007-10-02T14:16:00.000-04:00

Why yes, I AM OCD. Why do you ask?

Cincinnati Boy (or, ex-boy) always used to say I would make a great stalker, because I get very obsessive about certain things. I remember trying to get a library book in NYC (The Corrections, if you must know, which....not worth the effort!) and not wanting to be on the 1000+ person waiting list. Instead, I just checked online every day to see if a one-week only, no renewal copy had been returned yet to my local branch, then...yes, ran down to said branch as soon as I saw it was there to get it. My dad always uses the phrase "bee in her bonnet" to describe my mom, and...much as I hate to admit it, that expression kind of applies to me.

Right now I have a bee in my bonnet about the Cherry Blossom 10-mile run. Why? I don't know. But it's a run I wanted to do last year in preparation for the half-marathon, only I couldn't get in because apparently literally 20,000 runners register and it's filled within 4 days of registration opening. So I just checked online and saw they finally posted an online date, I emailed myself the link, I have written it in my appointment calendar, I am ALREADY PLOTTING whether or not I can be late to work that day so that I can register at 8:00.00 a.m....people, this is for a race that is in APRIL. And registration starts TWO MONTHS FROM NOW. The hell?

I guess it's nice that life is un-stressful enough that this is what I can focus my energy on? Yes, that's it...the glass is half-full.

2007-09-27T18:48:00.001-04:00

Will I Ever Update Again?

Who knows? It's not a conscious decision by any means, but for whatever reason I haven't felt particularly motivated to write about anything going on in my life. Maybe that's because for once life is surprisingly undramatic. I go to work, I watch TV and read, I run, I go to sleep. The things that occupy my thoughts these days are..well, kind of boring for an online journal. Unless of course you want to hear about the drama between co-workers and continuing shifting alliances! Yeah, I thought not.

2007-09-12T18:31:00.000-04:00

The Lost Summer

Well, this summer, okay this year, was pretty much a disaster. I don't want to say too much because a) you know, public forum, and I do have SOME dignity and b) I'm actually finally ready to move on, but let's just say I'm going to have to write off July 2006-September 2007 as the forgotten year (plus). I guess it kind of sucks to reflect back on the fact that 33 was basically a black vortex of crippling depression unlike any I've experienced since 1995, but I'm working on easing up on the self-flagellation thing, so I'm just going to label it "a learning experience" and hopefully not get too worked up beyond that.

On a happier note, my sister and I went running together for the first time all summer yesterday. As I'd mentioned earlier (and she has discussed as well), surgery on June 4 put her out of commission for six weeks. Then it was hot, motivation was low, blah blah blah. Both of us were still exercising in other ways, and I was semi-regularly doing my bleachers climbing/jogging thing, but straight jogging for any prolonged period of time? Not happening. So we said yesterday we would go for 20 minutes and re-evaluate at that point, continuing for 5 minutes each time until we were done. And...our pace was crap, but we went for thirty minutes, and when we stopped? No urges to barf. It was all good.

And that, almost more than anything else, has brought me back around to feeling more like myself. Okay, not really, but it did sort of reinforce the feeling of "on the mend" I've been having, but only cautiously, as if to acknowledge it would make it disappear again. Prior to the run I was seriously questioning if I wanted to do it anymore, and only feeling like I should because I'd worked so hard to get to the half-marathon level of fitness the previous April and would regret losing it. There's just something about running that in my prior state of couch potatoness I NEVER thought I would like, and that I'd sort of forgotten before yesterday. I can't 100% articulate it, but partially it just makes me feel strong, not just physically, but mentally. Another part is just liking the continued challenge. And for whatever reason, more than step aerobics or weights, running keeps me motivated to eat better. Which, of course, leads to FEELING better. I'm never going to be a total health food junkie, I'm never going to weigh 120, I'm always going to have ice cream for dessert and crave peanut M&Ms. But I CAN eat better, and more fruits and blah blah blah, than I've been doing lately, and the run yesterday snapped me back into that mindset. For the first time today in weeks I didn't buy these giant delicious (yet evil) chocolate chip cookies the snack bar sells at work. I even managed to eat my yogurt for breakfast and carrots for snack (usually they fall by the wayside in favor of the aforementioned cookies). And that's progress....right?

2007-08-29T07:52:00.000-04:00

Amy is...

There is something so very addictive about that beginning. I log into Facebook approximately a jillion times a day to see what my friends all have to say. "Elizabeth is...shocked at how hard it is to enroll her child in kindergarten. George is....watching a spider climb a wall." I don't know what it is, but it's so simple and so open-ended I am endlessly fascinated by it and my attempts to parse how "Amy is..." into a short phrase.

Amy is...

* sleeping way too much lately
* skipping too much work
* relieved in part to have finally grown enough of a spine to dump an unhealthy relationship
* sad in part over conflicting feelings regarding said unhealthy relationship
* worried about work
* stressed about planning her next class
* happy to think that her new co-workers might become actual, real live friends
* never hungry anymore
* needing to get back into running
* looking forward to Gill and the professor coming for a visit this weekend
* bugging her friends way too much
* dying for a certain book to come into the library
* looking forward to picking up the new pornographers CD (waiting at her parents' house!)
* sometimes cautiously optimistic

2007-08-24T19:18:00.001-04:00

Which Austen Girl Are You?

Take the Quiz here!

2007-08-23T22:13:00.001-04:00

Under Pressure

Work is still crazy. School started on Wednesday and while the walk-in traffic has slowed tremendously, the people who do come have a bunch of problems because they not only waited until the last minute, they waited beyond the last minute. Tuesday night I kind of had a little meltdown where, after staying at work for 11 hours, I proceeded to freak out thinking of all the things I still had to do. I still get scared thinking about it. I just feel this tremendous pressure pretty much constantly these days. Everything feels stressful, both inside and outside the office. Making any kind of decision about anything seems overwhelming. But when I am actually there I can't be like that, I have to be the one who has it together, so it just gets all bottled up until it's time to come home and then it kind of hangs over me and invades my brain when I'm driving, when I'm trying to sleep, when I'm exercising, when I'm doing anything more than just watching TV and wallowing in avoidance.

2007-08-08T19:46:00.000-04:00

Work is Crazy

There's nothing more boring than writing about YOUR JOB, but seriously...it's fricking insane right now. Classes start on August 22 and we have two program orientations on August 17 and August 20. So basically my days are spent like this:

a) Arrive between 8:30 and 8:45 a.m., depending on how successful I was at getting out the door on time. Log into the system and download the 20+ emails that arrived between 7 p.m. the night before and the aforementioned arrival time.

b) Read said emails and begin researching all of the answers to the student/parent questions ("Did the system get that I paid my bill?" "I want to switch my PE class, what other options will fit in my schedule?" "I didn't do the FAFSA despite all of your emails and letters telling me to and now I can't pay my bill by tomorrow, which is when it's due. Can you help me?")

c) Deal with students who have shown up without an appointment, which is fine, but...it just makes it hard to plan the day when you have to constantly shove stuff aside for these spontaneous walk-ins.

d) Answer the millions of phone calls that come in from students and parents trying to either set an appointment or get an answer to the email they sent 30 MINUTES AGO

e) Deal with the appointments

f) Try to plan the aforementioned Orientation I'm supposed to be running

...and did I mention two new counselors started while I'm in Scotland, and since my boss travels between two campuses (and is at my campus AT BEST once a week), serve as the de facto trainer for them? So I'm either pretending to be the stupidest student ever so that they can learn how to go about advising and registering (I basically ask every possible question about every step of the way to see how they answer), or sitting through them advising my appointments/walk-ins so that they can get a feel for how it's done. And of course they're learning, but...it takes twice as long BECAUSE they're learning.

Basically I'm supposed to leave at 4 and really hardly ever do anymore. Which is fine, because I love my job and I love what I do. But it also means that I am exhausted. It doesn't help that it's been 95+ every day. But really, the last thing I want to do when I get home at night is look at the 20+ PERSONAL, FUN emails that came in over the day, catch up on what the crazy Big Brother kids are doing (short answer: eating each other alive and/or dissing the Jews, AMBER), etc. About all I want to do is collapse into bed, or on my couch and watch TV.

I love feeling busy and feeling accomplished and competent--it's a self-esteem booster after a crappy year to feel like while my personal life has been a series of unfortunate events, at least in one area of my life I am competent. But I'm very very glad that this is merely a few months of my job. If this were how I had to work 12 months out of the year...I'd go insane and burn out. As it is, I just figure it's karma for all of the months I was out the door at 2 after strolling in at 9 a.m.

2007-08-06T05:54:00.000-04:00

Wipeout

Well, as of Saturday, I have officially entered my last year in the coveted 18-34 year old demographic. That's right bitches, I'm 34 now. And while in general I don't think that's particularly old, it certainly doesn't sound as young as 33 did. I think because I'm approaching mid-30s, which, as you all know, means I'm doomed. I have to start watching only CBS after this year and I can't ever have any hope of meeting anybody to date, because my eggs are all too old and guys are going to want someone in her 20s to bear them children. Not like I particularly want any, but...that's not the point. I'm pretty much joking about the boy thing (of all the things I worry about when I think about "whether or not I'll ever get married," it's never "I'll be too old for anybody to like." More like, "I'm too insane."), but it IS weird to know that my advertising dollars will no longer be needed or wanted after this year. I know, I know, yet another piece of evidence that I watch way too much television if THAT'S what pops into my mind when I think of my age.

Anyway, to celebrate, my sister proposed we go to the beach for the day, her treat. Oh yeah baby! I love anything related to swimming, etc. so I was psyched. Now, last year we went...in July, I think? Pretty much immediately after I moved back. And it, well, kind of sucked. It was freezing, the water was artic-temperatures, and we kind of spent the whole time huddled under towels trying to stop the uncontrollable shivering. Not so this year! One, it has been 90+ for awhile now. Two, as a result of said 90+, the water was, not bathwater warm, but perfectly acceptable warm. We left my sister's house at 6 a.m., had a few minor misturns (seriously, if we ever do go on the Amazing Race, we're going to have to bone up on our map-reading/sign-paying-attention skills, because we made a few silly mistakes), and were on the beach by 9:30 a.m. While she was waiting to get an umbrella and I was saving a spot for us, we were putting on the sunscreen and getting nice and hot so that as soon as we got the umbrella, we could plunge madly towards the sea, which beckoned invitingly at us on the horizon.

It was just a fun, and fast-moving, day. We would go in the water, get back out and warm up/read, go back in, lather, rinse, repeat. We ate greasy bad for you pizza at lunch, I resolutely ignored both the grapes and the orange I'd brought, we had Coldstone Creamery ice cream before we left...it was all good. The drive home was much quicker than it has been in previous years, and we didn't get turned around at all that time, and by 7 I was home for the evening.

The best part: somehow, in my advanced age, I developed a balance/coordination problem. Specifically, I was knocked over TWICE by waves within the first 20 minutes of our first trip into the water. The first time I just underestimated how powerful the wave was going to be (we were only standing knee-deep!) and was shocked to get thrown backwards, but hey, it shortened the "baby steps into the water to warm up" process, so that was good. The second time was funnier--we were trying to get back out of the water when I suddenly saw a giant wave approaching us. I KNEW there was no way I could avoid it, so I just turned around, covered my face with my hands, and held my nose. There was a lot of flipping around underwater and not knowing which way is up before the chaos ended and I was left with my shirt up over my head and my bathing suit trunks down by my knees. Thankfully, because I am sunburn-paranoid, I had a one-piece underneath said trunks, or...that could have been embarrassing.

2007-08-01T00:28:00.000-04:00

We All Lead...the Glamorous Life

I could bore everybody with details of castles and the history of Scotland, but I'm just going to own the fact that while I'm a relatively intelligent individual capable of talking about Deep Things, at heart I'm a tabloid and celebrity whore.

So imagine how psyched I was to realize that the UK is even more into reality tv and famous people than the US. I had heard such talk before, but I figured it was crazy talk that had no basis in reality. Not true, my friends, not true! They had GALLONS of tabloids, some cheap (70p) and a bit more expensive (2 pounds). And I sampled them all.

Some observations:

1). Posh and Becks, both of whom I now love after being the only person to a) watch and b) like "Victoria Beckham: Coming to America," are the Brangelina of the UK world. They had stories in EVERY PAPER about Victoria coming to LA and what she wore her first week, Becks coming along with the kids, blah blah blah. Posh is just hilariously over-the-top and Becks is...well, hot. I don't need anything more from him but just to stand there and look pretty. And it was definitely refreshing to see them owning their silliness rather than Angelina "I'm so noble and brave and...kind of wasting away from never eating" Jolie and whether or not Jen is over Brad and la la la.

2). The UK celebs are a lot more candid than US ones. They'll be very upfront about whether or not they had a boob job, people they like and don't like, etc. Most interestingly, there was one celeb, Kerry something (Katone?), who I don't know what she's famous for, but her house was broken into and she, her husband, and newborn were all locked up in a room while everything valuable they had was stolen. Kerry was so traumatized she had to go to "The Priory" to be treated for depression, and she's had depression issues before and anxiety and all of this brought back her phobia of knives from when "she had to pull a knife from her mother's leg as a child after her stepfather stabbed her mum." Wow, we'd never get that level of detail from anybody here! I have no idea who you are, Kerry Katone, but thanks for telling us all about your life.

3). I'd always heard Big Brother was huge overseas, so of course I was psyched to watch it. Hoo boy, this show is dramatically different from the US version. As any US Big Brother fan knows, it started out being an exact copy of the UK version, only to nearly fall apart from people's lack of interest, so they revamped it to the backstabbing version we all know and love today. However, the UK version is alive and well, and basically it's on EVERY SINGLE DAY. People say the f word constantly (and it's not bleeped), there's more straight up sex and blunt honesty in the diary room (see above comment about UK honesty in general), and there's no strategy talk--because they're not allowed. They nominate who they want to leave and the public decides, leaving them to argue incessantly over "the age of singing pop star Rhihanna," as the British narrator dramatically intoned for us. That's another difference--the fact the show is narrated. Picture this: dramatic music and the time of day flashing on the screen. Dramatic British narrator: "11:35 a.m. Channel and Amanda are in the kitchen." Uh yeah, we can see that! Honestly, I watched the show three times, and it was SO DEADLY DULL. And yet it really IS as hugely popular as I'd heard. One of the people on the show, Gerry, is Greek-British (is that a real word?), and the first night he said, "I'm probably the most famous Greek person in England. If you stopped people on the street and said, "Do you know anybody from Greece?" they'd say, "Yeah, Gerry from Big Brother!"" At first I burst out laughing because dude, you're on BIG BROTHER. But he's right. Big Brother was in all the tabloids, and even the daily print newspapers. The morning show talked Big Brother every day, followed by a truncated version of what had aired the previous night. I really don't get it, because just as it was boring to watch Americans on TV all day without the genius of editing their highs and lows into one moment, so it is with British people. Weird.

2007-07-30T04:52:00.000-04:00

Top of the (early) morning to you, my wee readership

Above: the top of Ben Nevis, an awesome mountain in Fort William, on the West Coast of Scotland.

More later. Topics to be covered: Harry Potters 4-7, the insane amount of European candy that has returned with me, jet lag (bed last night at 6:30 p.m., up at 2 this morning. Okay, that topic's been covered!), travelling with your family, why Continental and flying in general sucks, and of course, all the celebrity (and "celebrity") stuff the UK has to offer.

2007-07-19T12:17:00.001-04:00

European Vacation

I haven't abandoned Harry Potter and the Final Countdown, though it is painfully evident I will not be able to read 2.5 books, all of which are at least 600 pages, between now and Saturday. I have hit Harry Potter overload! I'm halfway through #4, and I'm starting to hate reading. I think it's because it's about pressure vs. pleasure.

So tomorrow I am off to Scotland for a week with my parents, sister, and Joey F. The last time we all traveled together was pre-Joey F, in June 2000, when my parents, sister, and 10 other family members went to Ireland for a week. While that was an awesome trip in some ways, it was a heinous one in the sense that my sister hated me by the end. I'm thinking this time will be less painful, though, because a) it's just the 5 nuclear family members, and b) my sister and I won't be sharing a hotel room. At the very least I'll be sure to stock up on lots of European candy (if they don't have the Wispamint, I will fall into a puddle of despair and conclude it must have been discontinued! Cross your fingers), books with cool British covers (White Teeth, the only Zadie Smith I don't own), and floaty pens. Oh, and the new Harry Potter....natch.

2007-07-17T09:56:00.000-04:00

Harry Potter and the Final Countdown, vol. 2

#3, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Most people I know claim this one as either their favorite or very near the top, and for the longest time I was like, whatever. I mean, it was OKAY, but...it just didn't grab me. As my awesome sister Mrs. P pointed out, Harry's tendency to accidentally overhear whispered conversations not intended for his ears had reached critical mass in this volume and he found out way too much information that way. Thankfully this device became less-used in future books, because it got really old in this one.

That said, this time it was a lot more interesting for whatever reason. One, the pacing was better, so Sirius Black finally showed himself something like 100 pages from the end rather than 30 or so, meaning a long, drawn-out series of revelations (of the good kind--not rushed, in other words), followed by yet ANOTHER exciting series of events, etc. Two, there was a nice balance between wrapping up some previous plot threads (the mystery behind how previously Harry's dad saved Snape's life, e.g.) as well as a lot of setup for future conflicts (just why Snape hates Harry so much). As Mrs. P emailed me yesterday, the tone in general shifts and we see JK Rowling finding her footing and moving in a more mature direction, etc.

Interestingly, this was the first (and last) time a book ended without some kind of battle between Harry and Voldemort. I kind of liked that, it was an interesting turn of events. I didn't remember it was that way though until I finished this one.

By the way, this was the first time I actually got excited and cared about a Quidditch match. Not sure how she made THAT happen but usually I flip through those parts to find out who won...but this time I forced myself to read the narration and got really tense (even though I knew the outcome, of course).

I am now PSYCHED for Harry Potter #4. I started it last night but only got through the first chapter. However, work was kind of slow yesterday afternoon and I had time to finish most of #3...hopefully I'll have a fair amount of time today as well to start plowing through Goblet of Fire.

Insomnia update: I thought it really WAS a two-day only streak because I slept fine on Sunday night. However, I fell asleep at a normal time yesterday (10:00), was woken up at about 10:45 by a phone call, and by the time I hung up 45 minutes later, was wide awake until almost 1. I passed the time by watching two Wonder Years reruns (another update: still awesome), but found myself wide awake again before my alarm went off at 5. Fortunately I feel less anxious about the whole thing and know that this too will pass...hopefully soon, though.

2007-07-16T09:15:00.000-04:00

Harry Potter and the Final Countdown

After seeing the Harry Potter movie on Saturday (best one EVER! Helena Bonham Carter RULES! She needed more screentime, man), I was inspired to get off my ass and do what I'd planned to do for months, which is re-read all six books in anticipation of Harry Potter #7 coming out THIS WEEK! So yesterday I read all of #1, all of #2, and am about 1/3 of the way through #3. I hope to at least get through #4 before I leave for Scotland, since #4-6 are HUGE, and that way I only have to pack two giant ones that I can read as rapidly as possible so that I can start #7 about 20 seconds after we land and buy our glorious British copies in the Edinburgh airport. Or something like that.

What's funny is how my opinions have dramatically changed from the last time I read them...the most I'd read any of them before this time was twice, and some (#6) I've only read once. So before this project I would have ranked them like this: #5, #2, #4, #3, #1. (No, I didn't include #6...that's cause I barely remember any of it so its place in the rankings had yet to be solidified.) But now? Well, it's still a work in progress obviously, but let's just say that #2, tragically, isn't as awesome as I remembered.

#1, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's (Sorcerer's) Stone: This was the third time for this one and it was less Basil Exposition-ridden than I'd remembered from the past. What was cool and surprising was how, when Hagrid dropped Harry off at the Dursley's, he said he was arriving via Sirius Black's motorcycle. Sirius Black!! I didn't remember that; how awesome. Anyway, the setup is still kind of slow (it takes 40 pages for Hagrid to show up, and before that all we see are the Dursleys running from the jillions of letters Harry's been getting), but it was less annoying and boring than times of the past.

#2, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: The reason this used to be one of my top favorites was that it was so exciting from the very beginning. The flying car! Ginny's in trouble! Hermione's been petrified! Harry is scared he's secretly the true descendant of Slytherian! Unfortunately, on this reading I realized it really WASN'T so exciting from the very beginning. In fact, both this one and the first one suffered some serious pacing problems, in the sense that there was a whole lot of worrying and fussing and then the true action didn't occur until about 30 pages from the end.

Coming soon...#3!

2007-07-15T07:43:00.000-04:00

Insomnia Sucks

I don't know if I should even bother to write anything else because I just so succinctly summed it up. If you've never experienced it before, I hope you never do. But basically I'll be reading, or watching television, or whatever, and like any normal person get more and more sleepy as the night progresses...until I turn off the light. Then I'm wide awake. Fun!

But it doesn't stop there. When I DO manage to fall asleep, it's a really tense kind of sleep where I'm aware the whole night that I'm sleeping. I tend to wake up a few times during the night under normal circumstances--bathroom, too hot, whatever--but these times it's more like a jolt awake and then I'm wide awake for awhile. And just when I start to REALLY fall asleep...the alarm goes off.

I am miserable right now because I am currently working on night two of a new streak. Two nights in a row doesn't seem so bad, I know...except I know it's only the beginning. I've gotten it with increasing regularity since I moved back (before then I maybe got it once a year...now it's more like every six weeks or so, although before this bout I'd managed to go a whole TWO MONTHS) and I'm sick of it. And I know the key is to DECREASE anxiety levels, but not being able to sleep just makes me MORE anxious, which is what I'm feeling right now.

Jesus, I sound like a basket case, don't I? I just need to get through today and hopefully going back to work tomorrow will keep me busy and occupied enough that it will be a short-lived bout. And of course this upcoming Friday we all (me, parents, sister & her husband) go to Scotland...so maybe the change of scenery/time zones will help. Right?

2007-07-13T14:56:00.001-04:00

A Less Successful Post-80s Transition

On the flip side of the coin, I was PSYCHED when I read that Kate and Allie is now rerunning on WE, or some other variation of that type of station. So once again, I taped a bunch, being sure to skip the annoying episodes (Chip befriends a homeless man who is "special" springs to mind)...

Only to discover that whoo boy, something smells rotten in my living room and since I showered that day, it's not me. Yowza! So much so wrong. Even the episode I remember LOVING--Emma runs for class president and it turns out her opponent is dying of leukemia--was painful. No laughter, no rueful recognition, etc. Emma was still cute as a button (which is how I remembered the first time), but the clothes were awful, the hair was horrible, and I somehow found myself unable to get past the entire premise of the show. Two moms, two teenage girls (oh yeah, and Chip) all living together in blissful harmony in Greenwich Village (on two single mom's salaries no less)? Uh, no. No fighting, it didn't matter to the two teenage girls that they were together 24/7 because not only did they go to school together, they SHARED A ROOM. And they never fought with their mom(s), they had no problem talking about cute boys they liked or whatever to their mom...etc.

Now all I have to do is remember to go on to Netflix and remove the S1 DVD from my queue...

2007-07-12T09:15:00.000-04:00

Tripping Down Memory Lane

The other night I was flipping through the cable online guide when what should I discover is in syndication? THE WONDER YEARS. I promptly taped a bunch of the episodes (skipping over ones I remembered as being especially painful...such as when Kevin broke up with Becky and she promptly told Winnie all the trash he'd talked about her), and then forgot about it again until my sister was over one night last week and we were desperate for something to watch, since our plan to go swimming was foiled by it not being hot enough.

"Whaaaaat would you dooooooooooooooo if I sang...outoftune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?" Talk about INSTANT flashbacks, man. I was immediately in my parents' basement back in high school with that introduction to the theme song. It was crazy! I had never caught any reruns since the show was on originally, so I had this whole amazing time warp thing going on that doesn't occur when I catch other shows of my youth on TV, like Family Ties or A Different World (the other two I think have held up the best since I loved them in their original incarnation). It still kind of unnerves me a bit that I had such an immediate and deep reaction to a freaking television show. But a reaction I did, and while I don't run home immediately to watch the latest ones taped, every time I start watching I'm just in awe.

What I love about the show now is how it really works on two levels, for both adults and kids. There's such a bittersweet wistfulness to the narration that makes the fact he's an adult looking back on his youth so believable...but when you're a kid, you don't get that "in retrospect" perspective. You're just focusing on the fact Kevin gave Winnie his heart and she gave him a pen...or rather, that he wrote he loved her in her yearbook and she wrote "Have a neat summer!" There was an episode on the other day where Kevin was a total prick to a weirdo girl because even though he secretly thought she was really interesting...they were in seventh grade, and you don't defy social conventions. It just worked on so many levels that I'm kind of shocked at how very good it was. Not to mention the soundtrack KICKS ASS. Two of the episodes I've seen recently have ended with Simon & Garfunkel songs (Photograph, Scarborough Fair/Canticle) that have been absolutely perfect and practically made me burst into tears.

Unfortunately, when I googled "wonder years" to find an appropriate image to post, I read that one of the difficulties in getting it out on DVD is the fact that they need the rights to all the amazing songs. But for now let me just say if you get this show in syndication, wherever you are, WATCH IT. It's still really good! (When Kevin's not being a self-absorbed dick, which even during the show's run I sometimes felt he was being.)

2007-07-03T09:52:00.000-04:00

I am going to hell.

So, because I am secretly still 12, I am on facebook and myspace and all that groovy stuff. I don't have very many myspace friends, but my facebook list is growing daily. Why, you ask? Because all of my former students from Cincinnati keep adding me. So I have a weird combination of an ex-fling, my college roommate and her sister, a few other real-life friends....and a bunch of teenagers. And nothing, I might say, is creepier than when you look at one of their profiles and see their date of birth as the year you graduated from high school. Oh my.

Anyway, I was looking at the profiles of the two students who added me today. And one of them, who, god love him, is so clearly not straight, had the balls to say "interested in: women" in his profile. Am I a complete bitch for bursting out laughing when I saw that? Cause I kind of did. And I kind of am still chuckling now.

2007-07-01T21:43:00.000-04:00

Movie Review: Sicko

In the interests of moving on and not dwelling on sucky things I can't control (like the secret agent choir boy and how even though I mostly know I did the right thing, being unable to stop hating myself for the completely ridiculous thing I did that effectively killed what little iota of hope I might have been able to cling on to had I not done something stupid), I went to see Michael Moore's Sicko yesterday afternoon. It was...okay. I used to worship at the altar of Michael Moore and still have my signed copy of Downsize This! back from 1996, when the professor and I saw him speak in Harvard Square, but time and maturity (as in, I have, and he has not) have kind of tempered my love for him, big-time. I still remember the moment that absolutely killed it. It was 9/12/01, when, as a member of his email list, I got a message from him that effectively said, "Yes, al-Qaeda, we completely suck as a country and I am SO SORRY we have done all of these things to your people." Now, regardless of whether or not I agree with him (and I can certainly understand why not everybody thinks America is the greatest), his timing was complete crap. Not to mention there was no reasoning, no measured response. It was just...pure emotion. No attempt to make people understand his position, just browbeat them into getting his point. Which is Michael Moore to a T.

That said, while Michael Moore has never claimed to be fair and balanced, this movie was a lot more even-tempered and a lot more reasoned than either Bowling for Columbine or Fahrenheit 9/11 were. It was a more mature movie for him, and it wasn't quite as preaching to the converted as the others were. Nobody was going to change an opinion on W or gun control just from watching either of those movies, you know? But I think it is possible to not necessarily come around to universal health care, but certainly get why so many people are so anti-HMO and anti for-profit health insurance. The system IS broken, and Michael Moore for once is able to demonstrate how without being a complete asshole about it.

Unfortunately, the most famous segment (Michael Moore takes 9/11 workers to Cuba) makes no sense in the rest of the movie and reeks of his usual "Look at me, I want attention!" shtick. Not to mention his usual glib tendency to overlay serious points with pop music and old movie/television clips, making his movies look more like MTV "rockumentaries"...and I can't even mention the most offensive, attention-grabbing stunt of all because it has somehow escaped notice in all of the reviews I've read thus far, so I don't want to spoil it for anybody.

Just when I was about to fall asleep from boredom, however, Michael Moore busted out a line that nearly made me burst into tears (and I think I would have even if I hadn't been in my hyper-emotional state this weekend)...something to the effect of, "If people ever stopped being controlled by debt and fear of rocking the status quo...amazing things could happen." And it's moments such as those that make me incapable of completely writing him off. He said it a lot more poetically than I, but the sentiment is exactly something I feel, not just as an individual, or a city, or a country, but as a society in general. We are conditioned to be held back by our fears, to avoid making change out of uncertainty of what will come of it. People in power over us--whether it is our government or friends/families/significant others--thrive on that fear of rocking the boat to keep us in line. At another point in the movie, someone (not Michael Moore) said, "If the poor people of this country ever unified and got together to vote, there would be a revolution." It's true. And the people in power know that, and that's why they do everything they can to prevent poor people from figuring out that not only do they have a voice, if they worked together, they'd have a pretty fucking powerful one.

That line just affected me so deeply, not just in a political way, but a personal one...which only occurred to me as I started writing this. Despite the fact I live with anxiety every day and seem constitutionally incapable of NOT getting overly stressed about everything in my life, I don't want those fears to control me and dictate where my life goes. I really do try to force myself to do things that scare me--not stupid shite like bungee jumping, but moving, changing jobs, whatever--because I don't ever want to look back and know that I let uncertainty get in my way. And that's when I feel the most empowered and in control of my life...when I reflect on chances I've taken and how, even if they didn't work out for the best, I at least jumped in and tried them. I want to keep being that way, and I hope I don't change that desire to be that way. I hope that as the moments of being sad and crying and missing the choir boy become less frequent (and, thank god, they are a little, even just two days after the fact), I can look back on what happened and view it as a growing experience, not a source of regret. I think I will be able to. I hope I will, at any rate.

2007-06-30T09:44:00.001-04:00

Milestones

Well, one year ago today I was somewhere on the road from Cincinnati to Washington DC in my car, my mom in hers and my dad driving the moving truck hauling all of my worldly possessions. In some ways it has been a spectacularly horrific year. In fact, except for 1995 (the year after I graduated from Oberlin) it has probably been the worst year of my life. But I guess that's the point of the Year of Growth. That it's not an easy and happy smiletime process...there are tears and anger and self-doubt and stress.

I am so sad right now because right when I'd gotten to a place where I didn't feel like urgently dating someone, I met the secret agent choir boy. And I liked him A LOT. And he seemed to feel the same way. And for the first time while I had moments of insecurity and anxiety, they were, like, .00001% of what they usually were. This was someone who didn't make me feel bad about myself, who liked and accepted me as I was. I felt normal and like I had some active role in what happened...I wasn't just rushing into something out of fear of getting dumped if I didn't move at his exact pace.

Of course, having said that and finally starting to relax and being all happy that a month of this had come along and while nobody was going crazy and declaring love, plans and assumptions were being made that we would be together for at least a little bit...it ended on Thursday night/yesterday morning. And while I rationally know it was for the best and can forsee a time when I will be philosophical/positive about the experience (because for the first time ever I stuck to my guns and said what he was wanting was not going to make ME happy, so nevermind)...right now all I can do is miss him. And cry, and sleep, and feel like throwing up and not eating...all the normal stuff I guess. But I hate the normal stuff!

Changing and becoming a stronger and better version of yourself is a messy process. There are ups and downs. This year there have been so many of them, from moving to a new (old) city to finding a new job to trying to make new friends to doing the dating thing in earnest. It sucks that even four days ago I was thinking about writing a one-year anniversary entry about how it was a hard year, but it's evolved into a great year. But of course that's not what wound up happening. And I guess I should be happy that even as I am sitting around being sad, it's a different, less horrible sad than earlier this year. There's no "this is evidence of how I really really suck" going on. But sad is sad, you know? There's nothing I can do but ride it out.

2007-06-26T12:49:00.000-04:00

Summertime TV RULES

I LOVE this new (okay, not that new) trend of basically having new shows year-round. And I ESPECIALLY love just how very trashy the summertime shows are. Take Big Brother, for example. As soon as September rolls around my interest in watching a thrice-weekly show plummets big-time, but for now? I'm counting down the days until July 5, baby. I cannot wait to see what morons show up and what insane trashy things Big Brother will have them do. I also love obsessively reading online to find out what's going on, courtesy of live feeds. I'm not so far gone that I will actually WATCH the live feeds, but god bless those crazy kids who will obsessively detail every minute and then thoughtfully provide you tube links for the highlights. I STILL have the clip from BB6 when Howie went off on April, big-time. I can't express how sad I am that I will miss a week of live feed updates while I am in Scotland...I haven't yet decided if I'm bringing my laptop (pros: stay connected to the world, email, being able to charge my ipod so I can listen to it for longer than the flight over, etc...cons: dragging my laptop all over the country and dealing with the hassle of getting special adaptors, etc). Anyway, the point is, July 5 means nothing but smiletimes, my friends.

And then we have Age of Love, which even *I* am not watching, but makes me laugh hysterically nonetheless. One, what does it say for regular folks that a fucking Grand Slam tennis player has to do a television dating show to find a girlfriend? Of course, it IS Mark "Frankenstein" Phillippoussis, whom I have never found attractive (I am all about Patrick Rafter, baby...and yes that's a player from 10 years ago, who cares, he was Australian and played serve and volley. Whoo boy), so I suppose it makes more sense. But what makes it even funnier is the fact it couldn't just be a regular Bachelor-type show...it's one involving the slang term that sends me into giggles even just THINKING it--COUGARS. Older women "preying" on younger men, that is. Yeah it's sexist as hell, but it's funnier than it is offensive. At least to me. So Mark gets thrown however many cougars to go along with however many "kittens" (lame!) , and he has to then go through the regular courtship rituals...at least as they apply to reality dating shows. But really. Who the hell thinks this show is remotely real? Cause it's so obviously stacked for the cougars it's not even funny. One, they all seem to have had a lot of plastic surgery so they don't actually look their (alleged) ages. Two, the kittens are morons. Unless Mark has NO savvy whatsoever, he's obviously supposed to prove he can look past such "superficialities" as age differences. Of course, I suppose I can hope he IS a total moron...cause that would be pretty fricking funny.

And finally, every time you think the Isaiah Washington/Grey's Anatomy controversy is going to go away, good old Isaiah has to come out and poke the crazy a little more. I don't actually watch Grey's, because I find everything about it so very nauseating (that's another entry for another day...), but I can't stop reading about this story. It started off as an innocent little tale of homophobia and has now become a story of how T.R. Knight is actually a PR/spin genius. I don't know if it's true, but I love every update that comes my way. And really, if it IS....the White House might want to think about hiring on TR Knight. Because if he really IS a complete asshole using this to get more publicity so that his character will get more airtime? Damn TR, that's genius.

2007-06-25T10:13:00.000-04:00

Workout from Hell

Inspired by an article I read in Shape magazine, I decided to try to take on a new type of run...one that incorporated stairs. This seemed like a good idea for two reasons: one, I don't generally run outside except for with others (in other words, once a week at best, rarely if ever now due to my sister's surgery), so this would be good to get used to hills, and two, when I went on a hike this weekend in Harper's Ferry...there was a lot of uphill climbing. I did fine, but I definitely could feel it.

So this morning I went to the track at my old alma mater high school and proceeded to run a lap, then climb up and down the bleacher stairs seven times before getting back on the track, running again, lather, rinse, repeat. I modified the way the article outlined (it involved sideways bleacher climbing at one point) and thought since I'd made it easier I'd be able to go longer than their prescribed 40 minutes, but nonetheless, when those 40 minutes were up? I was DONE. After the first lap and getting used to the 62% humidity (at 6:30 a.m. no less!) I never had breathing issues, but my legs were just rubbery and rebelling by the end. Whoo boy.

I lost track of how many laps I actually ran, but at best the actual RUNNING part was only 1.25 miles (since I walked the first two as a warm-up and never ran a FULL lap each time, more like 3/4 of one as I approached the bleachers). Still, I don't know if it's because I woke up at 4:30 a.m. unable to fall back asleep, the fact it was a lot more stairclimbing than I'm used to, or some combination of the two...but here it is, 10:20, and I'm ready to go back to bed. Only 10 more hours or so until I can...

2007-06-24T16:45:00.000-04:00

Music as poetry

All these things, should make me happy
Make me happy to be home again

Got myself a bottle of red wine
Got a night with nothing else to do
I think I might know what I really want
But is a brighter discontent the best that I can hope to find?

But love is not these belongings that surround you
Though there's meaning in the memories they hold
A breaking heart in an empty apartment
Was the loudest sound I never heard

Brighter Discontent – The Submarines

2007-06-22T13:21:00.000-04:00

A rant in which I get a bit political...or something

People think it's funny when I say I cry easily, because they think I'm kidding. I'm not. I almost burst into tears earlier this morning when my ID card wouldn't let me make copies...until I started thinking of calm blue oceans and how I could work around it. So yes, I am a crier, and I own it. What else can I do? I'm 33 years old, and I'm not really going to change at this point, much as it would be nice to.

Anyway, so another near-tears incident just occurred as I was wading through the most tedious project ever--manually checking all 250 of my students' records in the system to see where they are in the process. I know my boss thinks I am insane and making things harder on myself, but as this check is revealing, while those things may be true, they're also necessary. Because easily 50% of my students have already taken the placement tests needed to register for the fall, but only about 12% of them have informed me of this fact. Um, people! I am here to help! I don't have to walk you to the testing center, but at least let me know what's going on! Long-windedly and circumnavigating my way to the point, I'm checking even the ones I KNOW I have registered, just to be thorough, when I looked up the record of one of my favorite students. Yes, he's registered, and yes, not only did he take the placement tests, he kicked some fucking ass in them, scoring between 91 and 99 on all of the math parts, including trig (which, trust me, is a major accomplishment, considering most of my students stall out at the algebra stage).

So why is that cause for tears, you ask? Why, because of his immigration status. You see, while he is here on a legal, valid visa...it's not one that qualifies him for in-state tuition. And that means he has to pay 3 times what others pay to come here. There's no way his family can afford that. In fact, when he emailed me the situation, he said, "So I'm going to have to hold off on registering for awhile." I promptly put him in the classes we'd chosen anyway because payment isn't due until August 3, I'm hoping we can work something out with financials, etc, and would hate to have him lose spots due to classes filling up...but it doesn't look good for my poor surfer student from Bangladesh. And that upsets me tremendously. I HATE that a fucking brilliant student like this guy can't even come to freaking community college because of money issues, that because since he's neither a citizen nor a permanent resident, he isn't going to be eligible for many scholarships/financial aid (which he certainly would get if he COULD, because both his grades and test scores--even ye old standardized ones like SAT--are phenomenal). I hate that undocumented students are financially penalized for choices that their parents made when they were babies. I don't even blame the parents--nobody leaves a happy life full of promise and prosperity in one country to try to eke out an existance in another one where everything, including the language, is foreign. I understand why the parents do it, but I hate that the kids are the ones who have the hardest time of it.

The truth of the matter is that in some ways the college I work for is "progressive." After all, a lot of colleges in VA won't even ADMIT undocumented students. And I understand the logic of WHY these students pay out of state tuition--because their families (theoretically) aren't paying tuition, so it's not "fair" that the VA taxpayers are supporting their education when the families aren't contribution to it. (Except most undocumented students I know DO pay taxes....but that's another thought for another day.) But certainly the students and families don't feel "lucky" when presented with a bill three times what their classmates are paying. What's even more heartbreaking is that they aren't even mad about it. They understand that's how it works, and they accept it, and they sadly tell me that well, they'll just take one class this semester. We don't really say anything when that comes up, we just both imagine precisely how long it's going to take to earn a 60-credit associate's degree when you're taking 3-4 credits at a time.

I don't claim to have any solutions. I can understand why the system works the way it does, even though I hate so many parts of it. But knowing why something is the way it is doesn't stop me from feeling bad for students who are affected by the policies and wishing I could do more than just be upfront with how it's going to be for them, and sympathetic that it has to be that way.

Really deep thoughts for a Friday afternoon, to be sure! Good thing I'm leaving in about 2 hours to visit my convalescing sister.

2007-06-18T17:02:00.000-04:00

Okay, there was no review of Pirates of Caribbean 3. There's not much to say about that other than...it was long. Frankly I don't remember much but the theater (Uptown? Upland? Something downtown) was kickass. Balcony, big screen, the whole nine yards. I'm going back there definitely.

Updating a journal is like not emailing your friends for ages. Eventually it's like, wow, so much has happened, where do I start? I guess you can't really do much other than dive in and wade through everything you can think of. To start, two weeks ago today my sister had surgery to remove fibroid tumors from outside of her uterus. (Since she has talked about it over on Tiny Accoutrements I don't think she'd mind me announcing it.) When we first found out we were all kind of nervous about it, just not knowing what was going to happen, etc. And of course, nobody likes the word "tumor," particularly when said near the word "uterus." Thankfully they were just cysts as the doctor had said, and even more thankfully she has really rapidly recovered. She's not ready to go running again or anything (even if the doctor hadn't said she had to wait six weeks), but really, considering they cut into her stomach, I think all is well. I visited her a bunch while she was convalescing and by the end we were walking around her neighborhood for fairly long stretches. So, yay for that.

I also joined a softball team in my continuing quest to develop a life outside of a) three date-long boys and b) people I've known my whole life, which, don't get me wrong, is nice, but I do need to have a wider social network. Unfortunately my softball team is filled with a bunch of drama queens and we devolved from hanging out on weekends for cookouts and karaoke to showing up when the game starts and leaving as soon as it's over. Oh well, I'm playing softball, which...I never thought I would do, ever, so, yay for me.

I went to NYC this past weekend and saw a cool exhibit at the Met and got a fancy pedicure and bought a new skirt and just generally enjoyed being off work. I actually wound up settting up my whole summer so that every two weeks or so I have some sort of vacation to look forward to. While on the bus I read a book that can only be described as "fucking awesome"--Jennifer Belle's Little Stalker. It's quite possibly even more amazing than the last book I so absolutely adored (Patrick Neate's City of Tiny Lights), but honestly it's kind of a close call. Patrick might get the edge, just cause he's so hot. But both really are incredible.

Graduation from the high schools last week, and I am PSYCHED to be able to go to one place--the college I work for--every day rather than a different high school each day. I mean, last Thursday I actually left all of my shit in an office and walked out with just a purse and my lunch bag. It was weird, and wonderful, and crazy all at once. Of course, I now have to get used to working like real people, 8:30-5 and all that...and dealing with the gallons of students who ignored me all school year. Seriously, man--yesterday, ON MY VACATION, I spent awhile dealing with work emails that had come in whilst Gill slept so that I could come back tomorrow not feeling slammed. I enrolled people in classes, changed schedules, etc. And what should happen when I check my email this afternoon back in VA? 17 new messages. Good god.

These things are only the tip of the iceberg of the life of amy these days...but overall it's a good life. More to come, hopefully sooner rather than later.

2007-06-04T07:33:00.000-04:00

Pirates of the Caribbean, Part Two: Seven Words are All You Need

Keira Knightley's teeth are jacked up, man.

Coming soon: a review of Pirates of the Caribbean, Part Three!

2007-06-01T14:00:00.000-04:00

Another 5K in my Future

Since my poor sister has to have surgery this upcoming Monday and will be out of running commission for at least the next six weeks, we decided to run one more race this weekend as a last hurrah. So the Kelley Cares (thank god they didn't try to get cute and call it the Kelley Kares) Foundation 5K tomorrow it is, 88 degree weather be damned! I'd say it's early enough that the temperature shouldn't matter, but....it was disgustingly humid when I left for work this morning at 8 a.m., so I don't think that matters.

Honestly, wandering off-topic for a moment, I don't know what it is about DC summers that knock me on my ass. I guess it's the fact that the air really is pretty heinous here. I don't know how I didn't notice last summer they had "orange days" and "red days" and other brightly colored days designed to indicate how nasty (or relatively clean) the air was...but I was horrified when I heard such designations existed. Blecch. It just saps all my energy and makes me feel like shite. Even today, walking three blocks from my parked car to the store to register for the race, then walking back...I felt incredibly gross and unhappy. Even more bizarrely, yahoo weather claims it's only 84 today. Who with the huh? They qualify it with "feels like 87," but...yeah, whatever. The point is, I suck in heat.

Anyway, getting back on-topic, when Mrs. P said her goal was to do the 5K in 30 minutes, I flashed back to my painful, painful pre-half-marathon near-barfing 5K run of last month. I am choosing to ignore those terrifying memories though in favor of believing that "I've learned from my mistakes." I will drink tons of water beforehand, I will eat more than a crappy little muffin, and I won't go flying out of the gate. And we WILL be successful!

2007-05-30T07:22:00.000-04:00

Why I Can Never Be a Book Reviewer

City of Tiny Lights is fucking brilliant, man. And Patrick Neate is the hottest author on the planet. Four stars!

Wait, you want me to say MORE? Isn't that enough? Le sigh. Okay, but when I describe it...the book doesn't sound so great. But basically it's about a Pakistani-British detective named Tommy Akhtar who is called upon by a hooker to locate her missing hooker friend. Or, in the vernacular of Tommy boy (as his father calls him), Melody, aka exoticmelody hires him to find Natasha aka Natalya aka sexyrussian.co.uk. The back of the book describes it as a modern-day Raymond Chandler novel, which....well I've never read Raymond Chandler so I can't comment. But the mood he creates is pitch perfect, the prose is brilliant and hilarious, and the story is really good and got me through my endless nine-hour train ride back from Boston on Monday (stupid trains running over stupid shopping carts on stupid tracks...the BUS never has those problems, I tell you). And wait, did I mention Patrick Neate is fucking hot? Cause he is. If you don't want to take my word for how cool this book is, Nick Hornby blurbed him, and he's fucking published and everything (not just on blogspot), so trust him at least, right?

And I'm going to Scotland in about six weeks and I get to buy more of his books with their cool British covers. Yeah baby.

2007-05-23T07:33:00.000-04:00

Read (some of) This

This summer I didn’t have a job, and Bill’s Evil Twin was kind enough to invite me to hang out at his house a lot while he was working. It may seem weird to read books, play the piano, and surf the web at someone else’s house instead of your own, but it did make me feel less lonely and more like I was out and having a life. Plus, he had cool books I hadn’t read, including A.M. Homes’s The End of Alice, which if you haven’t read it, is creepy as hell (but good). If you like Mary Gaitskill, which I do, you’ll like it, and her.

Anyway, so she has a new book out, non-fiction, called The Mistress’s Daughter. Basically it’s about the fact she’s adopted and her biological mom eventually sought HER out and contacted HER, and how she (A.M. Homes) struggled to form relationships with both bio-mom and bio-dad.The first half was really interesting, especially because her (biological) mom is a manipulative control freak with no sense of personal boundaries, and her bio-dad is…well, kind of an asshole. The first two sections were about those relationships, and ended when she was no longer going to be in contact with bio-mom (what specifically happened is a SPOILER, so I will spare you). I read that part really fast, and then came to an abrupt screeching halt when A.M. Homes started doing genealogical research on her ancestry. I mean really, I find my own ethnic heritage really boring and dull, so why would I care about hers? Does it really matter to me if a grandmother is Lithuanian?

I peeked ahead and saw that the fourth section has some header that implies it’s going to be about her relationship with her dad again, but I still don’t feel inspired enough to slog through the ancestry part to get there. I read another book after that one, some magazines on my trip in an effort to avoid picking that book up again, and am looking at two or three others I want to read rather than return to it, even if it does promise to eventually return to its previously engaging ways. Never has a book plummeted so quickly and without any warning whatsoever. So the moral of this story is, if you’re planning to write a story about your freaky yet psychologically fascinating family, don’t talk about your ancestral roots. At least, not if you want me to care.

********
Updates on both this entry and the previous one:

I finished the book last night and even after the geneological stuff ended and it returned to "my father is an asshole," it kind of went down in flames. So I recommend the first two parts only! There were some beautiful prose lines, though. Interestingly, I didn't notice before, but one of the people on the back of the book quoted was Mary Gaitskill...I guess I'm not the only one who makes that comparison.

Also, through the miracles of being militantly diligent before going down in flames, I managed to LOSE .4 from my starting WW weight, despite the debacle that was Cincinnati (I mean really, did I NEED both french toast AND chocolate chip pancakes at the all you can eat breakfast buffet with Green and company? Just so you don't think I'm exaggerating my debauchery). So I'm hoping being militantly diligent between now and...well, tomorrow night at 10:00, when I leave for Boston, will make me stay the same while I'm there.

Finally, old habits die hard and I referred to "the professor, Gill, and the law student"...but the law student is no more! She is the law school graduate! Eventually she will become the lawyer, after passing the bar and all that...but for now she's ABE (All But Exam, cause I'm clever like that).

2007-05-22T15:51:00.000-04:00

Hello, old friends: a story in 3 parts

1). So last week I re-joined weight watchers for two reasons. One, my pal Gill was going to try it out so I was going for solidarity, and two, I have regained a bit of weight that on the surface is not a big deal, but I wasn't immediately taking it off the way I had before and didn't want it to start becoming a slippery slope of "It's just a few pounds, I won't get too worked up about it," until a few more cycles of that suddenly turns into a 20-pound weight gain. At first it was really cool to be back in the swing of obsessively tracking everything I ate (what can I say, it appeals to my borderline-OCD side), and then I promptly fell into a dark abyss of vacationness and am depressed about my eating failures. I mean really, when I start reflecting back on everything from this past weekend? Oi. I am FREAKING OUT, especially since I am about to go to Boston and probably have another bad cycle. When I get back from Boston, I am confident I will get back on track...but I would like to a) not feel unable to control myself on vacations, and b) not have to start from even higher than I already was starting from to get back on track. I have told Gill and the law student and the professor about my desire to Be Good, so hopefully I will actually manage to...Be Good.

2). More meaningfully, I went back to Cincinnati this weekend to see my former students graduate from my former place of employment. Because I can never just do anything without overanalyzing it to death, I was scared beforehand it was going to be a sucky experience, just coming back to a city that caused me sadness. But you know what? It wasn't like that at all. One, even though I didn't like the city much, didn't fit in well, and ultimately broke up with the reason I went there (Cincinnati Boy), it wasn't a hugely DEPRESSING experience. There were plenty of good times there, and even the breakup, while yucky, did not put me into a horrible depression. It was a normal recovery process, in other words, and now that I have recovered, I visited the city and had a fine time. I got to see my friend Green and his family, and we got to play Scrabble and Boggle, and I got to shop and see 28 weeks later (my one-word review: eh) and see friends from the school and stay in a hotel, which is always fun. And then when I woke up at 4:45 this morning and said, "I just want to come home," I packed up my stuff and got on the road, getting back here at about 1:15, which was also nice.

It was weird to come back to the school, because I'm not one to look back into my past and revisit places I've left. I tend to stay in touch with people I like but not revisit INSTITUTIONS per se (e.g., I would never in a million years go to my high school reunion, and as much as I love people from when I worked in NYC, I haven't been back there). But it was good to go there, to see people I liked and cared about, and know that leaving was the right decision to make. As much as I have struggled to be back here in nova, and as horrendous as this year has been (seriously, July 2006-April 2007 or so was probably the worst 9 months of my life, except for maybe when I first moved to Boston in 1995), I have moved on from the person I was in Cincinnati and am growing, hopefully into an even better version of the parts of myself I like. I've never doubted that leaving Cincinnati was the right thing to do, but coming back sort of showed me that even when I was having hard times here, I was changing for the better. I think.

3). As part of the feeding extravaganza that comes from vacations and throwing your food/exercise rhythms out of whack, when I entered the school and was walking to the main office, I spotted an irresistible item in the vending machines. I'm talking about the Hostess pudding pie, my friends. This was something I had pretty much every day in high school. Sure it's disgustingly bad for you, but it's AWESOME. Of course I had to buy one, and even when I did the calculations and discovered it was 13 points (as reference, on WW I'm supposed to eat around 20-22 right now...so that's a lot for ONE thing!), I said screw it and stuffed myself full of it. It was fun to return to an old memory, but less emotionally gratifying than the Cincinnati visit, I think. I don't need to have another one any time soon.

2007-05-15T08:46:00.000-04:00

Download This

I've had the Smiths Louder Than Bombs album since my junior year in high school...first on tape, then on CD. And yet, somehow last night was the first time I ever really HEARD song #24, Asleep. Song, where have you been my whole life? It came on as I was approaching my apartment complex at 10:30 at night (after I'd fallen asleep TWICE watching Heroes with Chrisshawn! I'd be more embarrassed if Shawn hadn't fallen asleep as well) and there was just something about the quiet piano, the dark neighborhood, and the glowing blue of my dashboard that made it seem like I was living a poem. That simultaneously sounds incredibly dorky and exactly is the only way I know how to say it. I then listened to it in en route to the gym this morning (at 5:45 a.m., a time when usually I don't want to hear any noise except MAYBE the BBC World News NPR runs at that hour) and then on the way home again afterwards...and now it's running through my head as I'm typing this. Sure, when you look at the lyrics you see it's kind of a song about suicide, but that's not the point. The point is that it's the most incredibly beautiful song and the one I've had the strongest reaction to since I discovered (okay, with Bill's Evil Twin's help) Neko Case/New Pornographers this summer.

I love it when that happens.

2007-05-08T13:18:00.000-04:00

So I ran a half-marathon. Now what?

The title really says it all. I ran a 5K on Saturday, nearly threw up afterwards (that's what happens when you don't drink enough water ahead of time and run it WAY too fast in the interests of making the 30 minute goal time you've set for yourself...which I did, but AT WHAT COST?), and spent the rest of the day feeling like ass. Fortunately, rather than get discouraged and think I was doomed for Sunday, I chose to take it as a learning lesson and did the exact opposite the next morning: I drank almost two bottles of water before the race, ate a muffin AND a balance bar, and stopped at every water station along the way.

And you know what? It was fine. I had some stomach cramps at mile 2 or so, but my awesome sister helped me slow my pace (which I am notoriously bad at...see 5K results from previous day, which I ran alone) until they took care of themselves. It was a cool day and once I warmed up, I tied my fleecey thing around my waist and was just fine in my short sleeved Tim Gunn-inspired MAKE IT WORK shirt and track pants. I never felt out of breath, I never had to stop running, I never felt like I couldn't do it...and at the end while I was happy it was over, I didn't fall to the ground immediately, cramp up, or even think about doing anything close to barfing.

This is, bar none, the thing I am most proud of in my whole life. I have this annoying tendency to always qualify achievements. Anything anybody finds remotely impressive, I always downplay. "Yeah, I got a master's degree from Columbia...but it was just two classes at a time and everybody can get into their master's program." (I do still think that, and it's not just Melinda Doolittle-esque modesty trying to get people to tell me I'm wrong.) "Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow, I'm doing a half-marathon. But don't get too impressed, I'm sure I won't finish!" (And yes, I DID email that to more than one person, again in all seriousness.) But there's no way I can tear down the fact I ran 13 freaking miles, try as I might. It's an incredibly unfamiliar, yet totally awesome feeling. I can't stop smiling. And staring at the shiny, shiny medal still sitting on my kitchen counter.

2007-04-23T16:31:00.000-04:00

One left a sweater sitting on the train...the other lost three fingers at the cannery

I don't have a huge amount of coherence (or even funniness) to post, but since I no longer feel like shite about the whole racist sleazball debacle...I wanted to post SOMETHING so that it's not the first thing that pops up on my page. Or something like that.

So, Miss Alli is awesome because first she cheered me up about the whole thing and then she wrote me the funniest email ever after the fact that I am simultaneously still laughing about and in awe of for multiple reasons that are too long to go into. Anyway, the point is, the guy's an ass, and while I no longer thing I did something "wrong," the lesson I'm taking away from the whole thing is...stop screening for whether or not the person likes ME (with whether or not I like him secondary...because in each of these bad news cases I did, but could also see why it would be a mistake to get involved) and start screening for whether or not *I* like the person. Believe it or not, despite these horror stories I've had happen since I moved back, in a weird way my self-esteem has been boosted just because I've learned that people liking me is not going to be a few and far between thing that I need to hold on to at all costs. And with that in mind, surely I can move on to more mundane "it didn't work out" stories, no?

Besides, I don't want to sound like "At least I have my health!" but...the stuff I have been angsting about these months? Small potatoes in the greater scheme of things. I get het up about the job and my performance and whether or not I'm succeeding...I get anxious about boy stuff and adjustment stuff and all that...but at the same time as these things are going on, every single person in my life has something a lot more life-changing going on. Two of the people I love most in the world are having major health things right now. Two others are about to have major career changes. One has perpetual money issues and ongoing arguments with a significant other about planning for the future. And yes, of course my issues seem big to ME at the time, but...it could be a lot worse. Hey, even back in September, it WAS a lot worse. So yes, progress and all that.

And of course, VA Tech. There's not a whole lot to say that's any different from what anybody else said, particularly since it's not like I KNEW anybody there. And yet I find myself bursting into tears over it, like when we had to have a moment of silence at a work-related dinner the other night. I don't understand 100% what that's about...but there it is. It happened, it sucks, I feel horrible for all who have to deal with it. Yes, even the killer's family. What a mess.

2007-04-19T12:49:00.000-04:00

It's not Me, but...It's Totally Me

What do you do when you realize you have the worst taste ever? I finally started to notice this trend wherein I keep being attracted to people who are bad for me...who make me feel insecure and off-balance and unsure of myself, while simultaneously having some kind of quality that draws me to them. Whether it's that they SEEM super-kind and understanding (though eventually prove they're not), or the artistic bent I like, or whatever...I keep getting blinded by the true dick qualities until it's too late. And on the plus side, I can see it's a problem. But on the minus side...I don't know how to fix it.

Take the latest drama, most of which can make me laugh, except for one small part.

1). The guy was cute, and had qualities I really liked about him (being close to his family one of them), and had a side interest in psychology/counseling/social work despite being in the boringest profession ever (sales). So we went out on a date and all was well. Some kissing may have occurred but nothing I wouldn't want to tell my mom happened (heh).

2). Second date...not so much a date as sitting on my couch while he metaphorically sobs over the women who have screwed him over and how he hasn't been able to do anything with anybody since without being drunk. RED FLAGS!

3). And yet...because I want to think of myself as a Good Person, a Caring Person...I send an email a few days later saying "Hey, you seem like you're not ready for anything right now, if you want to just hang out in a friendly way, that's cool."

4). And of course...I get an email in response basically dumping me and saying why he would never fall for me. Which, okay, I had the RED FLAGS! thing going, so it's not like I was in love, but...my feelings still were hurt. Mostly just because I'd seen RED FLAGS! and ignored them to try to be nice, so it was more annoyance over my own stupidity.

The Aftermath:

1). A new ad gets posted by him with the specification that "no offense ethnic mixes...but this guy needs a white girl." Needless to say, that was NOT something mentioned in the ad *I* responded to. (His picture was attached in both ad #1 and #2, which is how I know it's him...)

2). The next ad he posts that he's looking for someone under a size 4, and that the so-called bbw (big beautiful women) attraction guys post about is a vast conspiracy by bbw's to make themselves feel better. Again, I'm not a size 4, and again, that's NOT something he posted in the ad *I* responded to...

Now those things are kind of horrifying and inadvertantly humorous, like in a WHOA, I dodged a bullet! I accidentally dated a white supremacist! kind of way. Until the next aftermath point:

3). The next ad posted that details everything that happened between us (minus my name), which included characteristics about my body (uh...I'm not one who can go without a bra, basically), things that happened between us physically, a summation of the content of some flirtatious emails that were sent, and how ultimately since I was a big easy slut he couldn't go through with it and weren't there any NICE girls (yes, he said girls) on this website? Even the city this poster lives in was his...the only difference was the age was changed. Now what are the odds that this happened to two people from the same city, right? So it's totally me.

And basically what it boils down to is that some racist sleazeball who has issues with women being "good" or "bad" just because they fool around/don't fool around on a first date (again, remember, nothing I wouldn't want my mom to know happened....) has made me feel really crappy about myself. And somehow that seems really, really wrong.

2007-04-07T13:12:00.000-04:00

The obligatory American Idol post

Every year my interest in AI gets lower and lower. The first year I came in the middle of the top 10 (I missed Jim Verraros, gay boy with deaf parents, and creepy Ejay, long lost member of the Jackson 5) and loved Kelly Clarkson. And okay, probably voted for her a bunch too. The second year I wasn't strongly for anybody once Trenyce (I know, I know...TRENYCE?) got eliminated, the third year I liked Fantasia...after that it gets blurry. Except for my shameful, horrifying, unholy love for Constantine, whatever year he was. After he got eliminated I stopped watching.

Anyway, I tried to get out last year but it's just too much of a spinning hurricane. I mean, when you work with teenagers...it's a great opening. Since I can't bear to sit through the six weeks of endless bad auditions, I come in when it's time to start voting. And hoo boy, is this year a total nightmare or what? Seriously, I can't stand any of them. Even the supposed front runners, LaKisha and Melinda "no neck," irritate the piss out of me. I myself like Jordin the best, but really it's sort of a lukewarm kind of interest. I certainly won't be crying if she's eliminated.

Thank god for Sanjaya, I say. He makes the season worth watching, one because he's so bad it's hilarious, two because the judges clearly have no idea what to do with him, three because he's so full of himself for so little a reason, and four for all the great articles decrying how low American Idol has sunk now that he's popular. People, COME ON. It's AMERICAN IDOL. It's always been shite!

That said, as previously posted, I was in NYC this past weekend and went to the Met. And no trip to a museum is complete without a stop in the gift shop, even if they DON'T sell floaty pens. While we were there, Gill found a picture in one of the Egypt books of an ancient mummy? Or something? And all he could say was, "Look, it's Melinda!" And it so was. And I absolutely had to take a picture of the page with my camera. And every time I open it up on my desktop? I laugh a little more. Oh, Melinda no neck with your faux-humble surprised expressions. I just want to slap you silly. The only thing that would make my amusement more complete is if you were eliminated over Sanjaya. Now THAT would be some good times.

2007-04-05T06:50:00.000-04:00

Why Does Everybody Hate Me?

Is it something I say? Is it my appearance? My sense of humor? My breath? Cause seriously, I'm starting to feel more than a little bit abandoned these days. It doesn't help when even the people you are PAYING to be in your life start dissing you...like your (non-Hollywood, non-glamorous) trainer. He didn't show up last week, and after I paranoiacally confirmed it WAS Thursday and it WAS 6 a.m., left him a note asking him to call me. No call. Today? No sign of him. What is the deal? You know you're screwed when even $65/hour can't confirm someone will remain in your life.

2007-04-04T20:16:00.000-04:00

I heart NY, Part 2

Fancy spa pedicures, massages, the Met, walking all over, eating yummy Chinese food, your pal Gill making you awesome meals, getting away from your job, having your first decent run since you pulled a muscle almost six weeks ago...that's right bitches, it's spring break. And unfortunately I have since realized that I need to take a WEEK off next year, because I did NOT want to come back today but had to. So you know what? I'm 99% sure I'm taking tomorrow and Friday off. I think I'm getting sick. Cough, cough, cough.

2007-03-28T17:51:00.000-04:00

More randomosity

The reeking car has gotten a bit better. My friend Josh Slocum (not THE Josh Slocum, settle down) has informed me that when animals die in your car, if they're squirrel-sized or smaller they will decompose in about 3 weeks, and if after 3 weeks you can still smell them...it's probably larger than a squirrel. Obviously I hope it's not a dead animal, but honestly, what else could it be. It's weird.

In other updates, my leg is...okay. Some days it still hurts, some days I'm fine. And wearing heels is still sort of leg-unfriendly, and running the 8K race a few weekends ago was not the best feeling in the world. Le sigh. I just want it to be better so I can do the half-marathon in a little over a month!

Finally, in the nothing ventured, nothing gained department, a completely hot guy who used to be a former model (so he says...and I believe it, he's pretty hot) posted an ad online. Well, I remembered him from previous ads but figured, former model? Yeah ha. But then I figured, well, if he turns me down, it's hardly going to be unexpected. So I wrote him a sparkling message about how I initially was disturbed by his modelosity but figured maybe he had popular girl syndrome ("Everybody assumes she's unattainable, so she's the loneliest of them all!"), and hey, even former male models have to date and the pool of female models is rather low, particularly in the nova area, so....hey, why not. Imagine my shock when he responded positively even AFTER the obligatory "send my picture and wait to never hear back again" period. Who with the what?

Don't think I'm posting like, look at me, an incredibly hot guy responded to my message. It's more like, what is WRONG with this incredibly hot guy that hasn't shown up yet? It's coming, I'm sure.

Also. Springtime. Who DOESN'T love it? Short skirts and open-toed shoes, breezes in the air, fans on at night. And me, heading off to NYC this Friday to see Gill. Could life be any more exciting?

2007-03-22T07:21:00.000-04:00

The rotting corpse of the squirrel in my car

Okay, I know that's nasty. But so's your mom. Just kidding! More seriously, this is embarrassing, but my car REEKS, man. I can't figure out why, because it's not like I've left behind any food (the things I eat in my car: candy, breakfast muffin, water. And I throw away the wrappers from the first two when I arrive at my destination), and as far as I know, no animals have crawled into my car....it's so gross. I don't want anybody to ride in my car, like, ever. Ugh.

What could it be? I'm flummoxed.

In other news, this season of Survivor just might contain the most misogynist group of assholes I've ever had the misfortune to see on the show, and I've suffered through some hard times with Mark Burnett Productions. I think I mentioned earlier something about Cute Anthony and how I liked him...well, then he started to grate, but that was because I didn't realize the editors were hiding his wicked sense of humor. Now I'm back firmly into the "cute, smart, and fun" arena. Anthony, call me!

On the plus side, the reshuffling of the tribes last night means that all the assholes are conveniently grouped in one bunch and the semi-decent people are grouped with the okay to middling people in another. Mookie and Alex are bad enough on their own, but Rocky? ROCKY? Sweet jesus what a fricking bully. I...I cannot continue.

My rage is rising and I cannot continue. I must go now and prepare to drive to work in my smelly, smelly car. Le sigh.

2007-03-19T19:53:00.000-04:00

Down is Up, Up is Down, It's Warm, It's Cold, What's Going On?

This has quite possibly been the craziest week EVER. Well, for me, at any rate. Every time I'm like, "Oh, I should post something," the story gets a little more random.

The short version of my life right now is that it was briefly warm and glorious and we were all busting out the short skirts and strappy sandals and life was happy. Then it got cold and crappy again and culminated in iciness, which was just no fun at all. Boooo.

Also, boys are weird. First I went out with one who decided he just wanted to be friends. Then I went out with another one twice in three days who I liked a lot. Then the first boy came back and said, okay, I changed my mind, let's go out tonight. Only to email me again today (after going out on Friday) and say, oops, changed my mind again. The hell?

I'm not devastated, but there is an element of feeling like the rug was pulled out from under me. First the weather (I shouldn't be returning to long underwear after a few days of open-toed shoes!), now this. Everything is topsy-turvy.

On the plus side,it's now lighter a lot later. Which is nice. And hopefully a sign that the happy things of last week will be coming back sometime soon, and the bad things (weather and flakes, of the male persuasion that is) are just temporary dips backwards.

2007-03-09T19:32:00.000-05:00

Movie review: Zodiac

Robert Downey Jr: Fucking awesome (but fucking old, man! That's what years and years of hard drug use will do to you!)

Jake Gyllenhaal: As fucking annoying as ever

The actual movie: Fucking long. My goodness. 2 hours and 40 minutes? That's too long.

But, pretty good. Just long. More RDJ and less JG, please.

2007-03-08T18:03:00.000-05:00

It's like Medium, only with Jeff Goldblum, and "funny!"

From nbc.com, about Raines:
Eccentric LAPD Detective Michael Raines (Goldblum) uses his unique imagination to focus on every murder case in such a way that the murder victims actually begin to take shape in front of him. At first, he thinks he's losing his mind, but he then uses the constantly evolving hallucinations -- which are figments of his imagination and not ghosts -- to help him discover the victims' killers. Raines struggles to accept this peculiar gift -- or burden -- and reconcile it with his daily life.

What do you do when the previews look assy but you have a shameful, unholy love for Jeff Goldblum that has burned within you since Jurassic Park? Le sigh.

2007-03-08T17:25:00.000-05:00

Next Singer: 2nd Platoon

When it's your sister's, and Colon's, and some person you've never met, threeway birthday party at a karaoke bar in Old Town, what is one closet "I'm shy but I secretly LOVE to perform despite my near tone-deaf status" 30-something to do? Why, bust out the Eminem, of course. So WON'T the real Slim Shady please stand up?

Okay, I have to back up a bit. I was psyched beyond belief to get the evite for this magical night and was actually the first person to RSVP yes, even before Joey F, husband to one of the birthday organizers (aka my brother-in-law). I was THERE, smoky bar and bad singing status (why yes, I DID fail basic aural skills the first time around due in part to my inability to sight sing, why do you ask?) be damned. As the night approached, my excitement grew. There was the most delicious bakery birthday cake in all the land to be consumed. There were friends and strangers. There was easy parking not far from the bar (a Very Good Thing, given the fact the day started at 60 and plummeted to 30 or so by the time we went). And yes, there were 23 people performing before my sister was up, and then I was immediately following. But who cared, right? Because it was KARAOKE.

My nervousness grew after the first guy approached. This guy looked like Rock It Grill had called Central Casting and asked to Send Them a Marine. Seriously, shaved head, rigid posture, t-shirt tucked into stiff, ironed jeans...and then all of a sudden out of this solemn man comes the purest, bestest Axl Rose falsetto you've ever heard in your life singing the crap out of "Sweet Child o'Mine." Okay, I am FUCKED. Since when did karaoke night become "I'm too old for American Idol" night? Fortunately a few rounds later three women actively sucked at Ice Ice Baby and I knew I wouldn't be the worst person of the night, making me much more able to enjoy the rest of the performances before mine came along.

Some highlights:

* The 2nd Platoon, a group of people who were MAYBE two years old when Top Gun came out, coming up in a group to sing You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling (a song I HATE, but that's neither here nor there), drunkenly proclaiming their love for their fellow platoon buddies, telling us all they'd be shipping out to Iraq next week.....it's sad and kinda depressing, but then more than slightly comical when you realize all they know of military right now is how Top Gun told them to act in this scenario.

* The trashiest Reba McEntire song EVER, called Fancy, about a trailer trash mom who teaches her daughter Fancy to whore herself out to the highest bidder to climb out of the trailer park. I'm not even making that up. "momma, what do I do? she said, 'just be nice to the gentlemen, fancy, they'll be nice to you.'" Uh, thanks, Momma! Those lyrics were way more disturbing than the f-word that was bleeped out of MY song approximately 7 times.

* Don't Stop Believing....now this was classic karaoke in all its glory. The bug-eyed woman with frizzy hair melodramatically singing the crap out of the song, the whole bar singing along...nothing but smile-times.

Then a bunch of people didn't show, and suddenly Mrs. P was singing...um, You're My Best Friend? That Queen song, and I was Next. No worries (okay, a few tons of them). I knew I had the first verse down, but the others were questionable. But I went up there, I did it, I loved it, and yes I could barely hear myself, and yes I ran out of breath a few times, but I was definitely better than the Ice Ice Baby women. Who also sucked at Baby Got Back and Let's Get It On, I should add.

The only sucky part of the night? Nobody else went. What's up with that, lameo birthday people?

2007-02-28T21:46:00.000-05:00

Erase Cincinnati Boy? Yes

So today was the longest day EVER what with starting at 8 a.m. (30 minutes earlier than my appointed start date, people! I am SO DEDICATED) at my high school, going pretty much nonstop and NOT EVEN EMAILING FOR FUN in that time, running to college to pick up materials for a thing I had to go to tonight, frantically doing 12 things at once that all need to be done by Friday (create my class's final exam, create my next lesson plan, create and do a mailing...), going off to the aforementioned evening meeting and a) driving, b) eating my dinner, and c) talking on my cell phone...I am SO GOOD at multi-tasking. Anyway, I got to take a minute to slow down by sitting through the endless parent meeting that was full of blah dee blah dee oh my GOD I am going to fall asleep from the endless babbling of these pointless people. How the panel (which included my boss--I was just observing in the audience) stayed conscious was beyond me. My method was to text 3 different people and hope someone would respond (none did), then wade through my cell phone contacts and determine if they should be kept or not. Friend from my internship in NYC (2003-2004) I haven't spoken to in...oh gosh, 2 years? Keep. Former student from Cincinnati I haven't spoken to since this summer? Keep.

With that laissez-faire attitude, well, who DIDN'T make the cut, you ask? Cincinnati Boy. I haven't talked to him since...oh gosh, October or so, 100% because of my decision to stop responding to emails and texts. I partially feel guilty for cutting him off so rudely, but not so guilty I feel inclined to ever communicate again, even just to say "I don't want to communicate with you anymore." Before now, erasing him from the phone felt weird and like putting a final nail in the coffin and I'd resisted doing it before now. But tonight, for whatever reason, I hit the erase and watched his name fly into the virtual trash can. How do I feel? A whole bunch of nothing about it. It's weird, but I feel more bitter and have more mixed feelings about the debacle from the boy who broke my heart back in September than the boy I moved to another state for and spent almost five years of my life with. I don't know what that means, but for whatever reason, the past with the Cincinnati Boy is ready to be in the past.

Continuing the theme of ghosts revisited, when I arrived at my destination tonight (one of my high schools for a junior parent meeting about college), I found myself transfixed by one of the panel members who looked, I shit you not, like a female to male transgendered person. Seriously, this person looked even less like a male (short, slight build, weird feminine features) than Max on the L Word, who supposedly is so convincing his boss set him up with his daughter. So I look at the name to see if "Pat" is a man or a woman, and it's the name of someone I went to high school with. I do the approach. "Are you the "Pat" who went to 'High School Name Here?'" "Yes, I am." "I'm Mrs. Pinchloaf's sister!" since I knew Mrs. P was better friends with him than I, since he was two years younger than I...okay, so he remembered her, and even claimed to remember me when I said my name (which is unsurprising, since I was in his sister's graduating class and we were both on the same track of classes in school). We talked for a few minutes before I went to sit down, and guess what? Still the annoying douche I remember from high school. He redeemed himself slightly in his presentation, since he's the only one of the SIX panelists who didn't make me want to gouge my eyes out...but one-on-one? Still a suck.

There is no point to that story, except maybe to say ruefully that as much as I would like to think I have changed and grown since high school, maybe people who encounter me leave thinking "Yep, still a loser/dumbass/bitch/whatever." Who knows.

2007-02-22T22:03:00.000-05:00

Teen to English: The Official Translation

So all the naysayers who said my Creative Writing degree would be for naught--ha HA! That Translation Workshop came in mighty handy when providing the annotated version of yesterday's entry. By popular demand, an interpretation of What The Kids Are Saying:

Original Dialogue: is dat 1 boi dat go here Glen related 2 u?
The Translation: That fine gentleman, Glen, perchance might he be a relation of yours?

Original Dialogue: NOT Even I herd he try-n 2 fight my brother is he n our lunch?
The Translation: No familial ties bind us. Regrettably, there is talk of combat between my brother and him. Does he dine at the same hour as we?

Original Dialogue: 2 me n my cuz man i ont no dat n-word
The Translation: His midday meal is during the 2nd hour. My relation and I do not know that foul-mouthed troublemaker.

Original Dialogue: It sounds 2 me like Glen started everything
The Translation: If what is said is accurate, the instigator of this conflict is Glen

Original Dialogue: Ill talk 2 u bout dat after class cuz its 2 much--so eah wats goody with u n Jennifer.
The Translation: We will discuss the details further at a later time, for now the emotions are too great. What ho, friend, can you discuss your interest in the maiden Jennifer?

Original Dialogue: Me aint shit just boking 50 Mr. right yeah no but dont got my eye on no one for da moment so yeah who u gotyo eyes on not 2 b n yo diz just a question
The Translation: A serious engagement, it is not. My prospects and interests, they are few. And you, my friend? I inquire out of concern for your well-being and general happiness, but recognize you might feel such matters of the heart are private affairs.

Original Dialogue: yeah I no n no 1 look right
The Translation: Regrettably, while I appreciate your discretion, no one catches my eye as of late.

Original Diagloue: sik U Ugly (LOL) just playin I used 2 like yo old light bright ass when I was I think 9 or 10th grade
The Translation: An amusing comment: you are physically unappealing. (A careless laugh ensues!) I am merely existing to amuse. Perhaps you do not know, when I was younger and more foolish my heart belonged to you.

Original Dialogue: LOL so yeah no u noe I did
The Translation: I too laugh carelessly. I am aware of your previous emotions.

Original Dialogue: say wat dats Jessicas boo y he said something
The Translation: The young man who has spent time with Jessica, for what reason did he make comments to you?

Original Dialogue: no im sayn though my gurl tryn 2 get wit him.
The Translation: You misunderstand me. An acquaintance of mine, whom I know through a fair maiden, is attempting to develop a romantic connection with Jessica's beau.

Original Dialogue: I aint talk 2 dem n a min cuz of work o I herd u like Johanna
The Translation: Such news I had not heard, for my labors have prevented me from speaking with them. My friend, a rumor has reached me that the comely Johanna has caught your eye?

Original Dialogue: ot o let me find out if yall do
The Translation: I respectfully request the opportunity to investigate such matters further.

Yes, it really does skip around that much without many connections from one thought to the next. MTV, my friend, it's singlehandedly causing ADHD to sweep the nation.

2007-02-21T15:20:00.000-05:00

The Generation That Will Help Me Age Gracefully

Since I most likely, barring some unforseen circumstances like falling madly, totally, 100% gobsmackingly in love with someone who cannot live without a child and me deciding that despite a lifetime of being mildly to outright Freaked Out about the idea of childbirth, I'd rather be a mom with a gobsmackingly awesome partner than without him, be a child-free elderly person, I am in the delicate position of having to rely on kind strangers to care for me when I become incapacitated. And for the most part I am down with that. Hey, it's the sacrifice you make when you give up furthering the species, you know?

However, my sanguine attitude about this prospect took a serious nosedive after I found a student's planner in the career center of today's school. Transcribed verbatim are the notes I found. Before I share with you these pearls of wisdom, I need to state three things:

1). I did not bother to [sic] spelling and grammatical errors, because the whole thing would be one long [sic]

2). The student did not write "the n-word;" that's my censoring. Student used the version of the n-word that ends in a. The slang version, if you will.

3). I stopped transcribing when it became a debate about whether or not one student "had some fried rice" in her because she "looked Chinese." They weren't being malicious, but...it was weird.

Anyway, without further ado, I present the conversation:

* is dat 1 boi dat go here Glen related 2 u?
* NOT Even I herd he try-n 2 fight my brother is he n our lunch?
* 2 me n my cuz man i ont no dat n-word
* It sounds 2 me like Glen started everything
* Ill talk 2 u bout dat after class cuz its 2 much--so yeah wats goody with u n Jennifer.
* Me aint shit just boking 50 Mr. right yeah no but dont got my eye on no one for da moment so yeah who u gotyo eyes on not 2 b n yo diz just a question
* yeah I no n no 1 look right
* sik U Ugly (LOL) just playin I used 2 like yo old light bright ass when I was I think 9 or 10th grade
* LOL so yeah no u noe I did
* say wat dats Jessicas boo y he said something
* no im sayn though my gurl tryn 2 get wit him.
* I aint talk 2 dem n a min cuz of work o I herd u like Johanna
* ot o let me find out if yall do

I'm not sure which is worse...the grammar, spelling, etc., or the fact I pretty much understood all of it. That really is how students talk, yo. My only hope is that my sister's children will not mind caring for their elderly aunt, and I fully intend to attempt to buy their love through gifts their parents won't buy them, and keeping the secrets they don't want to tell aforementioned parents, etc. Because I have to think Celery, Trixie, and I forgot the other planned name will be more literate than those two.

2007-02-19T14:44:00.000-05:00

Bring Out the Gimp

Because I am the Queen of Rationalization, I talked myself out of going to the gym on Friday night because hey, it was the end of a work week (nevermind the fact it was the easiest work week EVER since I got out at noon on Tuesday, had Wednesday totally off, and went into the college on Thursday and Friday to do nothing but surf the web and IM rather than going to my high schools since public schools were still closed) and who wants to spend 2 hours at a gym on Friday night? Not me. So as I stuffed myself full of cadbury cream eggs and other assorted junk I promised myself I would do a step aerobics class, a weightlifting one, and then a kickboxing one on Saturday to make up for my slackerdom that day. Start time for this adventurousness? 7:30 a.m. Hey, since I was home at 5, I could certainly get to bed at a decent hour and make the 10-minute drive the next morning just fine...

...Which I did. And I was still planning to do all of those things until about 10 minutes into the first class, when I felt something in my calf stretch and then snap. I then proceeded to spend the rest of the hour sitting on my step clutching an ice pack to my leg and trying to blink back tears of panic that, if I had to put into words, were basically something like: "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod I am SO fucked I'm going to be incapaciatated forever and it's never going to heal and I'll never run again nevermind the half-marathon and I'm going to gain a ton of weight and ohmygod ohmygodohmygod"...

Yeah, it wasn't pretty. Especially when I then had to call my parents to come rescue me since it was my left leg, and I drive a stick shift, and no freaking way was I going to make it back considering I couldn't even have my leg touch the ground, much less put any weight on it. So they came and got me, and my dad drove my car while I stretched out in the backseat, and they gave me crutches, and I iced and elevated and in despair stuffed my face with more candy. Because when you know you're not going to be running for awhile? Eating candy is a good thing to do.

On the happy side, my initial panic and freakout seem to have been largely (surprise!) an overreaction, because while I am still not 100% recovered, I am certainly more mobile than I was two days ago. Yesterday I dragged out some of the old tapes I used to do and did 20 minutes of arm exercises and then some pilates. Today I even drove my car! I went to the gym and did something that was basically a combination of tai chi, yoga, and pilates, and while I thought I was going to faint from boredom by the end of the hour, it felt good to be moving a little bit. So the plan now is to keep trying to do stuff that does not involve using my leg at all (arms, yoga, pilates), and then when I can get back to putting 100% weight on my leg (right now it's about 40%), start SLOWLY working my way back up the running thing by walking on the treadmill for a bit, and if that seems okay running maybe for a mile, doing a couple of days of only running 30 minutes or so, etc. And I'll try to both cut back on the stress eating and not sweat any incidental gain in the meantime, because as long as I allow myself enough time to recover, it will fall back off as soon as I'm back to my usual routines. I hope so, at any rate. The aerobics instructor and my sister and my parents have all assured me that it is early enough that this will not be a permanent setback to my half-marathon attempts, but of course I am still a teeny bit panicked and anxious about it. But I have to tell myself NOT to push myself because that will only make the setback longer than it has to be...or something like that.

Since I haven't been able to do anything but ice and elevate, I have watched more television than I did in all of January 2007. At 26% full, compared to its previous 80+%, the tivo is almost empty. A partial list of some of the things I have cleaned off are:

Lincoln Heights, some show on ABC Family (shut up!) that actually is half-decent. About a black family who moves into the 'hood (their words, not mine) because of the affordable housing and all the adjustments that come with that.

Countless episodes of MASH, because they're in the best season--the first one with BJ and Potter. Why do I say it's the best season? Because two of my top 5 favorite episodes aired last week (BJ arrives in Korea, the army mistakenly lists Hawkeye as dead). I prefer Winchester to Frank, but BJ to Trapper, and he's just so damn sweet and funny I wish he weren't married to Peg with a new baby, but real and someone I could actually meet in real life.

The most recent episode of Heroes, which, while I go back and forth on in terms of interest level was really really good this week, I think because they featured the characters I like the most (Greg the psychic cop, the cheerleader, Sylar) and minimized the ones I hate the most (stupid Peter who can only copy others' abilities and whose main acting tic is to push back hair that is too short to ever actually fall in his eyes, Adrian Pasdar whom I loved in Profit but find boring here, and that annoying twat Mohinder).

The new episode of Degrassi, which sucked, because they seem to have decided to regress into the 1950s and introduce a completely ridiculous storyline about a rivalry between two high schools. The fuck?

Amazing Race All-Stars, which, screw you CBS and starting it late because it cut off 30 minutes in meaning I had to try to track it online and realized belatedly after typing cbs.com/amazingrace that even if it were available to see there they'd have who was eliminated on the front page, which they did, and even though I averted my eyes and quickly fled I still had enough of a view to know who it was when there were still about 20 minutes left. (I did eventually get it elsewhere, fret not! But it was less riveting once you knew who lost, as is always the case with such things.)

Three episodes of the Office I'd already seen but had saved because the Office is awesome.

Ditto 30 Rock which better come out on DVD because I love love LOVE that show. And this is from someone who decidedly did NOT love love love Tina Fey before now.

Law & Order: SVU which I don't usually watch but taped this time because it featured hot Cary Elwes, who, tragically, in the 20 years since Princess Bride has now become somewhat swelled up Cary Elwes, which would be okay except his face wasn't so hot anymore either. Alas.

Survivor: Fiji which is really Survivor: Dullsville, but as long as cute Anthony is on, I guess I'll be there. FOR NOW, at any rate.

Still left to watch: one more 30 Rock, a Janis Joplin documentary (that I taped IN AUGUST), Catch Me If You Can, a Jim Jones documentary, another L&O: SVU, another Lincoln Heights. Shockingly, I have not yet felt the need to claw my eyes out from boredom and being sick of sitting in front of the television. I am, however, happy I am mobile enough to get back to work tomorrow because I think a fourth day would most likely kill me.

2007-02-15T12:23:00.000-05:00

A Commercial I HATE. HAAAAAAAAATE.

Random kid calls home and asks mom for permission to eat dinner at friend's house. Mom is like, "Dinner? With the parents? Dinner? The parents will be there? That is crazy talk. Let me talk to friend's mom." Kid passes phone to Friend's Mom and says, "She doesn't believe me." Friend's Mom: "Yep, we're all having dinner together!" Beatific smile as she puts the phone down and sits down at the table...FOR HER FAMILY DINNER OF KFC.

Point the First: KFC is nasty. Even when I would eat fast food with joy and happiness, if I were going to eat fried chicken, it would NOT have been KFC. Popeye's, baby, popeye's!

Point the Second: Ordering a giant bucket of KFC is NOT the same thing as a home-cooked family meal. So cut out all the impressed looks, self-satisfied smiles, and pats on the back. Because really, by those definitions, I have a family meal every night (turkey burgers, frozen pizzas, chicken tacos with chips and salsa....no. I ain't gonna kid myself, that's not cooking).

Point the Third: Is it REALLY that hard to have a family dinner? I mean, we all ate dinner together EVERY NIGHT when I was growing up. Except band rehearsal night. But seriously, is it really that rare?

2007-02-15T11:41:00.000-05:00

Random bits of commentary on random things

1). This Anna Nicole stuff is OFF THE HOOK. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up. Who is NOT saying he's the babydaddy at this point? What is up with the fact when I was at the gym Fox News kept breathlessly saying "Less than 30 minutes until the hearing over Anna Nicole's body! Less than 20 minutes!" lather, rinse, repeat as the countdown continued? Occasionally they'd say "Less than 10 minutes until W's conference about the conflict in Iraq," but it was like, "Oh yeah, since the word "news" is in our name, we probably should mention this conference." Don't lie to me, Fox News, you care more about Anna Nicole than you do about The War!

(Please note: this commentary is not intended to condone the positions Fox News often takes. It's just that's what the big TV in front of me was cued to, and I have no option to change it. So I watched the crawl while listening to music while running.)

2). How I Met Your Mother knows its shit, yo. Monday night's episode featured Doogie Howser, hetero stud (ha! ha!) running the marathon, then found him unable to get off the subway because his legs stopped working. Oh, how I can relate. After yesterday's inspirational nearly 7.5-mile run, I stretched, ate a banana, took a shower (in other words, did all the right things to prevent a similar thing happening), and then spent a good two hours in front of the computer doing this and that. When I stood up? I nearly fell over as my legs gave out on me. So just imagine after 13 miles how it's gonna be...hoo boy.

Relatedly, I got the first season of Doogie Howser, M.D. from Netflix, because I am not embarrassed to tell you I watched the show throughout its run back in my later years of high school (in fact, I also remember my trigonometry teacher telling us one day he wasn't going to be grading our quizzes that night "because Doogie Howser was on," but no matter). Uh yeah, it sucks and blows. Could only make it through one episode and 10 minutes of the next before turning it off yesterday. Another cherished show from my youth bites the dust...the only ones that have truly held up for me are Family Ties and Different World. Argh.

3). I don't know when I turned into my grandmother...okay, I do, it's when I started doing needlepoint on a semi-regular basis and for Christmas 2003 or so gave my sister some embroidered pillowcases and Cincinnati Boy's mom a needlepoint pillow that took me approximately 4 months to complete. But if wasn't then, it was today, when my dad brought me the girl scout cookies they'd purchased for me. It's bad enough I requested TREFOILS (the shortbread ones), but then when I opened the box and ate one? Manna from heaven, gentle readers. Yes, they were my grandmother's favorites, but that doesn't mean they can't still be a hip and happening cookie....right?

On a similar note, I made the error of ordering a box from someone here at work, the "All Abouts." What are all abouts? Some sort of non-shortbread saltine-like cookie with a chocolate coated bottom. NOT recommended. Tasteless, I tell you, tasteless! Le sigh. I don't know what I was thinking except I actually have grown tired of the usual suspects (tagalongs, thin mints) and wanted to try something different...but I should have just gotten a second box of trefoils. Yuck.

4). It is icy and crappy here and first I couldn't get my car out from its little icy enclave until my Daddy came to rescue me, which kind of sucked. But what sucked even more was when I was innocently sitting at a traffic light en route to work and I got rear-ended by some idiot on her cell phone in a giant mini-van. I'm not sure how that happened because I'd THOUGHT we were both innocently already at a full stop and the light certainly hadn't changed yet...but I was not very happy. Nothing is wrong with my car (outwardly), but I am an unforgiving person and her lack of concern and remorse over what happened irritated me more than anything else in that whole drama. I think I jinxed myself because yesterday I was trying to think back to the last time I had a car accident, and I think it was when I was 19 and sailed into another car in the parking lot at King's Dominion (now PARAMOUNT's Kings Dominion, but no matter). At least it wasn't worse, I know.

2007-02-14T10:50:00.000-05:00

Plateaus (Plauteaux?)

So it has not escaped my attention that my posting frequency has, shall we say it delicately, gone down in flames. Pragmatically speaking, of course, one has a lot less to say when one is busy living life vs. thinking about someday living a life (as in, having a job vs. not). But also...I don't know. I go back and forth on what I'm feeling and thinking about everything and while my private, non-published diary writing frequency has increased (as in, I am keeping one and writing in it once a week or so for the first time since 1994)...I am often hesitant to write about what's on my mind online for a few reasons:

* One, whining is boring. Nobody wants to read a whiner!

* Two, the privacy factor. I am not a person who will express my feelings to any yahoo who comes down the pike, and writing about them online has an element of exhibitionism I'm not 100% comfortable with.

* Three, the humor factor. I like to be funny and random, and Really Deep Thoughts? Not so much.

That said, we had yet another snow day and this time both public schools AND my college closed down, meaning I had NOWHERE to go today. Whoohoo! I knew I had to run, because I hadn't since last Friday, and my half-marathon training has been...well, virtually non-existant. The problem with the treadmills at the gym is that they do not lend themselves to long stretches of training, choosing instead to make you go into cool-down mode after running for an hour, whether you like it or not. Yeah yeah yeah, I can just reset and keep going...but there's something very pavlovian about the whole process. The treadmill wants me to stop? Well then, by gum, it MUST be time to stop. So anyway, that factor combined with the fact it is snowy and icy and I am lazy made me trudge over to my apartment complex's "gym" (it of the two treadmills) and run there. And, quite shockingly, I managed to run 7.45 miles, the longest I have run in my whole life. That's RUN! Not warm-up, then run, then cool-down...the running part. So that was positive and affirming and optimism-rebuilding (not a word, but whatever).

But while I was running and before I had that inspirational moment I was thinking how so much of my life these days is in stasis. I have a job now and while I know there are enough downsides to it that I won't want it forever, it's a well-paying job in my field with enough about it that I DO like that it would not be tragic to have if I am unable to find a school counseling job for awhile. I no longer wake up every morning and want to burst into tears, or have a hard time contemplating getting out of bed and facing the day, but I am still shying away from venturing full force back out into the world of social activity (friendship, dating, whatever) and Trying New Things, out of fear of getting burned just as badly as I did last fall by heartbreak and generally making an ass of myself. Little steps forward, big steps back. And while I was on mile 3 or whatever, the word "plateau" leapt into my mind, and that's exactly what it is. I made it through the initial hard times of a move and worked my way up to about a 5 or a 6 on the Happiness Scale of Day to Day Living. But I don't want to be a 5 or a 6. I know one can't be a 10 on a regular basis, but isn't an 8 manageable? Isn't it possible to have occasional days of 10?

The awesome Colon wrote this awesome entry awhile back that I never commented to her about, just because it resonated with me on a really, perhaps embarrassingly so, personal level, but I still think about it a lot. I've never seen School of Rock and (sorry, Colon!) have never wanted to, mostly because with the exception of John Cusack's second most awesomest movie ever, High Fidelity, I find Jack Black kind of annoying. Small doses, people, small doses. Anyway, back on track, the idea of the worst coming true is something I think about all the time. But you have to be willing to risk that on a daily basis to achieve anything meaningful. And I feel like this year I've experienced the downside of risks that fail and taken them to heart way too much and haven't been able to move past them. They still seem real and accessible, and they can't. Not if you want to do anything that means anything, at least not for me.

So part of me gets annoyed with myself for not pushing through the anxieties, and part of me is trying to be patient with myself and see progress, however imperfect. No, my self-imposed regiment of training for the half-marathon (upping my distance 2-3 minutes every Sunday) has not worked...but hey, I made a big leap forward today. No, I'm not yet doing every social activity that looks remotely interesting yet...but I AM trying less hugely scary things. And when someone I barely know invited me to do something last night at the last-minute when it was snowy and crappy and it was going to involve interaction in a way that was pretty nerve-wracking, okay, I declined...but I actually got changed out of my pajamas and ALMOST went. And while ALMOST famously only counts in horseshoes, for me I have to be okay with the ALMOST and know that next time, I probably will go.

And that's a good thing....right?

2007-02-08T16:13:00.000-05:00

Howard K. Stern, (alleged) murderer

Everybody thought I was full of shite and a big dorky dork when I first posted back in October that I thought Howard K. Stern was responsible for Anna Nicole Smith's son's death (read the original post here, in the October archives). A snippet from that post:

I am completely serious when I say that at this point I really do believe HKS knocked off Daniel in the final effort to completely isolate her and make her completely dependent on him so that he can be a rich, rich man.

I also seem to recall a derisive comment or three when I then posted she had pneumonia (also in the October archives) and better watch out. A snippet from that post:

Seriously, I write like I'm joking, but I'm halfway not. I really do think he's going to kill her. Or at least bleed her dry via power of attorney status (which you KNOW he has now that he convinced her to marry him, if he somehow didn't manage to get it before).

And now I read she died earlier today and all I can think is, question Howard K. Stern, man. Seriously. Not even being funny. He (allegedly) did it.

2007-02-07T07:23:00.000-05:00

And it's not even 7:30

Public schools...closed! My college...won't open until 10! Could this day get any better?

2007-02-03T21:29:00.000-05:00

Working Harder, Not Smarter

Yes, it's a cliche but in my case it happens to be true. I finally made the marathon mix, put it in order, etc., and prepared to transfer it to my mp3 player. The problem? I did it in windows media player (yeah, yeah, yeah) and couldn't just send the file over to the player because it was a .wpl (playlist) file rather than a folder filled with individual .wmas and .mp3s. I couldn't think of any way to just right click and send it on over without burning it to a CD, then ripping the CD to windows media player, then renaming all the files because even though I did the burning in the same program I did the ripping, it would still say "unknown song," and THEN right-clicking the newly created folder from the burned CD. But since the playlist was 2:15.20 in honor of my goal time, obviously that was a non-workable solution anyway, given the fact my CDs only hold 80 minutes of music.

So what did I do? Copied each individual file, pasted it into a folder I created on the desktop, renamed each file so that it would say "01 Baby Got Back," or whatever (in other words, rename them so they started with the number they should be played in), lather, rinse, repeat. I did this for 40 files, toggling between windows media player to see what song came next, over to the my music folder where almost all the songs were, then over the mp3 file where there were some tunes I...um, didn't illegally download, then to the folder I was creating.

Seriously, that was undoubtedly the dumbest way ever to do it. But I didn't know how else to do it and I'm not really computer-savvy enough to know. I don't know if itunes would have made it easier, since the mp3 player I use for running is NOT my ipod, but one of those little 1GB jump sticks. It just seemed less time-intensive to do it my long, hard way rather than spend a huge amount of effort trying to find a shorter way to do it.

But the whole thing is a big symbol of how I persistently do things that are undoubtedly much more work than they need to be, simply because I am unable or unwilling to find out the easier way. It's like in my job, where I'm supposed to be doing all these group presentations with students. Guess what? I am rabidly phobic of group presentations when it comes to high school students. This is 100% because, much as I loved them individually, the kids at my former school were TERRORS when it came to doing stuff in front of them not one-on-one. Even if you were a strong teacher with good classroom management skills, they would talk all through whatever you were saying. And whenever I had to be in a classroom, it was for something they decidedly did not want to do, and they would drag their feet and complain and whine and talk back and generally be really unpleasant about the whole thing. They nearly made me cry on at least 4 different occasions, and the only reason I never succumbed was knowing that if I did, I'd lose all credibility and they'd run right over me until the end of time. I finally gave up and would do things like call all 200 juniors down, one at a time, to register them for the SATs rather than spend a day in the classrooms doing it because it was just too horrifying a prospect and if it was just one person and me, we'd get along just fine with no problems.

So even though I never had a problem speaking in groups before the previous job, and still don't as long as they're not high school students, I am doing everything possible to avoid having to do a group thing, even if it means much more work for myself. Yes, it will take longer, but ultimately it will less emotionally anxiety-provoking (for me).

Except when you consider the fact I am anxious about whether or not I'll be able to effectively reach all of them, thus compounding the drama, because now not only am I still stressed, I'm stressed with more work for myself. It's all ridiculous and stupid. Argh.

2007-01-28T22:26:00.000-05:00

Revised Goal

I did some math and realized two hours for 13.1 miles is completely ridiculous and unrealistic. Not only would I have to run faster than I ran my 10K, I'd have to run that faster speed for twice as long. Okay, no.

My new goal for the half-marathon? 2 hours 15 minutes. And so far the marathon mix includes (in no particular order):

* The Real Slim Shady (Eminem)
* Anarchy in the UK (the Motley Crue version)
* Huddle Formation (Go! Team)
* Airline to Heaven (Billy Bragg and Wilco)
* Tear Me Down (Hedwig and the Angry Inch soundtrack)
* American Idiot (Green Day)
* We're Not Gonna Take It (Twisted Sister)
* Me Against the Music (Britney Spears) (shut up! It's a good song to run to!)
* Holland, 1945 (Neutral Milk Hotel)
* Ever Fallen in Love? (the Buzzcocks)
* 6'1" (Liz Phair)
* Girl (Beck)
* Dancing in the Dark (Bruce Springsteen)
* Hollaback Girl (Gwen Stefani)
* Trusted (Ben Folds)
* Since U Been Gone (Kelly Clarkson)
* Modern Love (David Bowie)
* sk8er boi (Avril Lavigne) (insert the professor's gagging here)
* No Action (Elvis Costello)
* Now That We Found Love (Heavy D & the Boyz)
* Dame with a Rod (Juliana Hatfield)
* Dreaming of You (the Coral)
* Hung Up (Madonna)
* Wanna Be Starting Something (Michael Jackson)
* Stinging Velvet (Neko Case)
* Sorry Again (Velocity Girl)
* Panama (Van Halen)
* Mass Romantic (New Pornographers)
* Superman (REM)
* Baby Got Back (Sir Mix-a-Lot)
* Hollow Head (Sloan)
* London (the Smiths)
* The Modern Age (the Strokes)
* See the Constellation (They Might be Giants)
* Sweet Dreams (Tori Amos)

That should probably do it, no? I haven't counted, but that's pretty extensive. I hope so, at any rate. I'm determined to make an awesomely inspirational, no-duds mix for the Big Day.

By the way, how typical is it of me to be thinking more about the music than the training? Since, y'know, I skipped actually running today with the lame excuse that "my mp3 player's is dead and I can't bear to run in silence for 84 minutes." Talk about focusing on the wrong part of the equation.

2007-01-26T09:28:00.000-05:00

Two-track mind

So eventually I will write about something other than running or candy, but I guess nothing else is on my mind these days...or something. Anyway, on that note, running! Well, I am pleased to report that the fear of signing up for the half-marathon worked in that I finally got up and ran this morning for the first time in...oh, forever. I talked to my personal trainer yesterday (how Hollywood and glamorous do *I* sound? It's really not all that) about how to go from running 6.28 miles to 13.1 by May 6, and he said if I increase my distance by 0.3-0.5 miles every week, I should be fine. Oh, and that I should do intervals because it would get my body used to "resting" while still running, if that makes sense.

So today I decided to do a baseline and run 64 minutes (the time it took me to run the 10K last month) straight, varying my speed every two minutes. I started at 6.0, worked up to 6.7, went back down to 6.0, went back up to 6.8, then back down to 6.2 before doing my last 4 minute push which involves me upping my speed until I run the last two minutes at 7.5.

Wait, why did you fall asleep? Come back! I am happy to say that my 6.28 took 59 minutes, and that by the time I was done with the 64, I'd gone 6.85 miles. How awesome is that? So next time I'll add two minutes on to my time, and wow, I'll have run 7 miles. That. Is insane. Cool, but insane.

The only downside is the crippling, horrible pain. Seriously, while I was fine during the run, my quads are KILLING me right now. I warmed up, did a 10-minute cool down, stretched them afterwards...and yet, every time I stand up, my body wants to kill me. Ugh.

I'm still not entirely sure what I was thinking because the idea of running 13 miles, and getting myself ready to do it in only three months, still seems a bit overwhelming. But at the same time, the idea of a new goal to focus on is pretty cool and inspiring. I'm even working on a 2-hour playlist in my head to put on my newly acquired ipod for the day of the Big Race. Yes, that's right, bitches. Not only am I planning to run 13 miles for the first time in my life, I seem to think I will be able to do it in only 2 hours. Ha ha ha! Ha!

Ha!

2007-01-24T10:48:00.000-05:00

Now They've Gone Too Far

I am as much a fan of experimental candy as the next person. I have taken one for the team many a time and tried something that turned out fairly gross (dark chocolate M&Ms being the most surprising disappointment, since I'm an M&M fiend and also enjoy dark chocolate), but that's just the kind of person I am--willing to venture where others have not, all in the name of data collection and gathering. Most recently I tried an orange cream cadbury cream egg, and am pleased to report it was good. Not as awesome as a chocolate orange is, but it would do in a pinch if I were craving orange-flavored chocolate and couldn't find the real thing. If it's artificially flavored (...if?), it's in a good way, not the nasty Hershey way that I have learned is disgusting (any flavored kisses should be avoided at all costs).

But yesterday I got a bunch of junk mail that included some coupons to 7-11. And what should be included in those coupons? $1 off CHOCOLATE COVERED ALTOIDS.

The fuck? I am literally without speech. Just...no. No. No, no, no.

2007-01-22T19:01:00.000-05:00

I'll Take You Home And Make You Like It

Okay, my latest obsession when it comes to music is making a CD of just one artist, my favorites off each album, and then listening to that pretty much over anything else by them. I've done it with the Beatles (the very first one, back in 1996--when I was still making them as mix TAPES!); Madonna (shut up, it's a good mix), Magnetic Fields, Neko Case, and right before the holidays, Sloan. And now? Liz Phair.

The only problem is that despite the fact she's kind of gotten sucky (Somebody's Miracle? Somebody's shite! That doesn't even make sense, but I got to use the word "shite," so it stays), I still managed to come up with enough "must-haves" to make a 101-minute list when my CDs only hold 80 minutes worth of music.

This is what I have on my list. Gentle readers, what would you advocate cutting out? What are you completely horrified by the absence of?

From Exile in Guyville:
6'1", Help Me Mary, Soap Star Joe, Explain It To Me, Fuck and Run, Girls Girls Girls, Divorce Song, Stratford-on-Guy, Johnny Sunshine.

From Whip-Smart:
Supernova, Support System, x-ray man, Nashville, Go West, Dogs of LA, Jealousy, Crater Lake.

From the Juvenalia ep:
California

From whitechocolatespaceegg:
Perfect World, Johnny Feelgood, Love is Nothing, Baby Got Going, Ride, Headache, What Makes You Happy

From Liz Phair:
Extraordinary, It's Sweet, Rock Me, Little Digger, Friend of Mine

From Somebody's Miracle:
Stars and Planets, Can't Get Out of What I'm Into

From the Higher Learning soundtrack:
Don't Have Time

Interestingly, looking over this list, while I tend to pick either Whip-Smart or Guyville when I'm in a Liz Phair mood, I like more from whitechocolatespaceegg than I'd initially thought. It's a bunch of good songs that don't add up to a cohesive album for me, I guess.

Anyway...opinions are appreciated, even if it's "Your taste in Liz Phair sucks."

2007-01-22T12:19:00.000-05:00

If Losing $60 Doesn't Inspire Me, Nothing Will

So, I did it. I just signed up for a half-marathon. 13 miles, bitches! The hell?

The question I am asking myself is, "What was I thinking?" What I was thinking was, I need some motivation. I am not having a hard time getting to the gym for classes these days, but I am having a hard time feeling motivated to run. I can't explain what it is, but whenever it's a running day, I do whatever I can to get out of it. And you could say, well, don't worry about it, at least you're still exercising...but I LIKE running, usually, and am always happy whenever I DO manage to get myself to do it. Even more importantly, I worked a really, really long time to get to the point where I could do the 10K that I did in December and not pass out. I don't want to lose the level of fitness I'm at now, and I'm worried that stepping back from running will do that. I just want my motivation back!

With that in mind, I shelled out the $55 (plus $4.98 processing fee!) needed to participate in the marathon/half-marathon to be held on Sunday, May 6, in Alexandria, VA. I know better than to ask my sister if she'll join me (will you?), so I'm assuming I'm on my own. My personal trainer assures me that if I made it through the 10K and didn't die, I should be fine for a half-marathon--at that point it's more about will and determination vs. physical stamina. And maybe having a new goal to train towards will help me get focused again...I hope so, at any rate. If nothing else, the idea of not showing up and wasting $60 should inspire me for at least a few weeks.

2007-01-16T15:53:00.000-05:00

Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life (pun intended)

My sister has this rule that you should abstain from non-homebaked goods. The rationale, she says, is that they're just Not That Good, and they're not worth the effort and calories and la la la.

In theory, this makes sense. In actuality, I am consistently unable to adhere to this rule. For every crappy dry brownie I eat from a deli, there's a gloriously rich and delectable one I get somewhere else. It's classical conditioning in action, man. If I got consistently negative reinforcement, this rule would be easy. If I got consistently positive reinforcement, the rule would not need to be in effect. But instead, I get intermittent reinforcement (that's not its name, but I've blanked on what it's called officially)...leading me to confusion.

It doesn't help that I am powerless to resist Office Cake. Which, I might add, isn't even a real weakness for me ordinarily (brownies and candy rule...cake? Only okay), unless it's sitting in front of me at work. Yesterday there were two GIANT cakes sitting in the office kitchen--a TRIPLE CHOCOLATE LAYER CAKE (with chocolate icing!) and one of those store-bought sheet cakes, half yellow, half chocolate. I told myself I could have a "bite" of the chocolate layer cake while my lunch was heating up, but it was so good the "bite" turned into a giant honking piece. Then, today, I did manage to just have a "bite" of the sheet cake, but it was so good I've been negotiating with myself ever since as to whether or not I can go back and get a full-sized slice ("I won't eat the final Snickers nutcracker I was planning to have for dessert tonight if I eat this cake...I won't get chips and salsa at Chipotle where I'm stopping to get dinner en route to somewhere else tonight..."). Uh, no. I know, and if my gentle readers know me AT ALL, they know as well, that negotiations like that don't work for me. Particularly since the aforementioned Snickers nutcracker is already here in my lunch bag, ready for consumption post Chipotle.

Fortunately reason has prevailed, particularly since the sheet cake that's left is chocolate--which I don't even really like. But why, oh why, is it even an issue to begin with? Why was I given not one, not two, but a full mouthful of sweet teeth? Why dost thou torment me so, office cake, brownies, candy, and ice cream?

2007-01-10T13:18:00.000-05:00

Ow, Ow, Ow

So belonging to a gym again rules, man. It's actually pretty cool in that yesterday I went and did step aerobics for the first time in approximately 4 years, and then today I went to a branch by work for lunch after I didn't feel like dragging my ass out of bed at 5:30 to do the run in my complex's mini-gym (read: two treadmills and a stairclimber). AND my heel/achilles tendon, which has been bothering me like crazy for pretty much the past three months, is feeling much better these days, and I think I realized it's because I was doing aerobics on carpeting (in my apartment) which is just Not Good for it. This is the first time I've ever lived in a place with wall-to-wall carpeting, and I already hated it for aesthetic reasons. But now I hate it for a practical one too. It makes your body hurt! Bad!

Speaking of hurting, oh my lord my calves hate me right now. See, as I just finished saying, I haven't done step aerobics in years. And when I used to do it, I never used any of the risers you put under the step. But yesterday I bucked up and put them on, and I think my legs hate me now. Seriously, I was a little achey for most of today, it was okay when I was running this afternoon, but when I just stood up to close the door to the office? Um, not so much. Stiffy McHobbler and all that. Yikes.

Quick question: if you see someone in the aforementioned step aerobics who looks JUST LIKE someone you went to high school with, do you approach her and ask if she is in fact the person from high school? We weren't super duper close, but I couldn't stop staring at her to see if she was who I thought she was. Good thing I wasn't wearing my I Heart Christian Chicks shirt, or she could have gotten a very different idea. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

2007-01-08T18:54:00.000-05:00

Post New Year's check-in

Christmas candy left: 1 candy bar (the Lion, the second best European candy bar EVER!); 7 snickers nutcrackers (ok, I may have bought a few too many thinking I wouldn't be getting any in my stocking); Ghiardelli peppermint bark bar; most (90%) of my box of homemade cookies. Oh, plus the tasty mint cookie candy my sister only remembered to give me yesterday.

Christmas candy consumed: multiple packs of Starbucks chocolate-covered graham crackers; four Hershey's Santas; 4 snickers nutcrackers (two of which had come in my stocking--just as a point of data for you gentle readers, the snickers pumpkin is better than the nutcracker, I have established, though obviously the nutcracker is still a tasty snack); a tin of homemade shortbread; a delicious chocolate orange candy; two reese's peanut butter trees; a bag of chocolate covered hazelnuts from the professor; an Aero-mint bar; a miniature box of Whitman's sampler (the four-piece one).

Weight gained over the holidays: 4 pounds (looking at what I consumed above, who's surprised?)

Weight lost since returning from the holidays: 2 pounds

New Year's resolutions broken: Well, pretty much both of them, because I've only read the paper twice since last week and while I've read 4 books, none of them were from my bookcase.

In other news, I joined a gym today, complete with 6 one-hour personal training sessions. And oh my god, I am scared shitless of my first meeting. I'd actually intended to, you know, comparison shop and everything between the gym I currently am now signed up for with another gym, both of which are equidistant from my house. Other gym has a pool, which is advantageous because I LOVE swimming laps--I like doing a not-sweaty activity once in awhile, and I like the way my brain just wanders and I really process a lot while swimming. However, this gym has 6 a.m. classes (aerobics, spinning, etc), and that, combined with the anxiety I felt during the entire gym tour, made me just sign up with them and get it over with rather than go through the whole ordeal all over again at another gym. For whatever reason talking about issues of weight and fitness STILL makes me feel tense and defensive. I just worry that all the super-fit trainers are seeing back through space and time and viewing me as the couch potato loser of my youth who was consistently picked last in gym rather than the relatively decently in-shape person that I am nowadays. Because of that background, it's hard not to project more sinister things onto such questions as "When was the last time you were happy with your level of fitness?" Instead of hearing "When was the last time you were happy with your level of fitness?," I heard, "Why are you in this gym full of hard bodies, you big fat loser?" and was like, "I am now! I just ran a 10K race two weeks ago!" Maybe the other New Year's resolution should be to Be Less Defensive, though I'd probably break that as quickly as I did the other two.

Anyway, I survived, and now I'm excited about doing other things rather than my same aerobics tapes and running that I currently alternate between. And of course, there's my Friday night appointment with Ryan the Personal Trainer to look forward to. If I'm lucky, he'll wait a week before busting out the ball Miss Alli loves so dearly. Because I own that ball, and she's right. It's a medieval instrument of torture.

2007-01-06T14:56:00.000-05:00

Thirteen People (cause frivolous, meaningless questionnaires never get old)

Ripped from Shawn's (half of Chrishawn) Myspace bulletin....

Can you name 13 people you can think of right off the top of your head?

1. The professor
2. The musician
3. Gill
4. The law student
5. My sister
6. London Boy
7. My friend from hs the teacher
8. My friend from childhood the Internet Sleuth
9. Bill's Evil Twin
10. Colon Full o'Carrots
11. Shawn
12. Chris (of Chrishawn)
13. My friend the Green Party Member's Wife (why her?? No idea)

1. How did you meet 10 (Colon)? Through the best sister in the world!

2. Have you ever seen 4 (law student) cry? Yes, but very rarely. Definitely once, MAYBE twice (and we've been friends since 1991!)

3. Would 11 and 2 (Shawn and the musician) make a good couple? The musician is not gay, and #11 is already in a relationship...but even with those things set aside...actually, upon further reflection, it's not entirely out of the question. There are certainly more incompatible people out there, that's for sure.

4. Are you good friends with 13 (green party member's wife)? Yes, but I'm closer to Green Party Member himself, so it's interesting I thought of her before him. Not sure what's up with that!

5. Do you think 5 (my sister) is cute? I think she's one of the most beautiful people I know, but there's no bias or anything there. No seriously, I do think that.

6. Something about number 1 (the professor)? The first one I call when I'm crying hysterically, and yet he still picks up the phone. Amazing. Also probably one of the people who has the most influence over me, which sounds sort of Svengali-like, but more like, I value his opinion probably the most--at least top 3--of all my friends.

7. How did you meet 8 (the internet sleuth)? She lived across the street from me growing up...we met when we were four.

8. What's 7's (the teacher) favorite color? Uh, no idea?

9. What would you do if 6 (london boy) just confessed that they liked you? He already has...his moniker says it all, however. There's no point in a long-distance relationship again, particularly with someone overseas who is completely different from me in every way, shape, or form (a libertarian businessman from texas who goes to church every sunday and wants kids, and to take them to church every sunday??). We do get along extremely well, despite our on-paper incompatibilities...but alas, London is more insurmountable an obstacle than libertarian theist who wants children. Tee.

10. Fact about 9 (Bill's Evil Twin)? The first true friend I've made (outside of work friendships) since college. The fact he met me at somewhat of a low point (unemployed and having just moved here, with all the drama that accompanies both those things) and continues to hang out with me also continually amazes me.

11. What does 1 (the professor) do for a living? Again, the name says it all!

12. Would you ever live with 12 (chris)? Well, if I were inclined to live with ANYBODY I wasn't dating, again, I think there would be more incompatible people I could live with. Sure, why not?

13. Is 2 (the musician) single? Not sure, haven't talked to him since Thanksgiving, when he was in the throes of drama with an ex....so, maybe.

14. Where does 7 (the teacher) live? about 10 minutes away from me, baby!

15. What do you think about 2 (the musician)? In many ways he's the one I feel the most compatible with emotionally...he expresses so many things I'm feeling but have never articulated, and has a very similar outlook to a lot of things as I. In many ways, however, he's the complete opposite of me...while we're both moody, introspective, and semi-artistically inclined, he goes bar-hopping and gets drunk 3-4 nights a week while I stay at home and wear black because art is dead.

16. Whats the worst and best thing about 5 (my sister)? The worst and the best are the same--that we are so much alike we get along like gangbusters when we're getting along. But when we're not, we get grumpy and moody and fight in the exact same way.

17. Who is 11 (shawn) going out with? #12 (chris)!

18. What do you like about number 3 (gill)? He's the most positive, optimistic, and has the sunniest outlook of all my friends, which makes it easier for me to be the same way when we're together. He's also the quickest to offer support in ways others find horrific (e.g., he's helped me move from Boston to NYC, NYC to Cincinnati, AND Cincinnati to VA). He's also adventurous and inquisitive and always wants to learn new things, which is kind of inspirational.

2007-01-05T15:09:00.000-05:00

A Three-Part Entry

Part One: Tomato, Tomahto

If, when you think about someone, you just get irritated by his existence, and if you imagine him emailing you and asking you to give him a second chance you realize, ugh, no, you are a disaster, and if you look at pictures you are like, okay, why was I ever attracted to you, that means you're over him, right? And yet, if that is the case, why is that when bored on the internet I find myself looking him and his online journal up, and basically virtually stalking him, and the idea of somehow encountering him gives me hives, and sometimes I still cry when I think about him? My brain has moved on, but my hurt feelings and/or heart haven't fully gotten the message, I guess. It sucks. It makes me want to cry thinking about it even now, it's so lame and pathetic. Either that or just feel like a major idiot.

*************
Part Two: Procrastination

In less melodramatic news (or is it...?), FOUR people are currently registered for the class I start teaching in about two weeks. Four! When the class limit is 40! Makes all of my group ideas (which I hate, but have to acknowledge are All the Rage in Modern Pedagogy) seem a little more challenging to implement. You'd think that since this is my first teaching experience EVER and the fact the class starts two weeks from today would inspire me to, you know, draw up lesson plans and finalize my syllabus. And yet I find myself strangely unable to do either. I guess it's because the topics look really dull. I've done the first two weeks....only six more to go. That's my plan for Sunday (in between running with my sister and going back to community band after our post-holiday concert hiatus), so hopefully I finally will manage to finish it off. Hey, I actually took my Christmas tree down yesterday and have my laundry ready to do tonight, so maybe 2007 is the start of a more responsible me. Anything's possible.

*************
Part Three: No Entry is Complete Without a Random Celebrity Note

Okay, apparently there is a student who goes here named Jesse Metcalfe. Is it too much to hope that it's the same Jesse Metcalfe in such teen classics as Bring It On and Swimfan? Anything's possible...after all, at one of my former jobs, our students included Kate Cruise (nee Katie Holmes) and Monica Lewinsky (best celebrity encounter EVER! She was so nice!). Of course, a prestigious Ivy League university is not exactly the same as a community college, and I don't think even Jesse Metcalfe needs to slum quite that much. But I could be wrong. It never hurts to dream, right?

2007-01-04T08:35:00.000-05:00

Sex, Lies, and Videotape

Okay, after that inspirational ode to great prose, I clicked on Yahoo's home page and saw the headlining story is that Steve Irwin's wife has been given a copy of the tape of her husband being stabbed to death by a stingray, and that the rest of the copies (?! They made COPIES of this tape??!!) have been destroyed "to prevent a leak".

What is UP with people's fascination with death tapes? I find this incredibly creepy and gross. Like the Saddam execution video my pal Gill thoughtfully forwarded me a link to. No fricking way, man. I don't want to see that shite. This is the same pal who sat through the Daniel Pearl video (and admittedly felt queasy afterwards, but the fact he even started to watch it, let alone finished it, is weird to me). I get so freaked out even with still pictures of people facing imminent death, especially when the people KNOW it's coming, like Saddam did, like Daniel Pearl did.

And if you were Terri Irwin, would you really want to sit through a tape of your husband happily swimming along, only to get stabbed and die almost instantaneously? No, no, no.

2007-01-04T08:31:00.000-05:00

Quoth the raven

So I finally finished Zadie Smith's On Beauty, and yes, it ruled just as much as it did when I started it on the plane back from Amsterdam (...in August). You know when you're listening to a song, or reading a book, and there's just a line that's so poetic and gorgeous you're almost sick to your stomach from the brilliance? Okay, maybe you don't, but I loved this line:

The greatest lie ever told about love is that it sets you free.

2007-01-03T18:57:00.000-05:00

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (way late)

Okay, I meant to post this back when Christmas was actually imminent rather than over, but such is life. Belatedly is better than never....etc.

Anyway.....yes, Virginia, it IS possible to be an atheist and still love Christmas. That cheesy Hershey's kisses commercial where the kisses are bells that are ringing out "We Wish You a Merry Christmas?" LOVE. I always stop the fast-forwarding and watch it with a happy little smile on my face. Charlie Brown Christmas? Adore. Driving around seeing crazy houses with insane numbers of lights, like the one above in Boston? You betcha. I even like going to church (gasp!) on Christmas Eve, playing the hymns, singing the carols, hearing the lessons. It's just a nice happy time...even buying and wrapping shitloads of presents. Of course, my previous state of unemployment meant that this was the first year I didn't start in August (to spread the expenses out over a few months), so when I opened my ginormous "all presents were purchased between Thanksgiving and New Year's" credit card bill, I nearly hard a heart attack...but oh well. I think everybody liked their presents, and if they didn't, they're all from easily returnable places, so I'll never have to know.

Much as I like buying presents, I would be more than a little bit lying if I didn't admit to enjoying RECEIVING them as well. Here is a list of some of the things I was psyched to get this year, either from myself, family, or friends. Note: I'm listing them in the order in which I received them, so no inference about their level of enjoyment should be made!

From Bill's Evil Twin: the best homemade shortbread EVER. Seriously, I loved it.

From my sister and/or Joey F: the cutest little homemade duck pillow, a gorgeous new work bag for the laptop the job's been promising me since I started, an awesome box to carry all the work shite I'll be keeping in my car since I won't really have a permanent office, an Amazing Race promo DVD, the new Shins CD, yummy chocolate orange candy.

From my parents: homemade mint M&M cookies, which are currently housed in my freezer for longevity's sake.

From the law student: a book on famous serial killers!

From the professor: The Office (US) Season 2!!

From me, myself, and I: the cutest work shoes EVER--brown mary janes with a stack heel. I needed brown non-open toed shoes for skirts, and these are it. Whoohoo. Plus, new running shorts!

My current ethical dilemma is this: if you see one of the coolest books EVER (Malcolm X: A Graphic Biography), and you buy it for a friend with whom you do not ordinarily exchange gifts, "just because" you think he'd like it...but then you don't see him and won't for quite some time so you'll have to drag your ass to the post office on a Saturday to mail it to him, is it ethical to keep it for yourself? I mean really, it's not like he'll ever know, considering you've never exchanged presents with him in the entire 17 years of your friendship. It's a dilemma. It sits under the tree, all wrapped and pretty, tormenting me. "Open me! Enjoy me!" We'll see what I decide.

2007-01-03T11:56:00.000-05:00

I Heart NY

On my last day in New York City (New Year's Eve), I went to the Picasso and American Art Exhibit at the Whitney, then walked over to 5th Avenue to catch the bus back to my pal Gill's place. I'd been feeling nostsalgic and sad in NYC, realizing how much I love the city, how stupid it had been to leave for Cincinnati, wishing I could come back, etc. Of course, this is sort of a false premise, because while I was IN NYC I was wishing I could see my family more often...so ultimately I know I made the right choice to come back here (even though I have mixed feelings about the 2 years' detour through Cincinnati part of it). But I will always adore New York, and I hope that now that I have a job I can feel more comfortable with spending the money to go up there more often, because it truly is an awesome place to visit, and of course, one of my best friends living there doesn't hurt in the slightest.

Anyway, I love both of the pictures here, especially the one below. Something about the way the dark trees are juxtaposed against the bright blue sky. I can get all metaphorical and shit if you'd like, and talk about what the pictures Mean for Me and My New Resolutions, but whatever. Sometimes pictures are just pictures, and you should be able to enjoy them as they are. Right?

2007-01-02T20:40:00.000-05:00

It's the New Year, bitches!

Okay, so there were definitely some sucky elements to last year: moving, unemployment, crippling depression, heartbreak. But there were loads of good things, too!

--spending more time with my sister and her new awesome husband
--losing a bunch of weight
--running (and finishing) my first race, ever
--making some new friends, and feeling more comfortable with doing things I NEVER would have done a few years ago (going on online dates, showing up at parties or social events where I only know one person)

...um, okay, that isn't a LOAD of good things. But I am trying to look on the bright side of life these days, to leave the past where it belongs (in the past), not feel like I'm doomed to be a perpetual fuckup just because of past mistakes. Obviously I am varying degrees of successful with that effort from day to day, but there you go.

My official New Year's resolutions, and my prognosis of them actually happening:

1). Reading all of the books in my bookcase (I've read about 2/3 of what I own). Prognosis: Fairly good, if I can stop myself from getting books from the library that are obviously due back more quickly (3 weeks) than what's on my shelf (never).

2). Reading the Washington Post every day. Prognosis: Not as good, considering that it looks like now that the job is actually starting to pick up, it's going to be one of those non-stop situations where I barely get to eat, never mind wade through the Front Page, "A" Section, Style, and Business sections. Then when I get home, a whole new day's worth of news has happened, making me less inspired to go back to it. I guess I can try subscribing to the print version and reading that on my lunch break. We'll see.

3). TBD. There are nebulous, vague things like what I wrote above ("leaving the past where it belongs") and "being okay with not being perfect all the time, both physically and emotionally," but those don't really feel like they should be RESOLUTIONS, just general self-improvement goals. I also contemplated giving up all meat except chicken (which I could never fully abandon), but then I realized that would also mean giving up turkey burgers, which I adore, and really, that's pretty much 99% of the meat I eat these days anyway, and the other 1% is pepperoni pizza, so just giving up "pepperoni" didn't really seem like a very exciting, challenging, or otherwise emotionally fulfilling resolution.

So that's where I am on January 2, 2007. A completely different person from a year ago (when I had the shittiest Christmas/New Year's EVER because all I could think about was the fact that the year before had been my first one living with ex-Cincinnati boy and how quickly it all fell apart), but still in transition to a new and improved me. I guess my third resolution IS to leave the past in the past. To be less hyper-analytical of myself and my shortcomings. To accentuate the funny, smart, perceptive, kind, driven (and let's not forget modest!) side of me and forsake the insecure, anxiety-driven one. Prognosis: cautiously optimistic. Fake it till you make it...right?

2006-12-18T18:53:00.000-05:00

Throwdown in Somalia

As part of my neverending quest to find ways to Improve Myself, I have returned to reading the Washington Post on a daily basis after a shockingly long time away from regularly reading the newspaper. In my defense, the professor and Gill and others send me articles of interest, and I'll check out CNN.com and see yahoo headlines and glean bits of information through osmosis, so I usually have a working knowledge of crucial news...but truthfully I also have huge pockets and gaps of awareness of what was going on that could potentially be very embarrassing. I mean, I'd tell you all the crazy new things I've learned in just one short week, but that would reveal just how ignorant I'd been before. And that just won't do.

So anyway, apparently al-Qaeda has been working on establishing some roots in Somalia and may start operating from there, and bin Laden has been doing his best to fan the flames of growing conflict between Somalia and Ethiopia to help him gain a stronghold there. Okay, that's all well and good, I'm glad I know this. But then the reporter busts out this gem:

"Last week, Somali Islamists threatened a "major attack" if the Ethiopians do not withdraw by Tuesday. Ethiopia has said, in essence, bring it on."

Bring it on?! What the FUCK? This isn't a competition between Kirsten Dunst and the Compton Cheerleaders ("Brr! It's COLD out there! I said there MUST be some TOROS in the ATMOSPHERE!"....oh wait, this is Serious Discussion time). Since when did the Washington Post, which, you know, BROKE THE WATERGATE SCANDAL, employ valley girl teenage wannabes? I mean, yes, I write and talk like one at times, but I'm not a freaking reporter for one of the most prestigious papers in the US....I'm just blogging anonymously. On a free site, no less.

It's as if the reporter thought Post meant New York Post. I just don't get it. My heart, it is very sad.

2006-12-17T19:20:00.000-05:00

I hate Will Smith

His latest movie (The Pursuit of Happiness [sic]) looks like treacly "heart-warming" crap and I don't understand why it is #1 this week. And if I ever were even remotely THINKING about seeing it, it's actually spelled The Pursuit of HAPPYNESS. Why? WHY??? I get so enraged every time I see that bad spelling I almost want to throw up.

(This is like that Baby-Sitters Club book when Kristy started the softball team, Kristy's Krushers, only her stepsister Karen refused to wear a shirt misspelled and made one that said Kristy's Crushers. Fictional Karen, you were incredibly annoying and chapters in the series that featured your "adorable" antics (only slightly less annoying than when the Cos featured the younger kids on the later episodes of the Cosby Show in his own version of "Kids Say/Do The Darndest Things") gave me a toothache, they were so saccharine-sweet, but I feel your pain on this issue!)

Anyway, this is why I would be terrible in a focus group. I thought this movie looked like ass, I thought Mel Gibson's What Women Want would sink faster than the Titanic (oh wait, it took ages to sink...you know what I mean)...I am consistently overestimating the public's taste, I suppose. I guess that's why I continue to remain baffled by the popularity of such shows as 2.5 Men, King of Queens, Everybody Loves Raymond. Etc.

2006-12-17T19:07:00.000-05:00

Nuts and gum--together at last!

I have many things I have been thinking about writing about but this 8:30-5:00 full-time job thing is a killer. Some things on my mind:

1). Why, despite my transformation from laissez-faire atheist to angry atheist (thanks, two years in Cincinnati!), I still adore Christmas

2). Why I am massively failing at my biggest loser attempts and why I am essentially giving up on losing more weight and now working to just be happy where I am

3). Random miscellany about celebrities and the fascinating world they inhabit

However, instead I am choosing to take some time to wrap some of the gallons of presents sitting under my newly decorated tree (at last!). In the meantime, below is a sign I saw while driving the other day that I absolutely loved. Who knew those two things could be so good together? (Well, I guess the psychic did!)

2006-12-11T09:04:00.000-05:00

150.8

Yes, it's a gain, but I am choosing to view it as a victory nonetheless for two reasons: one, after my festival of candy and slothfulness at the conference, I weighed myself Thursday morning and was horrified to see I'd gained FIVE POUNDS since Monday (and yes, some of that was crazy water weight, but still!). So coming down nearly 4 pounds since Thursday is just fine. Two, in between Thursday and today I did the 20 points thing and managed to do much better than previous attempts to stay within those limits. So I am confident that this week I can stay within the 20 points and be okay. Of course, technically I am eligible for 22 points again, due to that .8, but Karen suggested I just stick with the 20 and stop seesawing, and I think she's right. We shall see, at any rate.

Plus, I did a Tae Bo video this morning that always ends in killer ass and abs work (or, as Billy Blanks says, Butt-TOCKS work), and for the first time EVER I finished! So even if my weight is fluctuating a bit, I am getting stronger and healthier, which ultimately at this point is the most important thing to me. Yes, I'd like to get down more in weight, but I'd also like to continually give myself new physical challenges--and meet them.

Unrelatedly, I was horrified to realize that Christmas is two weeks from today. What? When did THAT happen?

2006-12-10T11:11:00.000-05:00

1:04.15

When your alarm goes off at 5:00 a.m. on a Sunday and this is how dark it is outside as you're driving to your sister's house, and did I mention it's 26 degrees outside?...suddenly a 10K run seems like a really, really dumb idea. Especially when your toes are freezing and when you finally do get to start running, your legs are so stiff from the cold and standing you don't even really feel them moving.

But, because we are nothing if not persistent, we slogged on, and suddenly 2 miles had passed, and oh my GOD people were passing us on the way BACK towards the finish line!, and then we were halfway there, and WE were the ones passing people...and we got our last water handout (that both of us dumped more on ourselves than into our mouths, because that's what happens when you give someone running a nearly full cup of very cold water), and then it was 4 miles, and then 5, and then I could see the finish line ahead of me and it was totally one of those Rocky moments where I'm picking up speed and passing people left and right in my quest to finish strong. And finish strong I did--in 1 hour, 4 minutes, and 15 seconds, with Karen about 30 seconds behind me, yeah baby! Considering a) the horrific cold that made us start slowly, b) the fact we previously had run trial races in 66 and 67 minutes, and c) the fact this was my first race, EVER...I'll take it. In sweaty triumph we collected our free water, our bananas, and our sugar cookies, then staggered off to find the car and come home. Which we did, about 30 minutes after the race was over. Cause while we may be persistant and stubborn, we're also incredibly unobservant about where we park and how to get where we need to be.

After the race:

2006-12-06T19:22:00.000-05:00

Good thing I took this quiz on an "up" day...

Which Princess Bride Character are You?

Because really, my sister gets to be the beautiful Buttercup, and I have to be short, bald, and male (and ultimately not as clever as I thought myself to be)? Even in fake online quizzes based on 5 questions, old familial patterns are reinforced.

Richmond conference update: a fun time was had most of the time (except for the really really boring sessions), they had an awesome gym complete with a stair climber (where you climb actual stairs into nowheresville), so I got to do new things because I am getting seriously sick of running/aerobics and need to Mix It Up, and...oh dear god, the free stuff. Free pens, free post-it pads...and SO MUCH FREE CANDY. Hershey's miniatures galore! And a yummy Chinese restaurant I ate at both nights for dinner! I am so fucked this week it's not even going to be funny. I have to be perfect between now and Monday to even break even, and since I just got invited to my first holiday party of the season Saturday night? I'm fucked again. Oh well, all I can do is my best, right? I mean, since we already know I'm no Buttercup.

2006-12-04T06:03:00.000-05:00

149.2

Huh? I expected this week to be a spectacular failure given the fact I kind of had little motivation, made some definitely questionable choices ("Popcorn and a brownie for dinner while seeing For Your Consideration sounds like a GREAT idea!"), and didn't work out at least one day, if not two...I no longer remember. Anyway, for whatever reason it wasn't and I nearly fell off the scale in shock this morning when I saw the above number.

But I've been here before and I know what happens next--backsliding as I attempt to live off 20 weight watchers points per day instead of the 22 I've been doing for ages and can do quite comfortably. Add on the fact I leave in a few hours for a three-day conference in Richmond and good Lord, I'm fucked! Nothing throws me off more than going somewhere I can't control as easily what I eat (because you go out to eat a lot and you don't eat on your regular schedule, which for me right now is 8/noon/5:30ish with snacks in between) and/or exercise (because I have to rely on the hotel gym and what if the treadmills are all being used when I have time to work out and blah blah blah?). I guess this is one of god's little tests for me, to find out just how badly I do (or do not) want the 1.8 more pounds I have to lose to achieve my miniature December biggest loser goal. Right?

2006-12-03T15:56:00.000-05:00

Amazing Race prediction

My thinking is that, tragic as it will be for those who have an unholy love for him (namely, myself and Karen), Rob and Kimberly will be the ones to go tonight. They have issues with remaining clam under pressure, and they have a history of either the worst car luck in history (flats, breakdowns, etc) or somehow being responsible for all of these cars breaking down. Also, the way the show has been edited, a final three of who's left would read as follows:

1). Dustin and Kandice, the evil bitchy team to root against
2). James and Tyler, the addicts and models who have overcome adversity (and, don't forget, are the young athletic male team that generally wins this race, and who I assume will win this time around)
3). Lyn and Karlyn, the underdogs we're all rooting against but are disappointed to see lose (not me! Well, I like the underdog factor, but I DON'T like the "Karlyn has a stick up her ass" factor)

The other way it could go is that Lyn & Karlyn are eliminated because they've been the weakest link for a long time and it's about time it caught up to them...but I think it's Rob and Kimberly. Tragic as that is, and uninteresting as that would make the final, since the best part of this season is getting excited every time hot hot Rob shows up on screen.

Am I right? Only the Shadow (and the racers, and the editors, and probably the entire spoiler thread on twop) knows!

2006-12-03T14:41:00.000-05:00

2007 will be AWESOME!

Just ask astrocenter.com!

"You've been carrying a heavy load, Leo, so you will be pleased to know that your life is going to lighten up considerably in 2007. With Saturn leaving your sign this year, you'll notice that obstacles and limitations begin to clear up, and you will have more time and energy to do what you want, not what everyone else expects of you. Better still, Jupiter is positioned throughout the year to bring you incredible good luck in all areas of your life, particularly love. If you're single and looking, you won't be for much longer. If you're already committed, 2007 could bring the pitter-patter of little feet. Your 2007 Forecast will help you decide how best to channel your optimism and renewed self-confidence in order to achieve your life-long goals and dreams."

Okay, how did they KNOW all of these things about me? I HAVE had obstacles and limitations! It's like they're READING MY MIND! Also, has every Leo on the planet been carrying a heavy load this year? Do they all either want a boy/girlfriend or baby? I guess all Leos are going to hook up with each other, because if this forecast is to come true for everybody...that's a lot of people. If only I were willing to spend $24.95 to find out my complete and total forecast...but alas, I'll just have to cling tightly to this above paragraph and repeat it to myself when the nights are long. Things are going to be AMAZING next year...because astrocenter.com says so! Whee!

2006-11-27T18:36:00.000-05:00

The Most Dangerous Time of the Year

If you are a recovering candy freak who loves sweets in nearly every shape and form, the time between Halloween and Christmas sucks ass. Okay, that's not true...more accurately, it's sweet, delicious, evil torture, because everywhere you go, there are tons of treats. Whether it's the homemade brownies, cakes, whatever your co-workers bring in, or all the free shite advertisers send you (like the time at Columbia we got a ginormous solid chocolate bar in with a New York Times front page imprinted on...oh my god, I'm salivating remembering it even now. It doesn't help I'm patiently waiting for my dinner to be ready because I'm SO HUNGRY...but I digress), or the sweet sweet limited edition holiday candy that comes out, it's all irresistible to me and like many people I wind up gaining five pounds or so over the holidays.

Well, not this year! Colon Full o'Carrots has balls of steel and I completely admire her for them, because I'd pretty much resigned myself to not losing anymore weight between now and 1/1/07 (I've been in a holding pattern since mid-September or so, which is when the worst of all the not having a job and everything else angst kicked in) and just focusing on not GAINING any this season. Colon, however, is determined not to give up, and emailed me that we should work on it together in solidarity so that the holidays don't become a sucky reminder of our weak-willed selves. But her willingness to stare down holiday sweets is only half the reason I admire her--the other half is that she actually posted her weight on her blog, something most people I know (myself included) are still hesitant to do. But since she did, I must as well, and so I plunge off the deep end of the pool and say...

My starting weight for our adventure is 151. My goal between now and December 31? 4 pounds. It was going to be 3, but that's when I thought I was going to be 150. Damn you, week of sickness and no exercise! I guess it's true...if you don't do anything from Wednesday to Sunday but sleep 10-12 hours a day (plus naps!) and eat nothing but candy on the rare occasions you actually do feel like eating, you won't lose any weight. If only it DID work that way.

2006-11-26T21:07:00.000-05:00

A new day, a new job, a new life

I cleaned my house. I started to look at, and then promptly put aside for the day I can't delay it any longer, my new health insurance information. I figured out what I'm going to wear tomorrow. I went shopping for groceries and miscellaneous supplies and came home with a new winter coat and set of accessories (scarf, gloves, etc). I watched all of Disc 2 of Arrested Development Season 1.

Yep, it's back to my old Sunday routine. This is exactly how I used to spend Sundays in Cincinnati (okay, I didn't come home with a new coat EVERY WEEK...but more often than not I found myself buying clothes or otherwise spending money frivolously). And it. Feels. AWESOME.

I am SO ready to start the new job!

2006-11-26T21:03:00.000-05:00

Memories of Oberlin

"Recently I attended an eightieth birthday party in Vermont for my freshman year roommate, and there met someone of that age who had gone to the University of Michigan, which in his day had some 10,000 students and today has 30,000 or more. He was astonished that many of those in the room had been close friends for six decades, having met first in an Oberlin dining hall. He had not, he told me, heard from a single classmate since his graduation."

I love reading personal histories from way back whenever, and this Oberlin Heritage piece about life as a student in the 1940s is no exception. What I find so cool about my Oberlin experience is that I thought the sort of situation I graduated with--having made friends every year, friends I still have today and consider my best friends--was typical. It's only as I meet new people in the real world that I realize that no, it's really not. But we didn't know that at the time, so it's not like we all walked around thinking we were special or something. It was just how it was. And it's only now, with the knowledge of how rare an experience I had at college, that I can appreciate those memories even more than I already did.