Tonight I did the thing no woman should ever have to do. I went (gasp) bathing suit shopping. I've got a vacation with Janemyjane and Neeners coming up at the end of August, and we're going to be lazing about on a beach. Apparently, this requires an outfit, of the skimpy and spandex variety.
I know I'm a big girl, and I need to lose some weight. That said, I don't have a cascade of body issues - I'm pretty comfortable with who I am and how I look. Enough men have been more than happy to see me naked, and that alleviates the secret fears of being scary and hideous - maybe I am, but I don't know it. The part of me I hate most? My knees. It's ridiculous, I know, but I think I have chubby knees, and regardless of how chubby the rest of me may or may not be, I have never thought my knees were attractive. How knees can be attractive, I don't know, but mine aren't.
However, back to the topic on hand; bathing suits are not flattering unless you're a stick. They're spandex, which may smooth part of you, but leaves the rest to do strange things where the constrictive fabric ends. Very few women are comfortable in a bathing suit. The last time I was in a bathing suit was when I was in Greece, and I was too busy being in lurve to think about what I looked like - I love that about being around someone who you know likes you as you are, you lose your concern about your faults. Anyway, it's been a while, and while I still own that bathing suit, I'm not sure I know where it is, and, well, it's a bikini, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that all over again. So, having waiting until almost August, I'm late to the swimsuit market and dreading it. Thanks be to Jane. She clued me in to MiracleSuits. They are, quite simply, magic. They claim to make you look ten pounds slimmer, and I don't know or care about that, because they are comfortable, and flattering, and I liked how I felt in it. Of course, being a bathing suit, I saw some leg cellulite I hadn't realized was there, and those knees aren't hidden, but a girl can't have everything. Block Island, here I come! Note to self, dig out that old wrap...
As a reward, I went to the book store, where I may have forgotten my promise to live frugally this month in preparation for vacation at the end. Let's view it as cheap entertainment, and leave it at that. Besides, I got a new journal for working on blog posts and such away from the computer. I have a couple of stories and rants in the works, and rather than just working them out in my head, I want to flesh them out and edit them for real. I'll keep you posted - hee!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Things I've learned...
...from my mother:
...from my father:
...from my sister:
...from my brother:
...from Bruce Willis and Michael Ballack:
- Both worry and love transcend distance.
- Pasta sauce doesn't come out of a jar and mac'n'cheese doesn't come out of a box.
...from my father:
- Always keep iced mugs in the freezer. You never know when your beer will need that extra chill.
- "Drink beer, it's cheaper." These wise words were spoken to his 17 year old daughter as he dropped her off for her first year of college - rock on.
...from my sister:
- Uncomfortable shoes are never worth it, no matter what they look like. This is exactly opposite of the lesson she intended.
...from my brother:
- The importance of being exactly who you are.
...from Bruce Willis and Michael Ballack:
- Blood can be HHHot!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Wait for it...
I think I've said before, and I'm sure I'll say again, if Monday doesn't kick my ass, then Tuesday will surely suck. As such, there was trepidation yesterday when I was pretty sure my morning hadn't been rough enough to spare me from future ass-kicking. I was right.
Monday morning I was running late. I thought I'd be in the clear, but looked up at the clock and suddenly, I was late. So I sat down to e-mail some documents pertaining to a Monday morning meeting. I packed up my bag only to discover that the magic crackberry had neglected to turn himself off Sunday night, so the battery was drained - I am officially incommunicado. And late. Junk. I hop on the Metro, watching the clock. I make it out to VA, not in time to stop by my office first, but in time to make it to my client's office for our Monday AM meeting. I show up at his office, and he looks up in surprise to say, "you didn't get the message?" I'm just relieved to be off the Metro in some semblance of a timely manner, so I reassure him that I'm on my way in, it's no big deal, I'll see him in the afternoon, when he's rescheduled. I head over to my office with a detour for a bacon and egg sandwich and find myself thinking, this can't be it. My train ride was fairly smooth, and I would have been on time, so something still needs to go wrong. Wait for it.
The day goes as planned, meetings happen, plans for trivia night go down. Next thing I know it's time to leave the office, and by this time I've forgotten my morning worry that the Universe has not yet fulfilled my Monday dose. I pack up and head out - it'll be a late night, so no laptop, but don't forget that lunch Tupperware. I find my crackberry is charged and yet not turning on, which starts to bring the grumpy as Class Clown is not where I thought I was meeting him, and I have no way of contacting him now. I find him as I head over to meet up with J - not where I expected him, but he managed to fix the crackster, so I find myself still grumpy, but with no clear cause. We link up with J and head down to the Metro, where the full force of grumpy catches up with me as I realize that Tuesday I had a doctor's appointment, so had planned to work from home - that laptop would sure be useful for that! Oh, but I was mad at myself. And yes, I knew it was me I was mad at. It's a four block walk in the heat and a suit back to my office, and we're only just on time to get a table for trivia night, and I feel I can't leave J and Class Clown, as they've only met seconds ago. So I start debating the relative evil of a two hour back and forth in the morning for a couple of hours of work, and then decide that sending the "I'm an idiot" email (and I really did put that in the subject line, but I don't think that surprises you) to my client cohort and supervisor is justified. I want to spend Tuesday morning in my rainbow pants, dammit! I wasn't getting the appropriate amount of compassion from the guys - because who gets grumpy about working at home? - so I went for the quick phone call home for a little motherly sympathy. Um, hello, idiot, your phone batter is dead. It took a good while for me to get out of the funk, and it didn't happen before I told another co-worker to shut up for smiling at me. Thank goodness he just laughed at me.
By the end of the night I was feeling better, my cohort had promised to send the files I needed, and we had the best trivia night performance yet - take that secret nemesis team, we beat you! (Also, when they're score was announced to be less than ours, we cheered and people stared.) But I was exhausted by the turmoil of the day when I got home; good and bad, I was one tired girl.
I still live in fear of Mondays. And my doctor's appointment was canceled.
PS - I saw a shot of myself on the robot show - my ass looks huge. What's the saying? The camera adds twenty pounds?
Monday morning I was running late. I thought I'd be in the clear, but looked up at the clock and suddenly, I was late. So I sat down to e-mail some documents pertaining to a Monday morning meeting. I packed up my bag only to discover that the magic crackberry had neglected to turn himself off Sunday night, so the battery was drained - I am officially incommunicado. And late. Junk. I hop on the Metro, watching the clock. I make it out to VA, not in time to stop by my office first, but in time to make it to my client's office for our Monday AM meeting. I show up at his office, and he looks up in surprise to say, "you didn't get the message?" I'm just relieved to be off the Metro in some semblance of a timely manner, so I reassure him that I'm on my way in, it's no big deal, I'll see him in the afternoon, when he's rescheduled. I head over to my office with a detour for a bacon and egg sandwich and find myself thinking, this can't be it. My train ride was fairly smooth, and I would have been on time, so something still needs to go wrong. Wait for it.
The day goes as planned, meetings happen, plans for trivia night go down. Next thing I know it's time to leave the office, and by this time I've forgotten my morning worry that the Universe has not yet fulfilled my Monday dose. I pack up and head out - it'll be a late night, so no laptop, but don't forget that lunch Tupperware. I find my crackberry is charged and yet not turning on, which starts to bring the grumpy as Class Clown is not where I thought I was meeting him, and I have no way of contacting him now. I find him as I head over to meet up with J - not where I expected him, but he managed to fix the crackster, so I find myself still grumpy, but with no clear cause. We link up with J and head down to the Metro, where the full force of grumpy catches up with me as I realize that Tuesday I had a doctor's appointment, so had planned to work from home - that laptop would sure be useful for that! Oh, but I was mad at myself. And yes, I knew it was me I was mad at. It's a four block walk in the heat and a suit back to my office, and we're only just on time to get a table for trivia night, and I feel I can't leave J and Class Clown, as they've only met seconds ago. So I start debating the relative evil of a two hour back and forth in the morning for a couple of hours of work, and then decide that sending the "I'm an idiot" email (and I really did put that in the subject line, but I don't think that surprises you) to my client cohort and supervisor is justified. I want to spend Tuesday morning in my rainbow pants, dammit! I wasn't getting the appropriate amount of compassion from the guys - because who gets grumpy about working at home? - so I went for the quick phone call home for a little motherly sympathy. Um, hello, idiot, your phone batter is dead. It took a good while for me to get out of the funk, and it didn't happen before I told another co-worker to shut up for smiling at me. Thank goodness he just laughed at me.
By the end of the night I was feeling better, my cohort had promised to send the files I needed, and we had the best trivia night performance yet - take that secret nemesis team, we beat you! (Also, when they're score was announced to be less than ours, we cheered and people stared.) But I was exhausted by the turmoil of the day when I got home; good and bad, I was one tired girl.
I still live in fear of Mondays. And my doctor's appointment was canceled.
PS - I saw a shot of myself on the robot show - my ass looks huge. What's the saying? The camera adds twenty pounds?
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Rainbows.
I don't do well in large stores. I don't like to shop under the best of circumstances, but put me in a department store or all-purpose place like Target, and I pretty quickly go into sensory overload. I don't know why exactly; is it the people who stand too close to look at the same item, the noise, the sheer abundance of choices to make, or the bright colors of all the things you hadn't come to buy? Unclear, but once the meltdown starts there are only two paths. The first is immediate escape, often without whatever it was I had gone in to buy - away from the people, the lights, and all of it. The second option is the overshop. I take too long, meander, and end up with things I don't need and can't always justify. This is what happened to me today when I entered Target to buy two plastic file boxes. That's it, that's all I needed. Suddenly I remembered that I needed new headphones for my iPod. Then I passed an end cap and remembered, I've been meaning to pick up some cd/dvd envelopes. And the grocery store didn't have the face soap I really like, so I'll check to see if it's here. The first season of Arrested Development was only 19$, so into the cart. I found myself strangely drawn to a short-sleeve sweatshirt with a flowery "Cambridge" printed on the front. I've made fun of short-sleeve sweatshirts in my head for months, but this one I could not resist. And pajama pants with rainbows on them.
But really? I needed those. I mean, seriously. Rainbows.
But really? I needed those. I mean, seriously. Rainbows.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Meeting the neighbors...
Tonight I'm a little tipsy from wine and James Bond, but who wouldn't be affected by that combination??
Last night there was a tenants association meeting in my apartment building. My Very Attractive Neighbor was not there. I had been hopeful. I only see him occasionally, though we live on the same hall. I run into him sometimes as he walks his dog.
If I lived in a smaller building maybe I'd know more of my neighbors. There'd be a little old lady with a little nose and a big heart in everybody's business. One day she'd stop me and my Very Attractive Neighbor in the hall with "do you two dears know each other?" There'd be a gleam in her eye. And then we'd chat, and Very Attractive Neighbor would find me very charming. Kittay would learn to love his giant dog and we'd all live happily every after.
I need to move to a smaller building with a nosy little old lady...
Last night there was a tenants association meeting in my apartment building. My Very Attractive Neighbor was not there. I had been hopeful. I only see him occasionally, though we live on the same hall. I run into him sometimes as he walks his dog.
If I lived in a smaller building maybe I'd know more of my neighbors. There'd be a little old lady with a little nose and a big heart in everybody's business. One day she'd stop me and my Very Attractive Neighbor in the hall with "do you two dears know each other?" There'd be a gleam in her eye. And then we'd chat, and Very Attractive Neighbor would find me very charming. Kittay would learn to love his giant dog and we'd all live happily every after.
I need to move to a smaller building with a nosy little old lady...
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
You look good to me.
Once upon a time, a man whom I'd gone round and round with said those words to me. Said those words not with the flippancy you'd first think, but with an earnestness in voice and eye that said it wasn't me, that it was him behind our random walk of flirtation and unreturned phone calls. Kissing in his car while the snow fell outside and then not seeing him for months, it was his issues and hang-ups at work, not mine. I saw this and I smiled. Not being one for gracefully accepting compliments, I probably laughed it off. Deep down, however, I was gratified. Here was a man who smiled when he saw me, thought I was fascinating, and to whom I looked good. Suddenly it didn't matter that we would never get together; it was enough for me to hear those words and know he meant them.
Every woman should have that at least once.
I'm holding out for number two...
Every woman should have that at least once.
I'm holding out for number two...
Insomnia and a milestone
I just realized that I passed the two year blogger mark - the archives are back. I read through them tonight, and it's been a crazy couple of years. I'm finally sleepy, so that's all for tonight.
Monday, July 21, 2008
The Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day
In honor of the "less is more" philosophy of life:
It was so hot and humid this morning that I had to remind myself that I'd chosen to live in this swamp. My neighbor's mulch smelled like poo. I couldn't get on the first two red line trains that pulled into the station. A (male) co-worker told me I looked exhausted. I spent five minutes pressing cool fingers under my eyes - were there bags there? I bolted out of the office realizing I'd just make it to the dry cleaners on time. Forty minutes later I was three Metro stops from my office, and an hour and forty-five minutes later I was above ground in my neighborhood, the dry cleaners long closed, feeling stale, starving, and now, exhausted. I had scowled at a little girl on the train. All told, with a quick trip through CVS for toilet paper and a stop at the neighborhood pizza joint for a slice to eat in the tub, it took me two hours and fifteen minutes to get from my office to my home. The maintenance guy had been in my house; he didn't leave a note, but I have a new drain in my tub. I shrugged, turned on the water, shoved a bite of pizza in my mouth, and proceeded to leave clothes all around the apartment - I'll deal with them tomorrow.
It was so hot and humid this morning that I had to remind myself that I'd chosen to live in this swamp. My neighbor's mulch smelled like poo. I couldn't get on the first two red line trains that pulled into the station. A (male) co-worker told me I looked exhausted. I spent five minutes pressing cool fingers under my eyes - were there bags there? I bolted out of the office realizing I'd just make it to the dry cleaners on time. Forty minutes later I was three Metro stops from my office, and an hour and forty-five minutes later I was above ground in my neighborhood, the dry cleaners long closed, feeling stale, starving, and now, exhausted. I had scowled at a little girl on the train. All told, with a quick trip through CVS for toilet paper and a stop at the neighborhood pizza joint for a slice to eat in the tub, it took me two hours and fifteen minutes to get from my office to my home. The maintenance guy had been in my house; he didn't leave a note, but I have a new drain in my tub. I shrugged, turned on the water, shoved a bite of pizza in my mouth, and proceeded to leave clothes all around the apartment - I'll deal with them tomorrow.
starting the week right.
It's Monday morning and I just did ball sit-ups while listening to McCain steamroll Meredith Viera - yay me, and boo her! That girl should stick to interviewing movie stars.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
archives...
This picture is titled, "what happens when I'm not around," but it works as an illustration of my Sunday, as well. Because I read, napped, and cuddled with Kittay all day long. She followed me to every new spot - nestled under my shoulder as I sprawled on my stomach on the bed, climbed onto my belly when I was curled on the loveseat with my feet in the air, and camped out on my lap while I read in a chair. It's been a pretty great Sunday, if only those boys had called back - a quick run for milk and I'd have made breakfast as usual, but one's notorious for not calling back.I found a new blog to read - I sort of stumbled upon it in a random bout of internet surfing, and when a new blog is discovered I find myself going back, back through the archives, reading a history online, getting to know someone I don't know at all. This girl with a cat lived in Boston when I did, and lives in cities and dates boys, and tells stories about it all. I loved reading about how our lives overlapped.
It made me think about my own online history. I recently took down my archives on the old site that stopped working (see googlestinks). There was quite a bit on the old pages about the "awful situation", and on the off chance the wrong someone stumbled upon it, I took it down. Part of this comes from a desire to spread the word a little more about this site, without causing a rehash of all of the bad that I (truly) find myself not angry about anymore. I'd taken down the old pages, with all of the Boston, Janemyjane, and boy stories that I love, and a big chunk of personal growth through not-so-anonymous sharing. Of course, with the change from one venue to another, I don't know how much traffic those pages would get, or if it just makes a difference to me to know that those stories are still out there. It's not like I'm big in the blogosphere, so there aren't many random visitors who stop to read through my archives, hoping to get to know me without every having to meet me. Having gotten into the habit of blogging, however, my archives feel like a piece of me.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
decadence is...
Decadence is getting out of the bathtub in order to refill your wine glass, and then climbing back into the tub. Is it excess to make a sandwich for the tub after a zoo-shift when your hungry? Decadence is puckered toes on a Saturday night. Decadence is knowing that your going to spend your 30th birthday with your very best friend. I don't care where we go, my friend, I just want to be with you.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Happy Home Dance
I'm working from home today, for the second time this week. As I almost called in sick yesterday, it was a near thing to spending more time at home than the office. A near thing. I wasn't truly sick; I got a nosebleed yesterday morning in the shower. The last time this happened was in Boston, where I actually got them not frequently, but not infrequently, either. They were usually accompanied by dizzy spells, one so bad I couldn't get out of bed for hours. I went to the doctor (read, stupid college health clinic where they treat grad students and 18 year olds alike - as in the same). They took my blood pressure, and while on the low side, it wasn't dangerously low, so I was told that all was well. They sent me home. Now I have a real job and real, grown-up insurance, and yet, I have not been to any doctor in over a year. So I've made a list of doctors and priorities, and today I'm calling to make an appointment.
But working from home has advantages beyond the fact that I am wearing gym shorts and not wearing a bra. I'm also listening to music out loud - loud! And more than just dancing on my chair (which is now a ball in the office - dancing is both easier and more dangerous) I can get up and shake it like a Polaroid! I decided this morning that it's time to reinstate the Happy Home Dance. In Boston, when I first moved into my very own tiny studio I would come home from work, kick off my shoes, pick a song, push play, and spend my first five minutes jumping, shimmying, swaying, and occasionally, flailing. It wasn't that I didn't love my roommate, but it was so great to know that I was in a domain that was totally mine, and no one would intrude, laugh, or be shocked at anything I did. And so I danced with abandon.
When I moved here I spent time after work either suffering from heat exhaustion (a/c didn't join me in this apartment until this summer, and last September was HHHOT!) or unpacking and organizing. Not to mention the fact that I now have to get out of work clothes before the sweat from the walk home has rendered them unwearable for another day. Somehow the Happy Home Dance slipped from my routine. As I rediscovered an old favorite cd and song this morning (Starlight in Daden by Ekova on the Traveler '00 album) I found myself jumping. And shimmying. And flailing. And the Happy Home Dance has been reinstated.
But working from home has advantages beyond the fact that I am wearing gym shorts and not wearing a bra. I'm also listening to music out loud - loud! And more than just dancing on my chair (which is now a ball in the office - dancing is both easier and more dangerous) I can get up and shake it like a Polaroid! I decided this morning that it's time to reinstate the Happy Home Dance. In Boston, when I first moved into my very own tiny studio I would come home from work, kick off my shoes, pick a song, push play, and spend my first five minutes jumping, shimmying, swaying, and occasionally, flailing. It wasn't that I didn't love my roommate, but it was so great to know that I was in a domain that was totally mine, and no one would intrude, laugh, or be shocked at anything I did. And so I danced with abandon.
When I moved here I spent time after work either suffering from heat exhaustion (a/c didn't join me in this apartment until this summer, and last September was HHHOT!) or unpacking and organizing. Not to mention the fact that I now have to get out of work clothes before the sweat from the walk home has rendered them unwearable for another day. Somehow the Happy Home Dance slipped from my routine. As I rediscovered an old favorite cd and song this morning (Starlight in Daden by Ekova on the Traveler '00 album) I found myself jumping. And shimmying. And flailing. And the Happy Home Dance has been reinstated.
Monday, July 14, 2008
cars, cable, and memories
I called the cable company this morning to add on to my current package. The guy on the phone said, "now, for six months you either get a discount or a movie channel free..." I don't care about the movie channels, dude, I want the Science Channel!!! I got it specifically for the opportunity to watch the Discovery documentary on the Urban Challenge - Astrowahoo might be on tv!
But as I sit here waiting for Robocars! to come on, I find myself fascinated by learning how they make electric razors, and how the shipping industry works - they're showing us how Peterbilt big rigs are made, and showing the living cabin in the back. I have a sudden flashback to a hot day and a broken down car on the side of the road. Momola and two little girls with a mile to go before the next exit and a car that's not going anywhere. So we started walking. An eighteen wheeler pulled over, and as no one would consider today, we climbed in. My sister and I bounced on the cot in the back as we were driven up the road to the nearest gas station, where we called for a tow and a ride. It was a different time.
Anyway, I had plans to kill this additional cable when the episodes of this documentary where over, but my goodness are these shows cool! I'm fascinated by "How Do They Do It?" and did you know that on GreenPlanet Emeril now has a "green" cooking show?? Ok, we're almost halfway through the first episode of Robocars! and it's so exciting - funny to see people I know on tv, but they've done a great job with the show, and I'm having a great time watching the teams gearing up for the race! It's going to be a couple of episodes, I think, before any glimpse of me will be on, I'll keep you posted.
But as I sit here waiting for Robocars! to come on, I find myself fascinated by learning how they make electric razors, and how the shipping industry works - they're showing us how Peterbilt big rigs are made, and showing the living cabin in the back. I have a sudden flashback to a hot day and a broken down car on the side of the road. Momola and two little girls with a mile to go before the next exit and a car that's not going anywhere. So we started walking. An eighteen wheeler pulled over, and as no one would consider today, we climbed in. My sister and I bounced on the cot in the back as we were driven up the road to the nearest gas station, where we called for a tow and a ride. It was a different time.
Anyway, I had plans to kill this additional cable when the episodes of this documentary where over, but my goodness are these shows cool! I'm fascinated by "How Do They Do It?" and did you know that on GreenPlanet Emeril now has a "green" cooking show?? Ok, we're almost halfway through the first episode of Robocars! and it's so exciting - funny to see people I know on tv, but they've done a great job with the show, and I'm having a great time watching the teams gearing up for the race! It's going to be a couple of episodes, I think, before any glimpse of me will be on, I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
projects.
Friday night I was invited to a picnic at the zoo - they threw a bash with which to appreciate their volunteers. It was quite the event and a very good time, even if it was humid and sticky out. I like my fellow volunteers, and we don't see each other when we're actually on the job, so these things are always fun. There's a meeting on Tuesday of this week, which involves a short lecture on an animal-related topic, so I'm excited.
After a lovely brunch with the boys - I am quite the little homemaker! - Momola came into the city to help me hand the pictures that have been in boxes for the last... ten months. I'm down to a small pile of boxes in the office that remain to be unpacked - it's books for which I have no bookcase and papers for which I have no file cabinet. I'm making a prioritized list of things I need:
1. vacuum cleaner
2. file cabinet
3. headboard for bed
4. bookshelves (at least two required for books I own, without consideration for books I've yet to buy)
5. nightstands
6. dresser
The order of those last two is negotiable, and all of this waits for two things: my impending Block Island trip with Neeners and Janemyjane that ends with half a week in Boston (hello Washington Square Tavern and Liquid Hair Salon!), and... a vacation with Momola to Martha's Vineyard!!
That's right, two amazing things happened at work this week. First, a proposal I submitted to do some extra work (!) resulted in extra work, but comes with a bonus, so is hard to argue with! Second, Lady and I gave a monetary donation to a girl who's about to spend the next year and so living out of a van (down by the river? not quite) traveling and volunteering - she had a raffle for thsoe who donated, and we won a place to stay on Martha's Vineyard! What's even better, Momola's initial reaction was, "I can't take vacation, you go..." but I talked her out of it and we're headed off for some mother-daughter bonding time, with the possible addition of her best friend (she of "blue sparkling hell" fame) and maybe Janemyjane and Neeners?? The details are far from even being fuzzy, but Lady has agreed to go, and I'm so excited!
Anyway, I'm planning a work-at-home day for Tuesday, and have a plan to take some pictures of the newly decorated place, that way you guys can see my lovely, almost-furnished home!
After a lovely brunch with the boys - I am quite the little homemaker! - Momola came into the city to help me hand the pictures that have been in boxes for the last... ten months. I'm down to a small pile of boxes in the office that remain to be unpacked - it's books for which I have no bookcase and papers for which I have no file cabinet. I'm making a prioritized list of things I need:
1. vacuum cleaner
2. file cabinet
3. headboard for bed
4. bookshelves (at least two required for books I own, without consideration for books I've yet to buy)
5. nightstands
6. dresser
The order of those last two is negotiable, and all of this waits for two things: my impending Block Island trip with Neeners and Janemyjane that ends with half a week in Boston (hello Washington Square Tavern and Liquid Hair Salon!), and... a vacation with Momola to Martha's Vineyard!!
That's right, two amazing things happened at work this week. First, a proposal I submitted to do some extra work (!) resulted in extra work, but comes with a bonus, so is hard to argue with! Second, Lady and I gave a monetary donation to a girl who's about to spend the next year and so living out of a van (down by the river? not quite) traveling and volunteering - she had a raffle for thsoe who donated, and we won a place to stay on Martha's Vineyard! What's even better, Momola's initial reaction was, "I can't take vacation, you go..." but I talked her out of it and we're headed off for some mother-daughter bonding time, with the possible addition of her best friend (she of "blue sparkling hell" fame) and maybe Janemyjane and Neeners?? The details are far from even being fuzzy, but Lady has agreed to go, and I'm so excited!
Anyway, I'm planning a work-at-home day for Tuesday, and have a plan to take some pictures of the newly decorated place, that way you guys can see my lovely, almost-furnished home!
Sunday morning activity.
Sleep this weekend has been abnormal. Friday night I was in bed at 10:45pm, counting on an early(ish) morning wake-up. At 9:45am, when my bleary eyes opened, it was already hot outside. So I lazed, doing work around the house until I had no choice but to brave the heat for a run to the market. Then I was awake until almost 2am, with no droopy eyes, and yet, at 6:45am this morning my eyes were once again open. So...
I went for a Sunday morning run! I mapped out a circle in my neighborhood, rolled my iPod dial to Timbaland (oh, Timbaland, where you gonna run to?) and headed off - I even included the hill down the block, which, it turns out, is much bigger than I thought. I'm not going to discuss length of run or time it took me, but I will say that it was better than I thought - back when I was running 5 or so miles at a go a couple of times a week I was never much better than a 9 minute mile (hey, I've got short legs!) and while not by a long shot at that, I'm not as slow as I feared. And I ran the whole way, no walking. What's that you say? You saw me and walking would have been faster? If you're talking about the time spent on my ribcage on the sidewalk when I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, well, fine. But if you're talking about the rest of the time, then just shut up. Sheesh.
I went for a Sunday morning run! I mapped out a circle in my neighborhood, rolled my iPod dial to Timbaland (oh, Timbaland, where you gonna run to?) and headed off - I even included the hill down the block, which, it turns out, is much bigger than I thought. I'm not going to discuss length of run or time it took me, but I will say that it was better than I thought - back when I was running 5 or so miles at a go a couple of times a week I was never much better than a 9 minute mile (hey, I've got short legs!) and while not by a long shot at that, I'm not as slow as I feared. And I ran the whole way, no walking. What's that you say? You saw me and walking would have been faster? If you're talking about the time spent on my ribcage on the sidewalk when I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, well, fine. But if you're talking about the rest of the time, then just shut up. Sheesh.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Humiliation Motivation and Dragon Slaying
I sent my old personal trainer back in Boston a message telling her how cute her niece was, and mentioned that I’d be back in Beantown in August. I told her I missed my lovely all-women gym and had canceled my gym membership down here because Gold's Gym was disgusting and dirty. So she wrote me back and said I'd get a pass when I was up there and visit her at the gym. Great... I mean, Phyllis once had me in the best shape of my life, and I love Healthworks and working out with her, but she used to make me run stairs, and I don't want to think about what I'd look like trying to run stairs now - I'm pretty sure crawling doesn't look like running. There are lots of excuses, until recently there hasn't been a gym near my home and I hated the gym near my work. I am busy and often out in the evenings, and when I am home, I'm tired. It is too damn hot to breathe outside here in the swampland that is DC. But it all comes down to this - I don't want Phyllis to see me trying to work out in the shape I'm in (or not in) right now. So knowing that I will work out with her at the end of August has me motivated - I've got exercise tubing and it's light outside when I get home and my apartment building has stairs, five flights of them. So I'm going to start working out to prepare for working out - how's that, Phyl? You think I'm kidding, but I stopped at Target on the way home to get an exercise ball so that I could do those ridiculously hard pikes and push-ups and maybe even some ab work. (Actually, I bought two balls - one is about to become my chair at work, so I can do my core work at my desk! And I can't wait to practice feet up balancing as a quick break at the office!)
So the trip to Target actually resulted in a whole new reason to post - bugs. Specifically giant creatures that live in warehouses in then hide in cardboard boxes. I've had a few cockroaches in the kitchen, and it's hard knowing that it's not about wiping down the counter tops more often, but more about the fact that Washington DC was built on a swamp! I've got bay leaves scattered in every cabinet and for the most part, we're ok. But the apartment building has a problem with your average run-of-the-mill bugs. This evening I unpacked the home exercise ball, and then went into the kitchen to make sausage balls for a potluck lunch at work tomorrow. I came out to listen to something Rachel Maddow was saying on Countdown (PS - I don't like when she's substituting for Keith Olbermann) when a scurry by my foot made me scream bloody murder. On a side note, if ever killed in my apartment, my neighbors won't call the cops, they'll just go about their business. If that's not enough to trigger a Bridget Jones-eque fear of dying at home with no one to notice but the pack of wild dogs, I don't know what is. Back to the scurry. The biggest cockroach I have ever seen was scuttling around my floor. While I screamed it made it's way down the hall, tucking along the wall so I couldn't quite tell (it was moving fast) if it ducked into my giant storage closet or went into my bedroom. I knew there would be a night spent with every light in the apartment on if I didn't commence the hunt right then. I knew this because in Arizona the appearance of a palmetto bug (think forearm sized remnant of the Jurassic period), followed by the inexplicable disappearance when I went to get a bowl or pot to throw over the creature, once chased me out into the night and over to a boy's house. Say what you will about my slutty behavior, that monster was scary. So tonight, with no escape plan and a scared kittay, I gathered up the Glamour magazine that has mysteriously begun showing up in my mail and headed down the hall. Luckily, my entrance into the bedroom dislodged the roach from its spot by the door and it started to head for under the bed - time to act, as I was not up to getting down on my knees to reach under the bed to try to swat this thing. I landed a solid blow with the magazine and hoped I hit the target. I did - hurrah! I prematurely threw the magazine away and got a broom and dustpan to scoop the roach into the toilet. It twitched and while on its back tried to move away from me, so a couple of hits with the broom were necessary, but at last, the bug was dead and flushed down the toilet. However, this thing was bigger than my thumb, and the final deathblows required a closer examination of the thing than I would have liked. Result, I won't be eating grasshoppers again, watching the leg twitch was too much. I took all offending packaging from the exercise ball immediately down to the recycling room in the basement. I also took the Target shopping bag that still contained the ball for the office. I opened that box and discarded it down there in the basement. I'm not saying every Target box contains a giant bug, but I wasn't taking any chances. Also, there are fewer bugs in Boston.
So the trip to Target actually resulted in a whole new reason to post - bugs. Specifically giant creatures that live in warehouses in then hide in cardboard boxes. I've had a few cockroaches in the kitchen, and it's hard knowing that it's not about wiping down the counter tops more often, but more about the fact that Washington DC was built on a swamp! I've got bay leaves scattered in every cabinet and for the most part, we're ok. But the apartment building has a problem with your average run-of-the-mill bugs. This evening I unpacked the home exercise ball, and then went into the kitchen to make sausage balls for a potluck lunch at work tomorrow. I came out to listen to something Rachel Maddow was saying on Countdown (PS - I don't like when she's substituting for Keith Olbermann) when a scurry by my foot made me scream bloody murder. On a side note, if ever killed in my apartment, my neighbors won't call the cops, they'll just go about their business. If that's not enough to trigger a Bridget Jones-eque fear of dying at home with no one to notice but the pack of wild dogs, I don't know what is. Back to the scurry. The biggest cockroach I have ever seen was scuttling around my floor. While I screamed it made it's way down the hall, tucking along the wall so I couldn't quite tell (it was moving fast) if it ducked into my giant storage closet or went into my bedroom. I knew there would be a night spent with every light in the apartment on if I didn't commence the hunt right then. I knew this because in Arizona the appearance of a palmetto bug (think forearm sized remnant of the Jurassic period), followed by the inexplicable disappearance when I went to get a bowl or pot to throw over the creature, once chased me out into the night and over to a boy's house. Say what you will about my slutty behavior, that monster was scary. So tonight, with no escape plan and a scared kittay, I gathered up the Glamour magazine that has mysteriously begun showing up in my mail and headed down the hall. Luckily, my entrance into the bedroom dislodged the roach from its spot by the door and it started to head for under the bed - time to act, as I was not up to getting down on my knees to reach under the bed to try to swat this thing. I landed a solid blow with the magazine and hoped I hit the target. I did - hurrah! I prematurely threw the magazine away and got a broom and dustpan to scoop the roach into the toilet. It twitched and while on its back tried to move away from me, so a couple of hits with the broom were necessary, but at last, the bug was dead and flushed down the toilet. However, this thing was bigger than my thumb, and the final deathblows required a closer examination of the thing than I would have liked. Result, I won't be eating grasshoppers again, watching the leg twitch was too much. I took all offending packaging from the exercise ball immediately down to the recycling room in the basement. I also took the Target shopping bag that still contained the ball for the office. I opened that box and discarded it down there in the basement. I'm not saying every Target box contains a giant bug, but I wasn't taking any chances. Also, there are fewer bugs in Boston.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
DC beats Boston on the 4th of July.
Argh. I started this post and then there was an error and Mozilla had to shut down, which means I lost what I typed. What junk. I was starting to tell the story of my do-nothing weekend. It sounds boring, but I was being pretty funny, so you'll have to tell me if I successfully re-create it. I'm doubtful.
There were a couple of ridiculously stressful weeks at work. It was so crazy I couldn't even take joy in saying, "I told you so." when my client admitted that he shouldn't ever say, "things will be less crazy after..." because things are never less crazy. This past week wasn't the race of constant deadlines, but I was tired from the weeks before and spent my time taking care of all the small things I pushed off while fighting more urgent fires. I had some thoughts of summertime in academia, lunches at the BU pub (two hot dogs for a dollar when you buy a beer!) out in the sunshine. That's nostalgia, not wishful thinking, by the way. Besides, down here it's too damn hot to stop and eat your lunch outside.
All this humidity has me in a bad place. It's sticky even when it's not sweltering outside, and when it is, I'm miserable. I used the phrase "hotter than blue sparkling hell" the other day, and it caused a good laugh among the co-workers. Momola's best friend says that a lot, and the goal of the past couple years has been to find the drink that can truly be christened "Blue Sparkling Hell." I just had a thought on that front, actually, so I'll keep you posted.
Anyway, with crazy work weeks and crazier weekends (I was out in the 'burbs both of the last two weekends and my calendar was jampacked for both of them) I ended this week - no I started this week, but it just carried through - exhausted. I left work on Thursday and had to force myself to go to the grocery store if only to prevent the necessity of having to go Friday during the day. My entire goal this weekend was recovery, and to accomplish that I planned to do as close to absolutely nothing as I could manage. I pretty much succeeded, and I'm here on Sunday night telling you that it was wonderful! I sat and read a book (Sleeping Dogs, by Thomas Perry - thrilling!) and watched some bad movies on tv (Blade is worse than I remember it being) and played some Samurai Sudoku online (man, that is an addictive logic game!). I did leave the house Friday night for the fireworks. I walked over to my friend Billy's house to stand on his roof deck in the drizzle waiting for the fireworks to start, and catching up with the boys I don't see often enough. We had a view of the Washington Monument, and in the mist the city lines were softened. It was like looking at a watercolor of the world. The fireworks had me impressed by the view, though someone had just said, "it's weird when you can't hear them" when from behind me I hear, "boom!" and there were a number of pops that followed - it was fireworks in the park in our neighborhood, and there more in the distance. So it was fireworks on all sides, including some folks on the street shooting off rockets that had to have been illegal, but were fun to see, nonetheless. The verdict? DC beats Boston on the 4th of July. I've always loved the Boston fireworks, but T-ing it down to the top of my office building, and facing a long walk or a crowded T ride back home, with fireworks that sold out last year to include commercial breaks for ABC (sell outs, it's worth repeating) just isn't the same as seeing not only the large scale show of a major city, but being surrounded by explosions of color and celebration - all in the comfort of your own little neighborhood. That's brilliant. And roof decks? I've not fully appreciated them in the past. It's easily ten degrees cooler when you're four floors up, and there's a breeze up there that doesn't ever touch the ground. It was lovely up there, and as I walked home later and marvelled at the moisture in the air that made foggy and fuzzy at the end of the block, I promised myself that I would have a roof deck some day soon.
The rest of my weekend? Fulfilled all my weekend dreams. I volunteered at the zoo on Saturday - the gorillas were in fine form and not only visible, but fairly active. There was lots of posturing and interactions, and that's always fun to discuss with visitors. This morning was breakfast with the boys - Christopher and Dirty Matt only, because Christopher left Jason at home to deal with the cable guy. I summoned the energy to do some laundry and a little work, but the highlight of my day involved a strawberry-banana milkshake when I broke out the milkshake maker. It's been a good day, a good weekend, and I'm a rested and happy girl. Hope you all had a good 4th of July - go Sox!
There were a couple of ridiculously stressful weeks at work. It was so crazy I couldn't even take joy in saying, "I told you so." when my client admitted that he shouldn't ever say, "things will be less crazy after..." because things are never less crazy. This past week wasn't the race of constant deadlines, but I was tired from the weeks before and spent my time taking care of all the small things I pushed off while fighting more urgent fires. I had some thoughts of summertime in academia, lunches at the BU pub (two hot dogs for a dollar when you buy a beer!) out in the sunshine. That's nostalgia, not wishful thinking, by the way. Besides, down here it's too damn hot to stop and eat your lunch outside.
All this humidity has me in a bad place. It's sticky even when it's not sweltering outside, and when it is, I'm miserable. I used the phrase "hotter than blue sparkling hell" the other day, and it caused a good laugh among the co-workers. Momola's best friend says that a lot, and the goal of the past couple years has been to find the drink that can truly be christened "Blue Sparkling Hell." I just had a thought on that front, actually, so I'll keep you posted.
Anyway, with crazy work weeks and crazier weekends (I was out in the 'burbs both of the last two weekends and my calendar was jampacked for both of them) I ended this week - no I started this week, but it just carried through - exhausted. I left work on Thursday and had to force myself to go to the grocery store if only to prevent the necessity of having to go Friday during the day. My entire goal this weekend was recovery, and to accomplish that I planned to do as close to absolutely nothing as I could manage. I pretty much succeeded, and I'm here on Sunday night telling you that it was wonderful! I sat and read a book (Sleeping Dogs, by Thomas Perry - thrilling!) and watched some bad movies on tv (Blade is worse than I remember it being) and played some Samurai Sudoku online (man, that is an addictive logic game!). I did leave the house Friday night for the fireworks. I walked over to my friend Billy's house to stand on his roof deck in the drizzle waiting for the fireworks to start, and catching up with the boys I don't see often enough. We had a view of the Washington Monument, and in the mist the city lines were softened. It was like looking at a watercolor of the world. The fireworks had me impressed by the view, though someone had just said, "it's weird when you can't hear them" when from behind me I hear, "boom!" and there were a number of pops that followed - it was fireworks in the park in our neighborhood, and there more in the distance. So it was fireworks on all sides, including some folks on the street shooting off rockets that had to have been illegal, but were fun to see, nonetheless. The verdict? DC beats Boston on the 4th of July. I've always loved the Boston fireworks, but T-ing it down to the top of my office building, and facing a long walk or a crowded T ride back home, with fireworks that sold out last year to include commercial breaks for ABC (sell outs, it's worth repeating) just isn't the same as seeing not only the large scale show of a major city, but being surrounded by explosions of color and celebration - all in the comfort of your own little neighborhood. That's brilliant. And roof decks? I've not fully appreciated them in the past. It's easily ten degrees cooler when you're four floors up, and there's a breeze up there that doesn't ever touch the ground. It was lovely up there, and as I walked home later and marvelled at the moisture in the air that made foggy and fuzzy at the end of the block, I promised myself that I would have a roof deck some day soon.
The rest of my weekend? Fulfilled all my weekend dreams. I volunteered at the zoo on Saturday - the gorillas were in fine form and not only visible, but fairly active. There was lots of posturing and interactions, and that's always fun to discuss with visitors. This morning was breakfast with the boys - Christopher and Dirty Matt only, because Christopher left Jason at home to deal with the cable guy. I summoned the energy to do some laundry and a little work, but the highlight of my day involved a strawberry-banana milkshake when I broke out the milkshake maker. It's been a good day, a good weekend, and I'm a rested and happy girl. Hope you all had a good 4th of July - go Sox!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Gramola and Grumpa!
The folks flew down to Florida today - they are visiting the Dumpster, and already loving it! Here's a picture of Grumpa playing with that baby while Gramola took a nap.
That little boy looks pretty happy. Right now Meredith and Daddo are at a Red Sox game, while Momola watches (and spoils) the Dumpster. I'm jealous, but I sit here with a cuddly cat on my lap and watch the 2006 BBC version of Jane Eyre, and I'm content. It's been a long week, productive, but long, and I'll be glad when tomorrow is over. I've promised myself a quiet weekend, and I can't wait. Anyway, today hasn't left me with much excitement to share, but this picture made me smile, and I thought you would like to see the little boy who recently learned to say, "Auntie!"
That little boy looks pretty happy. Right now Meredith and Daddo are at a Red Sox game, while Momola watches (and spoils) the Dumpster. I'm jealous, but I sit here with a cuddly cat on my lap and watch the 2006 BBC version of Jane Eyre, and I'm content. It's been a long week, productive, but long, and I'll be glad when tomorrow is over. I've promised myself a quiet weekend, and I can't wait. Anyway, today hasn't left me with much excitement to share, but this picture made me smile, and I thought you would like to see the little boy who recently learned to say, "Auntie!"
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