positive thoughts

My dad has many interesting traits, and one of them is his insistence on semantics.

For example, should I happen to utter the words "If I..."

Immediately I am interrupted by my father saying "Not if. When."

"Okay, okay WHEN I..." Inevitably I respond.

One of many examples of how my father taught me the importance of words, and how what is spoken can change how you act, how you think. Thus here I stand, firm in the belief that I can do or be whatever I want.

He wasn't like this with just my siblings and myself; this is part of who he is.

A favorite anecdote I like to recall of his entails this positive thought. My parent's church, the parish I grew up with, started having an annual carnival a few years back to raise funds.

Every year they would pray for no rain, no bad weather. Every year it rained.

Until my dad suggested they stop praying for the bad things, because all those people thinking of the rain inevitably made it a reality. Therefore the church began to pray for sun and good weather.

It has been sunny every year since.

Believe in prayer, believe in the power of positive thinking, or believe in coincidence. Whatever you believe, this ideology is now in a bestselling book, The Secret. My company publishes this book, and they distributed free copies to all of us to celebrate its success. So I sat down today and started to read, shocked by the familiarity of the message.

Too bad my dad didn't go and write it first.

dancing queen

Occasionally I have noticed the "no dancing allowed" signs in bars. Once or twice I have been told to stop shaking my groove thing.

Seems the courts are keeping the status quo.

So sad the city makes extra green from the white man overbite, isn't it?

pickup lines

All you people need to know is that I attempted to pick up a guy using the NY Comic Con.

Just in case you ever doubted my geek love. Heh.

35

Yup, seems I've gone and gotten older again. Wooooeeeee.

It took me two years to get over turning thirty. The year leading up and the year after. Once I did become accustomed to it, age kind of didn't matter any more.

When Spaghetti turned 35 she had a hard time with it. Seems it was her 'turning point' age. I asked her, but she could never explain the significance of that year.

I don't know, maybe it is because I look young and can act young that age doesn't bug me so much. (Not that Spaghetti looks or acts any older than myself; I just know firsthand that I get verbal reinforcement all the time to set my mind at ease.) Or maybe that my health is so kooky that I don't feel intimidated by what may come.

Maybe it is because my dream in life was to live in NYC, and I have already accomplished that. Every morning I leave my apartment and look at the skyline, thinking, "this is awesome".

Honestly, I think that acceptance of aging comes with taking stock. Many things that most people measure their lives with never held any weight with me.

Marriage, children, money. I don't care.

Friends, adventures, knowledge. These are the things I hold stock in.

As for goals in the upcoming year, I am at a loss. RFW aptly pointed out my indecision about potentially running the marathon this year as being due to my need to have goals. I am a goal-oriented person, and if I can't find a new one than another 26.2 will do. So how about I make taking the GRE one? Why not?

And maybe picking my next direction. Once I chose a path then life is in motion again...regardless of the destination.

if I went missing

While visiting Seattle Girl my sister said that if I just didn't show up to work one day no one would notice.

No one would notice that I was gone.

It was after drinking quite a few beers, and the words that she uttered were not the ones that she intended. But I reacted to what I heard and got upset.

Because the idea that no one would notice is just terrible. At least for me.

I pull away from people often. Separate, create distance. A lot I think is because I assume it will end at some point, so at least take control of it. But I wonder if some of it isn't so I can be missed.

Honestly, we are all replaceable. We are only really remembered for three generations, then we as individuals fade.

So I practice. Not consciously, not that I mean to. But as my friends change I let them drift - drift to new careers, as part of a couple, to different cities, to new lives. I accept the distance as part of their growth as well as part of my own, each of our lives having become richer from our mutual experiences.

Really, I practice being missed all the time.

You have to understand, my sister had just realized that she had another brain tumor, away from her fiancé in a strange town, and was reacting to that. The whole mortality thing was getting to her, and she was acting out whatever she was going through at the time with me. In the moment I had no idea of course. Now it makes sense.

We all measure our presence in different ways. Some people with job accomplishments, some through raising children, some from money, some from fame. I suppose I look for mine through impact...and the best way to metric that is to notice the sense of loss upon removal. Kind of like measuring the mass of something by displacement in a pool of water.

Re-reading what I wrote above I would like to make clear that I'm totally not dying or suicidal or anything. Just had seen the latest episode of grey's anatomy that reminded me of this thought process I had gone through previously.

And yes, I know people would notice. That has never been an issue for me. :)

perspective

Honestly, that news yesterday about my ex getting engaged threw me for a loop. For half a minute.

Why?

It has been over six years since we broke up. I was totally fine being single on Valentine's Day just minutes earlier. Now I'm angry.

Why?

What is the point of telling me on this of all days? There are four days you should not tell an ex about your new engagement - New Years, Christmas, your birthday, and Valentine's. No matter what it is going to be hard to hear, but why aggravate the situation? Now I'm sad.

Why?

How am I not with someone yet? What is wrong with me, can't I fall in love again? Did I give up having love in my life by leaving Michigan? Now I'm alone.

Why?

Why does hearing this news matter? I CHOSE New York. I CHOSE to have this amazing life, to prove myself in the publishing world, to run a marathon, to have a fantastic set of friends and incredible adventures. I CHOSE to put dating at the bottom of my list of priorities.

Why?

Because that is who I am. And I am a rockstar...who's path is all her own.

floored

Okay, I just got an email from the Michigan Ex that he is getting married this summer. Pretty much the email said grad school is hard and oh, hey, I'm getting married!

On Valentine's Day. He emailed me on valentine's day to tell me he is engaged.

Seriously, WTF????

valentine's

Eh.

Whatever.

That about sums it up. :)

denial

In my email inbox today I received the official notification that I am eligible to enter the 2007 ING NYC Marathon.

Why in gods name am I actually considering it? All that pain, all that work and time and effort, what is it that makes you want to do it again?

Maybe it is disbelief that I did it the first time. Maybe it is a drive to increase my speed. Maybe it is an addiction to the glory. I don't know.

Look at Lance Armstrong, he said it was the hardest thing he has ever done in his life, and he wants to do it again.

I have several months to keep this urge in limbo. Try to come back to my senses and be a spectator not a participator.

But it is tempting to sign up. Aaaaaaaaargh!!

another one already?

Last night was a cool chill kinda girls night out.

Spaghetti, RFW, and I saw the 4:20 show of Dreamgirls (good), had dinner at an awesome little italian joint in Chelsea, then went out for a pint or two afterwards at a nearby pub.

I got home after three am. Where in heaven's name does the time go?

And to end the evening I got asked out by the bartender. The date is Monday night.

Is there something in the air or something? Where is all this dating activity coming from?

Of course on retrospect should I really be surprised at seeing two new guys within two months? I've never been much of a dater, I wonder what the range of normal dating frequency is. Not that I ever put much stock in being normal.

media love

Okay, you already know of my pajiba love, but this post seals it.

I dare you.

No...

I TRIPLE DOG DARE YOU

To get through the whole thing, clips and all, with no tears.

Go.

gym adventures

At the ripe old age of 18 I signed on for a lifetime membership to a gym. Who knew I was so wise at so young of an age?

Luckily for me this same gym has locations in NYC. So I've been keeping up with my dues the past few years, which came in pretty darn handy training for the marathon and all.

You see all kinds of characters come in and out of the gym. There are the regulars for your time slot, and of course the visitors. Visitors being the ones who join and show up for a month, but that is about all.

Last night I went to step on the scale at the gym at the same time as an elderly Asian woman. Whom I have never seen at the gym before.

We did the whole - you first - no you first - dance. She got on and tsk tsked her weight. She was probably 20 years my senior, two inches my inferior, and for sure 15 lbs. lighter.

When I got off she stood next to the scale. No, that is not normal behavior.

Then as I weighed myself, she chuckled and said, "Oooh! You are so fat! Ha ha ha!"

....

Yes, really.

THEN as I walked off to hit the showers, she followed and kept talking. About what I have no idea, I just wanted to get away from the crazy insulting Asian lady.

Okay, don't get me wrong, honestly I don't think she meant to be as rude as she seemed. From her manner it seems more of a language/culture thing, like it was totally okay for her to say.

All the same, pure irony, all I could think was "thank god this woman wasn't my mother." One thing my mom has to her credit, she always tried to be subtle in her...suggestions.

"You are so fat! Ha ha ha!"

Dude. Seriously.

google love

Just gotta say, if you google:

"bridget nyc marathon"

I come up first.

AWESOME.

roseville

I grew up in a blue-collar town. I'm proud of many things, including:

That one neighbor kept his car on cinder blocks on his front lawn.

That we learned to play softball on a gravel field.

That my first job at 13 was to be a scorekeeper for recreational softball - 20 somethings swingin and drinkin, talkin; too close to the young thang that I was

That it was not abnormal that I had a job at 13 or that drunk men were around me

That the best job you could hope for was a steady paying one (welcome to the motor city)

That we played volleyball over a chain link fence on tarmac. Yes, a four-foot fence, but it was something to play over.

That one neighbor took in six foster kids in a three-bedroom house. And it was good, not predatory.

That one of my good friends (first people to help corrupt a good catholic girl) had and still has a brother in local government...who is way more lecherous than his brother my corrupter ever was (Hi shoemaker family!!)

That it was never abnormal to have a second job. Or work full time while going to school full time.

That any job was a good job, because it paid.

That my first friend to get pregnant was 14. And kept it. (Now that kid is 20...me with a kid that age, just think here)

That growing up I was surrounded every day by hardworking people who struggled every day for their existence. And who enjoyed life to the fullest. They didn't bitch or moan because they didn't get the latest vista upgrade. They bitched about a boss that was unfair and a wage that was cruel. They had every right.

But they let go of that shit damn quick; because they known life is short and you goddamn well better appreciate what you have.

Every day I have here is a gift. I don't forget.

movie love

Did you see Shaun of the Dead?

Well? Didja?

By god if you you didn't love em just walk away now.

Really.

If you watched the damn thing as many times as I did....hooray for Hot Fuzz!!!!!

SO STOKED.

(Kind of excited for Blades of Glory too. Can you blame me?

fantasy life

Okay, so often I come up with little vignettes in my head. Stories of how I will meet and end up with someone. Be it Rivers Cuomo or the crush of the week.

It passes the time.

My current favorite goes like this:

I am on my way home, walking while listening to my ipod. Someone with whom I have a mutual interest buy only know peripherally (in this fantasy Wentworth Miller, go with it...) spots me from outside the bar across the street, where he and his friends are heading. He calls out my name, but obviously I cannot hear over my fantastic music.

So as he cannot let this moment pass he spontaneously bolts across the street to get my attention - without looking and gets hit by a car.

This I see. I run to him and he is unconscious.

His friends and I accompany him t the hospital. He will be fine; it is just a slight concussion. The friends go off to get some coffee and I am left alone with crush guy for him to wake up.

Which of course he does when I am the only one there, and in reaction to his surprise at my presence I ensue with witty banter. He is touched at my caring and wowed by my humorous musings, and thus the romantic episode.

The banter changes every time I go through this scenario. Sometimes I'm more sweet, others more sarcastic. Eventually when I run out of new banter I'll move on to an entire new scenario all together.

And that’s just one of ‘em. I am especially good at doing that for real situations, so that I can practice what I am going to say to get it down pat. Because obviously obsessing over interactions with someone that may or may not happen is always the best way to go.

Crazy? Like a fox I say.

life happens

Just two years ago I had a mini panic attack when I realized I had $30 to last me for nine days until my next paycheck. That with no credit cards.

It wasn't just the lack of funds, but the fact that the apartment next to mine had burnt to a nice crisp a mere week before. The idea that if a catastrophe of any kind was to occur (such as another blackout, god forbid 9/11, or something new) I would be SOL.

Ah, good times.

Looking back I am amazed I didn't freak out more often. But I think I didn't because I knew that by living in NYC I had chosen to live "frugally". I would pay over a grand a month on rent in trade for eating one box of pasta for a week. Still don't regret it.

But I don't bring this up to say "oh poor me" or quote some "when I was a kid I walked a mile in three feet of snow" kind of stuff. More to point out how quickly life can change.

That was two years ago. Only. And here I am with my debt paid off and making enough money that I can potentially save for and buy an apartment in manhatty in a year or so. When in it the two years seemed like forever, but such is the beauty of hindsight.

Really I am fortunate not only that I could do this, move to NYC and six years later live in relative security, but that I had the expanse of life experiences before moving here that enabled me to do so. Without all of my adventures I would not of had the gumption or the skills to wrestle my way from uber debt to financial freedom so quickly. If you can call $1350 a month rent free. (Oh equity, I dream of you so.)

another groundhog day

Oh, does he see his shadow or not? Does Bill Murray ever leave this day?

Or does Dirk ever get to see Elvis in all of his glory. Since he's not dead and all.

Does it matter? Not so much, because Dirk has his 40th birthday to keep him warm. That and his wifey. And a blanket.

Happy 4th decade Dirk!!!