slow brainwaves and fast emotions

Whenever I'm caught in the pantry at work with someone and am in need of some small talk, I fall back on speaking about my theory of caffeine. That it helps me think.

In college I learned that the theory behind Ritalin and ADHD had to do with the optimum brain activity level for thought. If your brain is of the type that runs slow it needs to be sped up, say by physical activity. Or a stimulant. Being that my productivity improves exponentially with coffee, I always put myself in this category of people.

What can I say; my brain is slow and runs on red bull.

(Some people are fine au naturalle and some need extra calm as well, but I am too busy drinking coffee to think about how they deal.)

On the flip side, going through the death of my employee last month left me wondering what kind of robot I was. It seemed that I got past the whole experience pretty quickly, and I worried that I was compartmentalizing or some such. Then it hit me.

I have a fast emotional metabolism. When dealing with emotions I just work through them more quickly than others. I burn through them like a SUV does gas.

Why not? Why can't we categorize how people react emotionally with their rate of reaction? It explains why I’m so often in a good mood. On a basic level I go through all the crappy stuff that other people do, it is just that for whatever reason I eat through it like lightning and then am back on stable ground.

Well, it is either that or I’m really good at rationalizing. Yeah. Hmmmm.

SNL

Seriously, when did it get funny again?

phraseology

Almost everything I know on this earth has been gleamed by reading. How to breakdance, how to talk to people, hell even how to give a blowjob.

(The Sensual Woman written by "J" when I was 12. Hell I was curious)

As a result my vocabulary is wide, but ironically being a lazy bastard I gleamed meanings from context instead of a dictionary. This isn't news, I talked before about my approximate discovery.

Sometimes my self-taught language slips out. This week I used a big one, and I'm still reeling.

Every week my division has a big meeting where just about everyone attends. You know, heads of sales, all the publishers, management, and all of us peeps who give them info.

When the spotlight was on me I was doing what I normally do - giving information, insight, and opinion. It was a bit of a heated debate, and in explaining myself I got interrupted at one point. So when I got back to presenting I said it.

"To wit..."

One of the publishers actually stopped me and repeated the phrase back to me. At which point I repeated it as well. "Yes, to wit."

This is not the first time this guy has done this to me. The last time was when I used "ad nauseum".

Now I know that he is doing so in good humor, appreciating my unique use of language and playing with it. But I gotta tell you every freakin time I get paranoid that I misspoke and used the word incorrectly! And then obsess over it for a week! Seriously, I'm still double checking definitions to make sure I really didn't look like an idiot.

That is of course if anyone besides him ever even heard the phrase before. But still.

quitting by default

For my entire life I have had Texas in my mouth.

Not quite literally of course. My left front tooth has a refrigerator white birthmark in the shape of the lone star state.

Growing up this always drove me crazy. It made all my other teeth look more yellowed than they were in reality because of the contrast. Then of course as I have gotten older my teeth all actually have stained a bit...what with ten years of smoking and sixteen years of several cups of coffee a day. Oh, and then of course there is the fact that I almost knocked my tooth out about eight years ago when a car braked suddenly, effectively breaking the nerve and killing it.

Really. It is a dead tooth. Which means that you can't whiten it. At least not much.

So in the most vain decision of my life I decided to get veneers. I would have gotten just one for ole' Texas, but they need to do both the front ones at once to match.

It was kind of a hard decision, because there is no turning back. A dentist shaves down your teeth to make space for the dental work. The permanence of this totally freaks me out, but I decided to go for it anyway.

Tuesday I took the first step. Went to the doc, he took a mold, shaved my teeth, and set me up with temporary veneers that last two weeks until the permanent ones are done and ready to be put on.

Of course being me I lasted 24 hours. That would be a whole day before I knocked one loose. Not sure if I was going to have to make a trek to see the doc again or if I could use denture cream to secure the sucker back on I hit the world wide web. I hit it hard.

You would think before deciding to get this done I would have done some research? Heh. Surprise. Not so much. Know what I learned?

With veneers you can't bite your nails. Because the nails are too tough and the veneers will pop off.

Oh.

Yeah, I have been a lifelong nail biter. A whopping 36 years old and I've quit like twice for over a month. Never lasting more than three. Until now of course. Because holy crap my teeth are already shaved and I can't have these things popping out all of the time.

Guess I'll have to learn how to type with nails. And do research before making irreversible decisions. Yep.

lemonade

Well, after suffering through three weeks of a very swollen knee I made it to the rheumatologist. When it popped back in I was able to manage the stairs but I'm afraid the swelling stayed high and my overall motion was still limited.

After waiting two hours I finally saw my doctor. Obviously she was behind and a little rushed. I gave her the rundown of what happened while she read over my file. Then she took one look at my leg, said she would drain the fluid, give me a cortisone shot…

And I should take up cycling. As an alternative to running. Because running seems to be aggravating my knee.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!

While she went to get the needle I started to tear up. Not run? I love to run! This sucks!!

Then I grasped my last straw. This injury is not like the last. Not at all. Stairs were never a problem in the past, and the swelling was even proportioned differently. When the doc returned I pointed this out and she conceded that I could have developed an injury and scheduled me for an MRI. Oh, and a kabillion blood tests. Seven vials of blood, people.

God, I have to say that it will be such a disappointment if I have to give up running. It is a sport and a pastime I truly have come to look forward to.

On the bright side (Note: inevitable that I find one. Given lemons will make lemonade.) Running has only been a part of my life for a very short time. Probably the past five years. If I was able to fall so completely in love with something that I never had really done before who says my next sport won't be even more enjoyable? Also, I have to wonder if I was focusing on racing so much that I was distracted from becoming proficient in other activities. Say, like yoga. *cough*

So now I gotta buy a bike. Advice anyone? I know NOTHING about them. Not since my huffy in junior high have I had one. But I have heard something around to the effect that if once I had learned how to ride...

toys

At this time I am a proud owner of a guitar, a microphone, and two steering wheels.

All Wii game props.

Just when you think one game is fun and addictive, then they come up with something else. How many hours did I spend with Guitar Hero 3? I was ashamed to say. Was. Until I started playing American Idol Kereoke. Heh.

For the record, I am relieved that Grand Theft Auto IV isn't made for my system. The idea of driving through a digitally rereated city that I currently live in is waaaaaaayyyyy too tempting. For gods' sake they even recreated the Astoria Beer Garden. In shockingly accurate detail.

selling stuff

Wow, selling things on ebay is kind of fun! Well at least if people actually bid on your item.

Just finished the sale of my futon for $51. Quite a relief as my new couch and chairs were delivered yesterday. Kind of hard to relax in an apartment where you have a ton of furniture but can't manage sitting down on any!

On the flip side of my futon success I have put up about 26 CDs on half.com to sell, and there are no nibbles at all. None. Nada. Zilch. Boring as hell, and not helping me sell down the clutter.

Seems the best way will be to sell in bulk, boxes at a time. Because I'm cleaning up and packing out baby! Rockstar's got a brand new bag!

better than expected

I saw the title of this movie "Hamlet 2" and kind of inwardly groaned. Hoping for a comedy I pressed play...

Now I need to figure out how many times I can say "rock me sexy jesus" without offending people. And when I say figure out I mean discover by living it. Sweet.

nesting madness

Well, so far the apt is great. Great to the level that all I do is try and figure out what to do next.

No, I have not finished unpacking. Stuff and crap is strewn about. Getting out of bed in the morning I hop, skip, and gimp my way to the kitchen.

Crazy thing though - I'm loving every minute of it. I am constantly on floorplanner.com seeing what I can find to fit where and how. Seriously, if you knew how much thought I've put into the size and location of my kitchen garbage can you would be appalled.

There is no rush to the process, I need to really think things through before spending my hard earned cash. Obviously.

Anyhoo, here are the pics of the place sans me.

We'll see how long it takes before it is complete enough for the next slideshow to be shared...

aspirations

Don't worry kids, you can still grow up to be a pirate. It almost seams surreal that this kinda stuff still happens in this day and age.

Of course, with the rate that gas prices are rising quite a few things may revert to some older times. Like the idea that drinking water from AROUND THE WORLD is a luxury again. No more $1 Hawaii H2O...

quandary

Is it possible for you legs to get jiggly-er throughout the day?

legen...

Wait for it...

...dary!!

miracle healer

HOLY CRAP MY KNEE JUST POPPED AND IS ENTIRELY BETTER!!!!

Yes I'm shouting. After a week of barely being able to walk and completely not being able to go up or down stairs my knee works again.

While unpacking I used a chair to put something up on top of my kitchen cabinets, and instead of very gingerly setting down on my bad leg I let it take a little more pressure. Right afterwards it hurt so badly I could not walk at all, and all I could think was "Why why why did it have to get worse again??"

So I sat my ass down on the couch and drank my coffee. When I got up a half hour later...no pain. But then I thought maybe it was a fluke. Which meant as an empirical being I had to test it. On the stairs.

Oh the reticence. You have no idea how much pain going down stairs has been this last week. Okay, maybe some of you do. So I was a little gun shy. But it had to be done. I walked out my front door, went down two steps...

And nothing!! At which point I ran up and down some more steps in glee. Free at last! Free at last! Thank god almighty I'm free at last!!

Not that I'm going to go running or anything today. Obviously somebody needs to strengthen some muscles so the knee doesn't go popping right back out again.

Ah, such a relief. Now I can finish taking out the garbage at the old place in a half an hour instead of two hours. Going up and down stairs with one good leg takes a LONG DAMN TIME.

stuff and things

Holy mother of god I have a lot of crap.

As per my standard I did the lion's share of my packing last night, the eve before my move. The movers were to arrive at 9:00 Saturday morning, plenty of time! My last couple of moves everything was packed and ready in five hours.

Okay, I had A LOT of help on the last move since I was just two weeks after hernia repair surgery. Seems I forgot about that.

Dude, I was packing until 5:00 am. Yes I took a break or two. An hour to nap, an hour to watch Battlestar Galactica. But still.

My previous standard of 20 boxes? Pshaw. I filled up 47 boxes and hadn't even packed my books. The movers had to do that for me. (BTW cannot recommend Oz movers enough. Of all the companies I used they were by far the best - quick, efficient, respectful, professional. And they brought me a soda.)

Thighs accused me of being a pack rat the other day. I scoffed. Denied. Defended. Growing up my dad filled our one car garage with stuff, and it drove us all nuts. When I say filled, I mean really filled. As in no car ever entered, and there was just enough space for a walkway. The floor was filled to our shoulders and all shelves and wall space was packed. No way was I going to end up like that!

After packing it hit me though. Goddamn she's right, I am a total packrat. I have hair dye from 1998 in one of my storage containers. My god I need help. Argh!

decisions

Thanks to Ali Girl I have two ideas for floor plans. No I didn't draw in the kitchen or bathroom. They are between the living room and bedroom in case you wondered.

I'm torn on how to arrange the living room furniture. What do you think?

Sofa in the big window nook with bookcase behind chairs and against free wall?

Or sofa facing people as they enter the room with bookcases behind it?


Oh decisions. Now I just have to find a couch and some chairs.

great quote

Read this online the other day. As much as I loathe to say it, I believe it was an Oprah article.

"One thing meditation's shown me," says Sharon Salzberg, author of "Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience" and co-founder of the Insight Meditation Society, "is that experience is one thing and our interpretation of it is another. The interpretation seems so solid and comes so quickly, we don't realize that there's space in there and that we have a choice of responses: compassion versus impatience, positive versus negative."

Incredibly well put. Just because you live through something doesn't mean you are the wiser for it. True wisdom is hard-won.

heh heh

yeah, just guess my politics...

Gimpy McGimpalot

Sorry for the lack of posting. Bet you all thought my recent resurgence was a fluke. But it wasn't! Just had some friends in from out of town. From Las Vegas and Detroit respectively.

Plenty of fun was had. Including a little jaunt in Central Park. Now I have been running for the last four weeks, doing the whole one minute run - one minute walk shebang. Weekend before last I did the loop in the park with no negative effects.

This weekend? Yep, busted my knee up again.

Being a gimp really put a damper on being a tour guide. Luckily doses of booze and plenty of guitar hero helped ease the pain. But now my right knee is twice the size of the left and climbing the stairs is quite an interesting experience.

The latest injury is entirely different from the last. Before I had no issues with stairs and it was more of an all-over pervasive pain. This time I cannot ascend or descent steps and every now and then I get a really sharp pain in my knee that stops me short. And if I kick something on accident?

Forget about it.

So R.I.C.E. it is for me. (rest, ice, compression, elevation) until I can get back to my joint doc. This definitely will make packing a challenge. Moving not so much, because of course once again I have movers. Thank the gods.

humor

Lord I love Scrubs. I had no idea how much until I Netflixed (has this word made it to the dictionary yet??) them all - from season 1 on, consecutively.

If you love it like me, check out this trivia quiz. I keep playing but can't beat 8 out of 10.

Yet.

You know, I think that strike gave the writers time to really pull out some good stuff again. The show was getting stale there for a while. Tonight? Awesome.

Just in case tonight's comedy prime time didn't provide enough laughter, feast eyes on one of the joys of NYC life. On my way home I spotted this couple clad in...well...
Some kind of knit wear. Dude. They guy has knit pants under his knit tunic.

You just can't make this stuff up.

dammit

So going through my old catalogs looking for decorating ideas I came upon AllPosters.com.

Some potential pieces to buy, it is yet to be seen. It is hard to justify buying canned art in a city where there are genuine original items available on the streets.

The thing that gets me is about 25% of the catalog is devoted to those cheesy inspirational posters. You know what I'm talking about, pictures of people climbing mountains and rowing teams mid-race with platitudes about courage and teamwork. Blah blah blah.

Then I went and found my new motto. Are you ready?

No really, are you sure?

Okay.

.

.

.

Doesn't matter if the glass is half empty or half full if you have a lot of glasses.

Fits, doesn't it. Goddammit. You know what really sucks? It is a playboy quote.

Again, dammit.

zzzzzz

So tired. I think the stress finally kicked my arse.

Came home from work and fell asleep. Now I'm awake. But I'm too tired.

Too tired to start notifying people of address change.

Too tired to clean for house guests coming this weekend.

Too tired to do laundry.

Too tired to cook a real dinner.

Too tired to stay up, will go back to bed.

if only

Why doesn't sweating burn calories?

Seriously. When I hit the gym I sweat. A lot. As in I have to wear a cap because I will short out my earbuds. As in my shirt is drenched every time. As in by the time I finish my cardio and hit the weight machines my baseball cap literally drips sweat.

Each and every time at the gym.

Isn't it hard for the body to work that hard to stay cool? Shouldn't it take a lot of energy for the body to re-hydrate??

C'mon, give us sweaters a cookie here. Literally. Enough calories to eat one that is. There should be some sort of compensation in the universal karma for all that laundry that has to be done.

happy thoughts

Now I have my new apartment to look forward to. I have not had a chance to get in again to measure the joint, but I have prepared a floor plan in preparation.

On a really bright note, there was a discovery that I made on my way home from a run in the park. Looking at the front of the building I noticed that I have a terrace. When viewing the apartment initially before making an offer I thought it was some kind of fire escape. Upon closer inspection it is a legitimate outdoors area, confirmed by the fact that four floors above there is a full sized barbecue grill residing on a similar balcony.

How the hell did I find an apartment that I can afford with my laundry list AND a terrace? To quote the sound of music, at some time in my youth or childhood I must have done something good.

Here is the layout of the apt, can't wait to get some measurements so I can plan the furniture!!! In the meantime I can spend my time pricing out movers and notifying the myriad of companies of my address change. All the fun stuff that goes with moving, you know.

grief

As you could tell from my last post, Thursday was a tough day. One of my employees passed away, a young woman survived by two children. She had worked for the company for eight years and was close to many people there.

Seeing as I was her boss, I had to keep it together for a while. Her husband had contacted me, and I had to contact my bosses, HR, other division heads, and most importantly the rest of the department. My boss was very supportive, right there with me for most of it. But being that myself and the rest of my staff spent every weekday with this woman we were definitely hit the hardest and mainly where people looked for information.

In dealing with this tragedy I learned a couple of things about myself.

First of all, alcohol really does help me deal with my feelings. I wouldn't use the phrase numbing them, I would rather say it evens them out. Instead of ranging from extreme emotion to extreme emotion, drinking allowed me to sit down and talk through the whole experience. It evenly distributed the sadness. Thighs and the guy on my team spent the afternoon at the bar with me, and it made the world of difference.

Secondly, I absolutely refuse to my core to reveal my emotions in any kind of public. When my boss offered, even insisted, I talk though my feelings I got choked up for a minute and then said, "I don't do that." Across the street at the bar I started to get teary but fought like hell until the tequila did its job.

But my god when I was finally on my own I let loose. Walking home I wore my sunglasses to hide my red teary eyes, and then as soon as I made it inside my apartment I was wracked with sobs. The pain and sadness was so great I was reduced to rocking in the fetal position just crying. I cannot even think of the last time that I was that wrecked.

Friday was much easier. More people knew as a company email went out, but in a way talking so much to so many really helped me. I had moved past the worst of the shock and pain. Enough so that it wasn't such a burden to do what I could for others.

On that note, a sincere thank you to everyone who did reach out. Unfortunately this woman cannot be here to receive these words of kindness. All of these thoughts really are about her, couched in my trying to understand life with her gone. In some sad way it really is the last of what we can give her, our thoughts and energy. And I do believe she gets both.

heartbroken

Fuck it.

I'm not going to lie; I'm not going to hedge words. Screw the job.

Today I received a call that one of my employees had passed away.

It was terrible.

Yes, I knew there were problems. Yes I tried to help. Yes I feel like I could have done more. Yes I feel like my position at the job held me back.

Goddamn it none of those things matter to her children.

I am heartbroken.

.

.

.

Because of who I am and who I strive to be - at the job I will be strong. I will help people try to understand while being discreet. I will help people to grieve; I will listen and try to help them understand.

But I am heartbroken.

.

.

.

I am the kind of person who is perceptive, who sees things. Yet I missed that one moment.

For that moment, for what I feel I could have done.

I am heartbroken.

apartment panic

Somehow I have gone and done it. I've found a new apartment.

Crap.

Don't get me wrong; it has the laundry list I was looking for. Also the rent increase is not quite as bad as I thought it would be, especially since in the new place utilities are included.

It is just so goddamn hard to wave goodbye to the money to seal the deal. Five figures people. Out of my pocket. The broker fee alone was just over four grand.

Oooooh sweet green moola, I will miss you. You and your potential. All the myriads of things you could have been. Like quitting the job or traveling the world. Or...buying something expensive. Okay, maybe I didn't have that many ideas of what to do with the cash. Wasn't quite ready to save to own a place quite yet anyway, so that wasn't on the list. Really, how could I save a min of 60K? Dude, that is just sick.

Tomorrow I sign the lease. Once the money is out of my bank account and I'm legally bound to a new landlord the feeling of my stomach in my shoes will subside. But until then my brain is dashing in circles asking if I really am that tired of stairs or if I could find an even better place or if I could find a cheaper place or OH MY GOD THE MONEY WILL BE GONE.

Only then can I start the mad analysis of furniture placement. Yes I make charts. Lots of them. For ultimate floor plan arrangement. Oh the possibilities.

squints

Given my druthers if I had to choose a TV character to be I would be Bones all the way. Dr. Temperance Brennan from the TV show Bones that is.

Not because she gets to engage in verbal foreplay day in and out with ex-vampire current FBI employee Agent Booth. But because I think being that smart is totally cool. And maybe a little bit because I totally relate to her sense of humor. Or lack thereof.

My wish TV identity used to be Alias, but that show jumped the shark and being a double agent spy lost its allure. Good thing for me, since having pseudogout could potentially inhibit my escape options.

Yes, this is what I think about in my spare time. Too much time at the gym can do that to a person.

apartment angst

So today on a craigslist overload whim I decided to look at some new apartments. Because I have lived in mine for three and a half years...must be time to move.

Technically I have a really great deal. A mere $1450 for a one bedroom in hell's kitchen. Half a mile to work and half a mile to the park, surrounded by cool bars and restaurants.

But...it is the fifth floor of the walkup. And it is kind of falling apart. And there is no doorman so I have to have packages sent to my work. (Except for the spanx ones, which I arrange for Saturday delivery. My co-workers need not know the amount of spandex that coats these thighs.) And there is no laundry in the building so I end up dropping off as opposed to lugging the damn loads blocks away. And if I'm really given my druthers I'd be closer to the park.

Yes you have heard it before. Tonight I bit the bullet and viewed six places. Ranging from $2200 - $2550 a month.

*Choke*

The kicker is not one place had all of the missing elements I long for. My favorite thus far was really close to the park with an elevator, not so much on the laundry and package delivery. This place was a mere monthly $2500.

When I came home to review my choices I found a place that had all my items. For this dream apartment I would have to pay $2650.

How the hell can I justify to my middle-class sensibility to make the move? When I could save that extra $1200 a month and quit my job and travel the world? Or just spend that $1200 a month on anything else? ANYTHING ELSE?!?!?!?

And here you have witnessed someone talking herself out of a dream apartment. Maybe you can put a price tag on your dreams after all.

adventure

You know the end of March is here. Guess I have a lot to talk about.

This past week I was sent to Fort Myers Florida for a sales off-site. Tuesday thru Friday. It was sunny and 75 everyday and the resort was gorgeous and lush on the gulf with two pools, a tennis court, a spa, and a fully stocked fitness center.

Not bad.

It would be the first time I got to go to, as I like to call it, a swag fest with this company. Was lucky enough to go on one with the previous one.

When going on one of these things I am immensely flattered. There is always as much downtime as there is meeting time. Sure you have to be 'on' for the social events, so it isn't necessarily 100% percent restful. But the food and booze is free for several days, who can knock that?

Being in such close quarters gave me the chance to get to know my peers much better, which is always fun. At this job it has been hard to crack the surface of folks. Most likely because I am the enforcer and the problem solver. Rarely is there a phone call from me that is good news.

Whenever there is a lull in a conversation I can always rely on one of my tried and true stories to get it going again. Drop a line about being a flight attendant, meeting Michael Jackson, working for GM, or being a carnie and the questions that follow always tranistions into more interesting dialogue.

Thing is, as time goes on I become more and more painfully aware that all my stories are being repeated more often. Because I stopped making new ones a few years ago. As far as anecdotes go I have been boring as hell for the last five years. The more money I make, the more responsibility I get, and the more secure my life is...the less life I'm living.

Now this is not a shock to you or me. I've talked about this before. And I've got a plan to get back into the game.

Just as an initial disclaimer the F and S goals had nothing to do with my next career choice. The bravest moment in my life will have nothing to do with jobs. I can always find a way to get paid. But that reveal is for tomorrow.

Honestly I do know what I want to do next. I am such a spontaneous person; I have been chomping at the bit to make the change. It has been a comfort knowing there is a way out, but torture at the same time.

In order to make my next move I have to put some things into place, and my challenge at this point has been patience. I want the change to happen NOW.

On the way to Florida I happened to look out of the plane window and see this river down below. For your benefit I snapped a pic with the iphone.

Looking below I was entranced by the way the river twisted and turned. Sometimes it stopped in a lake, or even went backwards for a bit.

Why? Thinking about it I could not get why it just didn't go directly into the ocean. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line - yet here this river bent and moved in every way but how it logically should.

Then it occurred to me that nothing in nature is straight. By looking at our lives on a neat orderly calendar or by counting the minutes or hours of a day we trick ourselves into believing that life is meant to move forward in a regimented fashion. But it doesn't. Our lives twist and turn, sit stagnant for moments and at times even move in reverse. Life is a journey, and the direction at any given time is immaterial. Eventually you will get where you need to go. In your own time and on your own path.

lazy

Sorry for the lack of posting, feeling rather uninspired. This can keep you busy for a hot minute...

Do you think when James McAvoy realized he'd get to make out with Angelina Jolie he nearly died with joy?

And if something a little more inspired is your style...

DST

You know what occurred to me? All daylight savings time sums up to is the government tells us all to wake up a goddamn hour earlier.

All of us. Who the hell do they think they are?

Honestly, if they wanted to swing business hours banks could have DST hours, 8:00 am to 4:00 pm. Same result, right? That is why most jobs have the stereotypical nine to five schedule.

Damn the government for getting my ass out of bed sooner in the morning. Damn them to hell.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Who needs sunlight anyway? Not me. (Says the girl on prescription doses of vitamin D)

foregone conclusions

Well, the birthday party went off without a hitch. Lots of good friends and lots of good beer, of course many thanks to everyone who came! The Guinness Lady was in the bar so everyone got a free brew or two, adding to the joy.

And I got a balloon!! Haven't gotten one of those since high school. Which is fun to think about since that was half of my life ago. When I was blond with long curly hair. If my scanner ever works I'll be happy to share. Heh.

One thing of note is I realized not only am I the girl of one hundred and one analogies, I am also a girl of a thousand and one theories. Seriously, there are things like the law of gravity and the theory of relativity...and then there are my tried and "true" observations.

For example, I have a theory about the perception of time in our lives. Most people will agree that as you get older time seems to fly by faster and faster. I have discovered that you can slow it down again. All you need to do is instigate some big changes. Big ones, nothing small here. Like move to a completely new area. Get a new job. Buy a home. Have a child.

Anyone who has done those things will testify that the bigger the change the slower time goes again. As you get more used to the situation then time speeds back up. That's why the first year with a baby lasts forever and every detail is noticed, but by the time the child hits 12 it is nearly impossible to keep up with their favorite color because it changes so 'quickly'.

Here is where the analogy comes in. Just envision your perception of time when you are finding your way to a new location with directions. Every street, every sign, every landmark is important. Nothing escapes your attention and every detail is tantamount. Now think to the 100th time you go to the same place. Half the time you don't even notice or remember the journey anymore. And while the first time just going a mile felt like it took an hour but now it goes by in a blink of an eye.

So the question is...which do you care about more? Comfort and security or grasping every moment and savoring it?

Bet you can all guess my answer.

road to recovery

God antibiotics are wonderful. I feel like a million bucks. This week I've even been to the gym! Twice!

No I'm not running. The doc didn't want me to until my vitamin D levels were normal. Besides, I need to build up some good ole' muscle strength before starting all that pounding on the joints again.

One interesting thing is that my hearing isn't quite all back yet. I keep noticing how much quieter everything is - my shower running in the morning, the atmosphere at the gym, whatever. Then I remember it is because I'm still blocked. It only really gets annoying when there is no noise around me at all. Then I hear very loud ringing in my ears.

Luckily I live in NYC, so silence happens for a total of about six minutes cumulatively in any given day.

Best part about healing for reals though? Finally I get to have a birthday party!!! This Friday at the Irish Rogue. Exactly what the doctor ordered, lots of friends, alcohol, and laughs to help me forget that time is a bastard that just won't stop.

Yes, I promise that I’ll take pictures. :)

amen

Goddamn I love Tina Fey. Bitch is the new black!!

wha? huh?

Because nothing in my life can be normal I had some extra fun with my little virus.

As per norm my doctor hadn't wanted to give me antibiotics because of the whole virus vs superbug issue. Which means I get to come up with new complications.

Last night as I was walking across the room while blowing my nose all of a sudden I felt pain in my left ear. And I got really, really, REALLY dizzy.

Well, being a halfway informed person I immediately assumed I blew something in my inner ear, probably my eardrum. Which is no biggie. People do this all the time, people prone to ear infections have it done on purpose.

Unfortunately when I awoke this morning my ear was taking in no sound and felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Oh, my my left eye also was glued shut with some nice light green seepage. Deaf in one ear and blind in one eye. Sweet.

All this did not alarm me. Because I know what this leads to. Antibiotics!! Finally!!

So sadly I had to miss trapeze lessons (Thighs went without me and promised to join whenever I reschedule) which I had wanted to do in order to celebrate my bday in lieu of a quick visit to the doctor. Who cares though when I can finally get healed!! How else am I going to get to Goal F using Goal S by the end of March?

viral

For the last three days I have been laid up sick. Seems I went and caught myself the flu and then tagged on a sinus infection to boot.

Never had a sinus infection before. You know what it feels like? Like your head is going to explode. But really slowly so that it will build pressure and then ooze out of somewhere a bit but still not relieve pressure and then ooze out somewhere else...

Guess that isn't a pretty picture.

In a perverse kind of way I always kind of enjoy getting a fever. When you are in it you of course are miserable, but it is such an interesting thing to go through with all the heat and cold synapses misfiring. Oh, and the dreams.

Know what my fever dreams were? That I was Amy Winehouse and Clinton and Obama were desperately trying to get me out of bed to go vote for one of them. All night, a recurring theme. I think at some point around 5am, probably when my fever broke, I realized I wasn't Amy Wineshouse and didn't need to worry. It isn't like she is an American citizen anyway.

Ah well, back to a drug-laden sleep for me.

happy bday to me

So as a little birthday gift to myself I treated myself to some new slippers. See, tweedle de and tweedle dum are a little worse for wear...


It was a spontaneous purchase. I saw them and fell in love. Cute little bunnies. Awwwwww.


But wait a minute. Something is strange about these rabbits.


Oh my god....they are rabbits with very pointy teeth!!


Hours upon hours of self-entertainment. Brilliant.

remember kung fu hustle?

New movie from Stephen Chow...

foiled again

So while running Saturday doing the one-minute on then one minute off series I started to feel something.

Pain in my knee.

Aaaaaaaaargh!! Talk about jinxing myself. My knee has just stopped hurting today, three days later. What is weird is that it hurts in a different way than before. That was unexpected.

On a more interesting note my rheumatologist called yesterday to let me know she found something in my blood work. Seems I'm deficient in Vitamin D. My levels were low. To quote "Really really low"

Whoa, don't blow me away with all that technical talk.

She said not to run until I am fully juiced again, and prescribed prescription strength Vitamin D tablets. Did you know that Vitamin D is the only nutrient you can't gleam naturally from food? Seems all my healthy eating doesn't mean a damn when it comes to this stupid vitamin.

Sure I could absorb it naturally from sunlight, but have you seen my skin? Are you aware of the city I live in? Aren't I supposed to be worrying about skin cancer?

Thus I am relegated to eating plenty of vitamin D fortified foods and beverages and taking a vitamin Daily. Not exactly torture, just a funny thing to add to the list of things to do.

And hopefully it will prove a cure for the pseudogout. We'll know in another two months.

runner's dreams

As I mentioned before, earlier in the week I finally saw my rheumatologist. The day I have been waiting for, patiently not engaging in any activity that may cause my knee to degenerate.

Know what she said? "Well, you knee isn't swollen."

...

Okay. That was it. When I asked if I could therefore run she said sure. Just start slow.

MOTHER OF GOD THIS IS WHAT I WAITED FOR??

Basically she believes that the pseudogout was a fluke, chemical imbalance or some such. So had four vials of blood send to a lab and got me the before mentioned bone density scan.

So here I am, ready to get back on track. Wednesday I did some preliminary running on the treadmill, one minute stints interrupted by walking. No pain during or after, thank heaven.

Since overall it has been five months since I have been running I get to start over from scratch. Which means I bring out the tome, by running bible...



Honest to god without this book I never would have become a runner. I went from not being able to jog a quarter of a mile to eventually completing a marathon.

This marvelous piece of literature gave me the knowledge and motivation to get started and keep going. And I am totally stoked to bring it off the shelf to get going again.

revisit

Correction, I take it back. Once before I quoted "Harvey", the delightful Jimmy Stuart movie about an invisible six foot bunny.

In this movie he beautifully states:

"Years ago my mother used to say to me... She'd say 'In this world Elwood, you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart; I recommend pleasant. And you may quote me"

Here I am now to correct you. Forget pleasant.

Be charming.

Not knocking the squeaky wheel. That only comes out on a need basis. To really get by in life takes more honey than vinegar.

wheels

Oh no, we're not just talking about any ordinary wheels here. We are talking about squeaky ones. You know - the kind that gets the grease.

This morning I went to get a bone density scan. Because my rheumatologist completely ignored my pseudogout knee because it wasn't swollen and decided my skeleton must be weak because of my crohns. See that leap? Yeah....

Anyhoo I got my sorry butt to the radiology lab at 8:15 am for my 8:30 appt. Forty-five minutes and two rounds of people who came and were helped ahead of me later I worked my way up to the counter to ask how much longer I would have to wait. Being that I have a JOB to get to and all. You know, the way I can afford such exciting tests.

The receptionist couldn't get anyone in radiology to answer the phone. So she told me to sit down and she'd let me know.

Ten minutes later I had sort of overheard they had an answer but didn't bother to inform me. So that was it, I let out my inner squeaky wheel.

Obviously frustrated I walked up to the counter again and asked how much longer I had to wait. The nurse said she had no idea. To which I asked, "What do you mean no idea? Like ten minutes or an hour? Did the radiologist not even show? Is the machine broken? Just let me know what is going on here and if I need to I'll reschedule. There has to be some time frame we can work with."

SQUEAK.

That got me in. They ushered me back to the testing area and I was scanned. And I hadn't even done anything but just ask for a little bit more info so I could make an informed decision.

Honestly I have to admit that I was a little amazed at how quickly they modified their behavior. Coming from the Midwest I was raised to be patient and polite. Sit back, wait, and don't complain. If you do, smile and nod and just take it. As I have gotten older I realize that speaking up is a good thing. Some people would even call it communication. As in if you don't tell someone that you don't like something then they will never have an opportunity to fix it. Your fault, not theirs.

So with this interesting turn of events methinks I'll work more on asking questions rather than just stockpiling impatience and frustration all inside. Seems I get more done.

dag nab it

For at least two months I have really been looking forward to this primary. Stupid me did not pick a side when I registered. Which in NYC means no vote. You can't vote in a primary if you are independent.

Dammit!!

On the interesting side, on my two mile walk home from yoga I saw no less than three groups of people waving Obama signs reminding others to vote. Any other candidate signs? Nope.

We'll see soon enough if it paid off!

rudy's brings the heat

Literally

If you can't quite read, they put a tent over the back area and brought in heaters.

Combine that with $7 pitchers and all you can eat free hot dogs? My god what more can one ask for?

the haves and the have nots

If you have been a loyal reader over the years you are familiar with the fact that most of my life I was broke. Most of my life I worked two jobs and even then just scraped by to make the rent. But I did so because I valued a life of adventure over a life of security.

After a long winding and surprising road, last year I found myself in a place of prosperity. For the first time I had cash in hand that was more than my bills. Disposable income.

To be completely honest it has been great. But not so much for the whole buying crazy things part. But for being able to give to others part.

Should you have been out and about with me in the past few months you may have noticed I have been buying a lot of rounds. A lot of shots. On occasion picking up a tab. I have been spending this money like crazy.

But I'm not doing it to show off or something crazy like that. It is because FINALLY I get to give back some of what has been given to me over the years. So many people were generous to me when I was low on funds. Every beer, every lunch meant SO MUCH to me. Knowing now that I can do that for other people is the best gift that I have been given. Ever.

Maybe also part of the joy of giving this away is because I feel like I don't deserve all the money I'm making. It was too easy to get here. Yes I know that I'm always working through lunch and after hours. But it is behind a desk in a climate-controlled office that provides free coffee and soda. We all know people who work way harder and don't get what they truly deserve.

So until they do I love to give them what someone once gave me.

That being said, finally after the last couple of years of fighting complacency and lack of inspiration I am ready to make my next big leap. Not this second, it will take some preparation. With this big step will come a sudden drop of income. As most leaps do.

One of my friends guessed my next venture. On the first try thank you very much. And when it was confirmed I was asked why I'm still spending this money on people instead of saving it.

Huh, that's a good one. Smart friend. So I'm giving myself until the end of the month to play the benefactor with buds, then I'll put the wallet away and go back to normal person spending mode. To save up so when I make my move I don’t have to go to hermit because of no money mode.

Now I just have to figure out when I can make the jump.

oh you silly football game

Recently I realized I was going to spend superbowl sunday with football fans.

Well, normally I do. But what I really mean is this year I will be spending it with ONLY football fans.

Uh oh.

Normally there is a non-fan or two present. Someone to talk to, in other words.

This year? Not so much.

At least I have this to look forward to....

vocal

You know, for most of my life I had jobs that revolved around talking.

Can you believe it? Me, the girl who will go an entire weekend - hell a whole week - without picking up a phone used to talk all day every day.

Back in the day as part of my every waking minute duties I had to speak, and then of course in-between speaking to customers I talked nonstop to friends and coworkers. How to make a mongolian stir fry, where the safety exits were on the plane, and what kind of lenses would work the best for your prescription.

How the hell? Today I had to train someone and after talking for two hours my vocal cords were just shot.

Of course, I suppose that I did stop and listen once in a while, giving me breaks in the verbage. For the duration of these gigs I was also able to stay on my feet for seven hours at a time without wanting to shoot myself so obviously not just the talking has changed.

Even though sometimes it could be a bit of a strain, I think I do miss being 'on' for people. Now the only audience I get comes with a meeting, and heaven knows they aren't necessarily all that fun to run.

Getting older I totally appreciated getting off my feet. But do I miss the talking? God knows I love me some attention. Natch.

city club

Back in my 20's every weekend you could find me with my friends at City Club in Detroit. Old school goth before Marilyn Manson and Hot Topic. More Ministry and Front 242.

Whenever I go home and visit the marrieds we half-heartedly joke that we should go back one night. It was always open to 4 am, unlike all the bars that close at 2. Somehow we always find a reason not to go. The biggest one being out doubts about it still being open.

Seems another Detroit ex-pat made the journey (toward the end of the post), and City Club is still around.

That's it, next time I'm in town we're goin!!

job madness

Seriously I can't WAIT until I move on from this job so I can blog about it.

Back when this thing was a secret on occasion I would let loose on the nine to five gig. Bitch about coworkers, the company, etc etc. Now that it is known by people in my company that this thing exists I can't work blog for fear of self harm (getting fired or being named in a lawsuit) of for harm of others (political ramifications and feelings getting hurt).

This can be said. Mother of god life is stranger than fiction. The political hijinx that go on in my workplace are the stuff of legend.

Working for GM I recall politics existing, but not really any subterfuge about them. Like when I complained about how my supervisor did not add to my work experience (With the help of Dirk I would find my own assignments) instead of giving me a new supervisor mine got more involved and kept me in the office so he could provide projects. Creating flow charts. Yeah, that's when I started only showing up for work an hour each day. And no one noticed.

In the restaurant and bar world the political game slaps you in the face. You know that to get anywhere you need to kiss management's ass, and the favorites get what they want. If someone is higher up on the totem pole you find out what they did to get there and beat them at their game. So by god if you want the good shifts you better be comfortable with marginal sexual harassment. And I was, it didn't has never bothered me.

Flight attendant? No politics. At all. Seniority and attendance was king.

Optician? Pretty much a retail gig, so again all about favoritism but with less flirting.

But oh the world of corporate publishing. Wow. I don't know if it is because of the NYC connection or the fact that business is centering on talent, which can be subjective. Every day I'm amazed by the subterfuge. Luckily where I'm at a level that I am directly affected by it I don't necessarily have to participate to survive.

No matter where you work there will be politics of some kind - natural byproduct of interpersonal relations. I suppose the key is finding a gig where they come naturally so you don't even think about them. Honestly I can't imagine being a shark and being at home in the big leagues. Do I even know anyone who is?

dinner with friends

What do you get after preparing and hosting a dinner party for friends?

Just a little pile-on...



If that isn't enough visual love, you can check out the pics.

fictional science part deux

Oh Fat Fairy, nemesis of mine. You cunning minx.

Another of your tricks has been revealed to me.

Just like any weight-obsessed American Woman, every day pre or post shower I carefully inspect my body for any potential weight gain (on a good day weight loss.)

Week over week things have remained the same. No extra rolls, no new body shape. That line down my abdomen still exists; meaning the layer of fat on my belly has not grown.

In addition to the self-inspection, like most people I perform the pinch test. You know, where you pinch the fat under your arm or around your belly, if the thickness of the bunch grows so has your waistline. Professionals even use this one (although the whole point of these posts is to note that the science about weight loss is pure bunk) calling it the caliper test to measure body fat percentage.

These self-evaluations have shown naught, yet I actually had to buy a larger pair of pants the other week. Why?

Oh Fat Fairy, I figured you out. Damn you for foiling me yet again. You have been putting fat underneath my skin! Lacing my muscles and organs, adding inches to my body so it grows, but in a way that was not immediately apparent with my regular benchmarks.

Don't worry my dear readers; I have busted out the measuring tape and journal. This evil sprite will not beat me!! Like most netherworld spirits it is merely a matter of knowing her game to beat her at it.

hurrah!

Tina Fey is making a movie!!! Fans of 30 rock unite!!

the odds

Often I joke with people that if I were born 100 years ago without all this modern medical technology my life would be quite different.

When I was four it was discovered I had a lazy eye, and through two years of wearing an eye patch and muscle therapy it was cured.

At the ripe age of twelve I was diagnosed with scoliosis, which I was able to correct through years of chiropractor visits.

Of course you can't forget my prognosis of Crohn's Disease when I was seventeen.

That's right - 100 years ago at this point I'd be a hunchback with a lazy eye who would often be walking around with fun tummy troubles.

But wait!! It gets better! Today my knee doc gave me a jingle, seems the test results from my joint fluid returned pyrophosphate crystals...providing me a with a brand spanking new diagnosis.

Pseudogout.

Yeah, it is a form of arthritis that is rare, often found in people as they grow older. Guess what percentage of people in their 60's have it? C'mon, you know you want to guess. Three percent. Three frickin percent. Odds for someone my age? Not even on the chart it is so low.

So correction to my above description. A century ago I would have been a hunchback with a lazy eye LIMPING around with fun tummy troubles.

Seriously, what the hell was my mom taking when she was pregnant with me??? Was something in the water I drank growing up??? The odds of all these ailments all happening to me seem awfully high don't they?

Ah well, at least now I have a diagnosis. That’s a start.

modern medicine

Cortisone is a miracle worker.

Explaining my ongoing knee woes to my orthopedist, he referred me to a rheumatologist. But not before taking some fluid from my knee for testing and injecting me with some cortisone.

Everyone warned me how much the shot would hurt. They obviously did not have the fantabulous doc that I have. (Thanks Spags for the referral!!) Before any shots came he numbed my skin, and then before injecting the steroid he threw some novocaine in there.

I'm telling you people, all I felt was a slight prick. (Sounds like my last date, ha ha ha)

Here I am two days later and the swelling is completely gone for the first time in MONTHS. Not that I am going to do anything to change that. This girl is going to set up the next doc appt and take things slow.

So excited to have a full range of motion! Here I come yoga!

election 2008 - part two

Cowards.

All of the media. They are.

Think about it. For all the debate and all the poling. All the pros and cons.

Keep in mind here, I am the most positive glass half full- sunny side of the street - rose colored glasses - only see the bright side - damn hopeful person on the planet.

I am.

Yet no one is asking the real question of this election.

Who does the American Public hate the least?? (alphabetical order thank you very much)

A black man in power

A woman in power

Another republican white male in power


Historical decisions here people.

In a world where Katrina happened because it wasn't WASP, the equal rights amendment still hasn't passed for women (surprise, it is true), and a cocaine addict can start a war in one country because a terrorist from another country does an unspeakable act.

It isn't who this country trusts the most, it is who they trust the least. But with just a little bit more hate and prejudice thrown in for fun.

Happy voting.

election 2008 - part one

Yeah...so is it bad that I think the reason Hilary won the New Hampshire primary is because she cried on camera the day before?

I really do.

joints

If you are one of my longtime readers you may have notice how absent running has been from my posts lately.

That's because I haven't been. Running, that is. Believe it or not it has been four months.

The knee is still messed up. Yes, I have been a good girl and seen a sports doctor. Did the MRI thing and that didn't tell us much. He prescribed three Advil three times a day with rest, once for three weeks and then for five. Each time I have tried to get back on the wagon it got bad all over again.

Now I am not afraid of pain. Working through it, running through it. But my knee gets swollen and just stops working, so this is something I can't just plow through.

Next I'll have to see my doc again and get a cortisone shot or get scoped. Or both.

But in the meantime, what is a girl to do? Early on in my recovery I was swimming, biking, and using the elliptical. But after I didn't heal right I opted for just plain rest. So of course since I did nothing and thusly I have lost tons of fitness and gained a few pounds. (Aaaaaargh)

Most of all I miss actually running of course. The movement, the sort of speed, sprinting down a hill in central park. It acts as a huge stress reliever and really brings those endorphins out and about.

Now I'm determined though, to get some of this damn fitness back. And I have an idea how to do it and still heal the damn knee. YOGA. Yep, low impact focusing on strength and flexibility. Just what the healing muscle/ligament/tendon called for.

Just have to wait for the swelling to go down enough to be able to sit in the child's pose...hopefully by next Sunday when my beginners seminar starts.


If I said it once I'll say it a thousand times. My body is out to get me. Damn body.

distinctive

Remember the jingle from Sesame Street?

Which one of these is not like the other...

(larger image)

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Ellen Page.

Juno? Awesome.
Hard Candy? Mind blowing.
X-Men the Final Stand? Just cool.

Its just how she appears in that pic really defines how I feel in NYC sometimes...

cougars and crumudgeons

Also while home I spent a little time with the marrieds. As always we had a good time, so great to catch up.

Oh, and we took a couple pics...(sorry for the flash glare)


Of course the single one is still on the prowl. And the guys? With their hero.


Ronald Reagan. Booya.

service announcement

This is some general information for the greater good.

Smart Meat brand meatless meats.

Bacon? Awesome.

Hot dogs? Not bad.

Bologna? Mother of god terrible.

You may now return to your regular programming.

holiday cheer

This is how you define the BEGINNING of holiday fun.

Pics under appropriately decorated dead animal...



Accompanied by beers the size of your head.



Nice start!!

Oh, and we each had two of the afore-mentioned monstrous brews. Plus Scho did a tequila shooter. He does after all have a few inches he needs to make up for if you didn't notice...

something is a-brewin'

As per wrote, I am a spontaneous person.

I HATE making plans. I love any event that occurs just because it needs to happen. Because people wish it to be.

That being said, any kind of discipline is of course my greatest challenge. Which is of course why the marathon was such an accomplishment. I mean, geez - how long did I need to work to get to that point?

So here I stand, on the juxtaposition of my life. And I realize I can go with my gut...or go with timing.

Timing is EVERYTHING. At least that much I have learned. There are ideas brewing in my mind. They are golden. But the universe has to be aligned to make it happen.

Here is how it will go down. I'm not going to tell you too much. Because I always frickin jinx myself by saying too much. There will be code words.

I will reach goal F by putting into play goal S as of Jan 2nd. When (not if) this happens as planned (jebus help me) by end of March I will engage in one of the bravest moments of my life.

Don't assume anything here, I believe this idea has been kept locked in that special secret place that I own for a while now.

It is time to shake things up. And this will be the divining rod.

there and back again

Yeppers, just stepped in the door back from the home front. In a wise preventative measure I kept the visit very short. Four nights.

I'm still kind of processing the trip. It happened so fast. As always it was bittersweet. And I took many pictures. Which I will upload and then expound upon.

In some ways it was harder to go home to Detroit this time. Maybe because I stayed away longer? Or maybe it is a timing thing. Where I am in my life and whatnot. There were so many good times back then, and now they are coming less frequently. Totally my own fault for being such a hermit lately.

But it did give me some ideas. Just have to sift through to find one that isn't fool's gold.

focus

You know, over the past few months I have asked multitudes of people the same question.

"What is the perfect job for me?"

Let me tell you, I have had some interesting answers. All of them insightful. In one way or another.

You know what? It was the wrong question. What I really need to know is:

"Who do I want to be?"

My current job requires me to play a role. Which obviously I don't mind enough to quit...but I recognize is an act enough to make me long for a place to be myself.

So now I have to figure out how I want to live. And the job will follow.

the fun just keeps comin'

Okay, I totally could not resist. I'm doing it again.

New Year's Eve. My place. If you didn't get the evite don't be shy. Give a shout.

Hell's bells, if you are here from out of town you better damn call. It will be that fun. And that easy. Not that I'm easy, I'm just friendly and prone to giving affection...

Ooops. tangent there. What I mean to say is this:

Where else would you really like to be to ring in the new year?? Where do you know you will have a good time?

Really.

C'mon.

Yep.

Awwwwww yeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.

withholding

So I was thinking forward a week from now when the parental interrogation is to take place. You know - how the job is, what exciting is going on with the glamorous NYC life, if I am seeing anyone...

This made me grin, because now when I say, "I date on occasion…it happens!" I can even say "Just this past week I went out to dinner with hurry date guy"

Then of course they say "hurry date guy who?"

Oh crap. Dude, I so don't know this guy's last name! Not all that surprising, the whole speed-dating thing doesn't get much past what you do and where you live. Remembering more is a challenge. And to be honest even when I meet a guy at a bar I am lucky if I remember his first name at all when the night is over.

But it brings up another question - when do you give and receive last names? Hell, I haven't even given this guy my email address yet, we are communicating through the dating site still.

Honestly, I'm a little hesitant to give my proper name as of yet. What if this guy is a loony? Specifically not in a good way? But on the other hand, if you are going out on a date shouldn't you know more about them in CASE they are unstable and your friends need to track down them should something go awry?

Guess either way you could lose. It comes down to trust. Or luck. You choose.

In the meantime - if I'm still enjoying myself by desert I think I'll do the information exchange. Because that will clear the way for me to over theorize about the whole third date thing.

Lordy. It just keeps on keeping on.

back in the saddle

Dating just confuses me. It just doesn't make sense. You basically schedule a set of interviews to see if you want to fall in love.

How does that work? Look at the first date - you both are on your best behavior, doing your damnedest to make sure you don't let out too much of your crazy.

To be honest though, isn't it the crazy in people that really makes you like them? When you describe the people closest to you, it is what sets them apart that you think of first. And what you look forward to in them the most.

So I went on a date with one of my speed dating matches this week. It was surprising. Because it was FUN.

Yep, you heard me right. I went on a date and had a good time. I heard somewhere that this could happen, but thought it was some strange urban myth. You know, like waking up in a bathtub of ice with a kidney gone or being able to think yourself thin.

Anyhoo, so we enjoyed each other's company. But I just couldn't get a read on his crazy. We met at a bar for drinks, and because you know how I like to have a plan I had arranged it so I had to leave the bar after two hours. That way if the night was a bust I had a sure out. And if was to go well then I could get out while the getting was good.

It went well. I think. There weren't many lags in conversation, and he was interesting and pleasant. We had some laughs, and at the end of the date we did the whole good bye kiss thing. I had a smile plastered on my face the whole way home and for the rest of the night. Because he seemed great, and the fact that it was so shocking for me to enjoy dating. Who knew? Maybe I can do more of this?

But how long will it take until the curtain comes down enough to know if I really like the guy? He asked me out to dinner next, so I guess we'll see soon enough. What will it be, I wonder. What will it be...

firefly love

As if we didn't love Mal (oops, I mean Nathan Fillion) enough...

Just read this and you know that the romance will never die.

*Sigh*

speed dating

So my friend and I totally didn't bail, we were strong like bull and lived up to our plans.

Unable to go to work that day I was still able to meet up with Spaghetti in the subway and we traveled to the locale itself. The event was planned in the downstairs lounge of a bar on the LES.

We walked in and found our way down the stairs to find a very nice space. Low-lit and comfortable, it was decorated with couches, tables, and stools lining the walls. There were lettered tents on tables to indicate the 'dating' locations. First thing to do of course was to get some drinks. Then we had to sign in with the meeting organizer, who gave us a nametag with our first name and dater number as well as a scorecard. The scorecard was like a brochure, one page folded in half having the interior consisting of 50 lines with 'Y', 'N' and a small space for notes.

As the room started to fill up we did mingle a little with one of the guests. A Russian who had been born in St Petersburg who has a passion for the Argentinean Tango. He was nice but...no. After a LONG fifteen minutes talking to this guy the host announced for us to take our seats so we could begin.

This is how it plays out: Each woman takes a spot and remains in that location throughout the evening. A gentleman then joins you and a discussion ensues for four minutes, at which time the host blows a whistle and the men all rotate counter-clockwise one spot over to meet with the next person. And as the changeover everyone frantically scribbles notes about the person they just met, trying to document as much info as possible while not losing time with the next candidate. Shorthand would have come in handy.

Okay, this was the moment I had been studying for. I had my code words and general questions; most especially I had my ‘do not talk’ points.

Which of course all TOTALLY went out of the window. The laundry list was pretty much played out with most - what do you do for a living, where do you live, where did you grow up, what do you do for fun...ARGH!! It kind of made sense, my rules are for general mingling so that you don't get stuck in a situation that you are miserable in forever. Couldn't get stuck here.

So how did it go? You know what? It was TOTALLY FUN. Not even kidding. We had a great time. I gotta be honest, that four minutes really worked! Sure, if you were in a good conversation (and yes, believe it or not there were some) then it was too soon, but by god there were some moments I was craving that whistle to blow.

Yep, there was creepy invade your personal space Imus looking guy. And the scary dude who would talk to me but not look me in the eye - until I mentioned my job and he got excited about the concept of printing too many books. (Nobody but nobody gets excited about inventory management) There was a token new jersey ‘Guido’. Also, I have to admit, there was a dude with a kick-ass lazy eye. So movies and TV do tell a bit of truth, there are some skeevy ones to watch out for.

But there were some good guys! Most were pleasant enough, and there were even men that we really liked!

Craziest thing about the setup is that you so quickly forgot everything that was discussed. Spags and I kept trying to recall where the Aussie worked and anything at all about older guy.

Even though I took some notes having met fourteen people in one night really put them in a pot and distilled them down to their essential essence. You forget the specifics but the impression and aura of the person remains. In an effort to remember anything/everything Spags and I caught some quick tapas and compared notes.

We each liked four guys; of course to make things tricky there were two that we both liked. Because of course they were the most charismatic men in the room. Most likely they were the big winners of the evening in general. Once identifying our choices the next step was to go home and sign onto the website to which the party was arranged from and log our picks.

Twenty-four hours later we got our results. Who liked us and who did we like? Of our four three liked each of us back - only one of our mutual picks choosing us both. What is really interesting is that of the gentlemen who chose us and we didn't return the favor; four of them were the same. Do they like what we have in common as friends or did they just choose almost every woman?

So now the really tough part starts. Actual dates. Lordy what have I started???

the conversationalist

The big day is upon us, tomorrow I voyage into the world of the speed dating.

*insert collective oohs and aahs here*

Supposedly I will meet ten to fifteen men for five minutes a pop. On one hand five minutes sounds like nothing (also known as a new york minute, natch) but in the company of the wrong person it is an ETERNITY.

So I have been working on my strategies.

Don't
bring up the weather (snore)
inquire about their job (potential landmine - could upset them or me)
ask what they do for fun (c'mon)
allow Disneyworld into the conversation
mention Sex in the City (typically NYC men hate that show for obvious reasons)

Do
use the letter game (first letter of name = predetermined word I have to work into sentence. e=energy for example)
ask how they got 'here' (litmus test - literal, figurative, or playful)
inquire 'how's life treating you?' (good indicator of positive/negative tendencies)
ask about his drink (I'm Irish for god's sake, I can talk about alcohol for hours)

Questionable
bring up flight attendant past (potential inspiration of unwanted lecherous behavior)
mention the upcoming holidays
the marathon

Run Screaming
any inquiry as to a 'top 5' list comes up
professional wrestling is in any way mentioned
the word 'taxidermy' is used in conversation
safe words are discussed (okay, maybe I am a little intrigued...put under questionable)

Or of course if I have no interest in the five minute date guy at all, there is always "tell me about your mother." At least that one will result in a really great story.

Strike that, more likely a really interesting story. Interesting for YOU. Dammit.

inspiration

So I've been watching a lot of star wars lately.

It's because of the Wii. When I got it I also acquired the Lego Star Wars game. Basically you get to enact all six of the movies, broken down into several parts. So far I completed Episode I and Episode II. (And yes it is way awesome!!)

Even though I grew up with the series, really I've only watched the movies a handful of times. We didn't have cable or a VCR growing up, so it wasn't on constant replay like it was for others. Now that I get to be Obi-Wan and Yoda it comes in handy to refresh myself of the plot. So I can anticipate fighting Darth Maul or Count Douku.

Today I caught Empire on cable. And you know what? You really can tell the difference between the Jim Henson effect on Yoda. CGI ain't got a thing on his mad skills with the puppet.

Even more interesting? Seriously whomever wrote the Degoba scenes was heavy into shrooms and weed. SERIOUSLY. We are luminescent beings? You only will find what you bring with you? There is try not, only do or do not?

As a lifelong Henson fan I'd like to think it was him doing the doobies and adding the dialogue. I also wonder - did republicans hate Empire? Being so touchy-feely and whatnot?

Or did they just focus on the warfare? Oh yeah, that's probably it. A little something for everyone. Heh.

something new

Guess what. I'm doing something new this week.

Speed dating.

I knew you would be stoked. Because you are DYING to know what it is like.

Wednesday night. Me and Spaghetti and ten to fifteen men between 35 and 45.

Curious?

oh funny

This just makes me laugh. A lot.

Powerthirst

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living the dream

There is a clothing company I love called Life is good. One of the cool things about them is their litany of mottos.

Currently they are sporting the ideal:

Do what you love,
Love what you do

Totally easier said than done. I mean, I love drinking, but don't want to do it for a living! And if I HAD to socialize to pay my rent, wouldn't it be a chore?

Then the question of hobbies comes up. Sure, I could go get a job at the Apple Store. But at 35 I can honestly say I don't want to stand on my feet all day earning $20/hr to work my way up to store manager. If I really wanted to work for the fabulous Mr. Jobs I could try for corporate, but my love for living in NYC beats me moving to California. (Although I did apply for an Ireland opening without a problem.)

What is interesting at this point in my life is the constant interior dialogue about how nice it is to have money. Over the last year I have finally for the first time in my life been able to afford all those things I have denied myself for years. Clothes, computer, video game, travel, and finally now furniture. Once I get a new couch and chair my big-ticket items are complete. Money will be a luxury for a while and I can afford a pay cut if I decide on a career change.

Unless I want to buy a home. Is the security of real estate worth staying at a job that I kind of like sometimes?

Do what you love.... love what you do. Something to ruminate on.

a star wars life

Literally I have grown up on star wars. The first movie was in the theatres when I was five, and of course I saw it then.

Over time the movies haven't changed, but I have. This I can tell you:

When I was a child I was in love with Luke

As I got older I fell in love with Han.

Now? Well now I am in love with the true hero of the saga.

R2.