get real

Change is inevitable. The only thing you can count on. Besides death and taxes.

Why should you care deeply about anything if it only will go away? Is the joy worth the loss?

Is a life of mediocrity better because the end of mediocrity is easier to endure than the end of something great? Is it the question of how high you can go or what depth you can take?

run obsessed

Today I ran another race, the Thomas G Labrecque 4 mile. The weather was nice, a sunny 41 degrees. But the crowd. Oh, the crowd.

There were 5,368 runners in today's race. That means it took me six minutes just to get to the start line alone. Which I can handle, that is no biggie. What blew me away is how much the crowds affected my race.

First of all I was going for another personal best in this race. I wanted to beat my 9:51 per mile average that I got a couple of weeks ago. Out of the gate there were a lot of slow people in front of me, and I didn't try to pass too aggressively. Until I finished the first mile in twelve minutes. TWELVE MINUTES!!??!! That kicked my passing mode into high gear.

Secondly, I didn't realize this until literally half way through; I never got a chance to appreciate the scenery. Normally when I run a race I make a conscious effort to look around, appreciate central park in its full nature filled glory. Especially now while in spring when trees and flowers are in bloom, it is a fabulous sight. Thing is I could not take the time as I was too busy trying to navigate my way around the other runners.

I don't know if these problems were really because of the quantity of runners or the quality. When you get in line before the start, there are markers for you to line up against based on your expected run speed. This way passing is minimized. It seems that in this race there was a large number of people who just lined up as close to the start as they could with no regard to their run time. Bastards.

In spite of this all, the race was still awesome. I kicked it into high gear and finished with yet another personal best, averaging a 9:33 minute mile. All I have to do is keep or improve upon that time for my 10K in May and I am on my way to my goal marathon time!

dichotomy

A few years ago I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. To save my life I could not tell you about any of the characters or even what the plot was, but something did stick. The idea of weight and freedom as a really great analogy.

There are people in life who prefer to have sex while being on the bottom. Symbolically this can represent having a weight on them, but more than in a literal meaning. This weight holds you down, keeps you stable. Or if you look at it another way it can stifle you, keep you from full range of motion.

Then there are the people who like to be on top. There is nothing keeping them anywhere for any amount of time, they can get up and go at a whim. This allows pure freedom, no strings attached. But then what keeps you from floating away, without any direction?

In my mind it seems like this analogy is improved upon by thinking of your life in a hot air balloon.

I have been weightless for a long time. Everything is done on whim, fancy. It has been simple to be this way, as I am a very spontaneous person. Also, I am kind of different in that I am very rarely lonely. Really this explains why I have been single for so long. Not being afraid of floating, not missing an anchor.

This does not mean I don't like the weight, just that I never looked for it.

Recently I have been caught on something, and it has been nice. Familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. One could argue that it is not natural to have nothing holding you down. Every balloon has to land once and a while.

On one hand it feels safe and secure to be grounded. On the other the tugging of the rope feels new, and sometimes raw.

I don't remember the exact moment with the Detroit ex when the anchor was attached, but I remember in crystal clear detail when it was cut. With that pain I made sure to bring up all lose ends to make sure I didn't catch on anything by accident. Now starting something again hits some of that sense memory. It is so much harder this time around to get used to an anchor again.

It is ironic that the actual act of letting go of being in control, of truly being free, seems to involve being held down.

spread the love

I have been working on a couple of posts, but have been having a hard time getting them just right. In the meantime, enjoy the discount:

"As Spring is in the air, we are once again offering friends and family a code to use to receive 15% off their total order placed now through May 15, 2006.

Simply visit penguin online and shop many of the best books for adults and children. When checking out, enter promotional code friend4 to receive 15% off your total.

Please PASS THIS CODE ALONG to your friends and family so they can enjoy these special savings."

Yay cheap books!

copy cat

To steal one from RFW, I just went to the lady doctor and when she started asking what kind of STD testing I wanted done...

 

"We tested for HPV and Chlamydia, were you interested in a HIV test as well?"

 

"Uuuuuum, yeah, that is probably a good idea."

 

"Okay that is fine.  What about Syphilis and Hepatitis?  We normally don't check for those..."

 

I look at her for a moment, sigh in resignation and reply, "Just supersize me."

 

Luckily she found that funny.  Thank goodness for realistic doctors!

too early

I hate daylight savings time. 

 

Yes, I know that the extra hour of daylight is nice.  Yes, I know that it is a welcome symbol of outdoor summer fun to come.  It is just that the adjustment to my poor sad sleep schedule is murder.  Being a night person staying awake that extra hour seems practically impossible to resist, but goddamn that alarm goes off  way way too early.

 

What do I need daylight for?  This pasty Irish skin is made for Guinness by moonlight.

condundrum

People like to tell me that my brother's second eldest daughter is "just like me".

They tell me this because at all family gatherings, most of the time she just kind of wanders around of her own volition, following any and every urge. This would be in opposition to accepting attention from any of the many adoring family members or deciding to play with anyone else. Basically they see her, at her very young age, of being very independent minded - thus taking after her aunt rockstar.

Really my sense of liberty always came naturally. Like breathing. Or drinking alcohol.

I can remember being in junior high refusing to let my parents drive me the mile to any of my softball practices - why have them do that when I could get there by my own steam on bike? Not to mention, I didn't have to worry about any one waiting for me or me waiting for anyone else.

When at seventeen I had my appendix out I remember shoo-ing my mom home from the hospital - why sit around in an uncomfortable chair when all I was going to do was sleep and watch TV? I was fine, nurses were all around! To my mother I insisted, "Really, there is no need for you to stay - go home!"

Even as a small child, I remember my mom offering to walk me to my first day of kindergarten and me thinking - why? I know how to get there, what is the point? (Admittedly I did end up crying that first day, but only because everyone else did and for some reason at that age crying is contagious.)

In high school I wore my independence as a drama club member badge of honor. Being one of the freaks and geeks was fine by me. It wasn't until college that I began to realize how loud the beat of my different drum is. How hard it is to ignore, and even more importantly, how much I want to follow it.

What strikes me as funny is that where in my youth this was beneficial, as I get older it becomes more disadvantageous. At some point I transitioned to being fiercely independent to being prideful. And too much pride is a bad thing, as we all know.

How really are independence and pride different?

Independence is defined as "Free from the influence, guidance, or control of another or others; self-reliant"

Pride is defined as "A sense of one's own proper dignity or value"

I ask you, how can you be true to yourself without valuing your own sense of direction the most?

As with everything in life, I suppose the key is that anything can be bad for you in excess. It may not be so much that the sense of free will is diminished, but that you are willing to listen to and be influenced by someone else's drum. That by letting someone walk you to your first day of kindergarten you are not losing independence, you are allowing someone else listen to your beat.

Just so you know, mine sounds kind of like ska.

stage two

The second step in modern day courting rituals for Rockstar.

I have been ruminating quite a bit about what all these stages are, and polling many of my friends. DTH guy and I are still canoodling after a month, and we have gone on more than three dates. (Dates defined as making a plan and doing something together, not falling into bed after happening to be at the same bar for an event.)

We have also moved into a comfortable assumption of time being spent together - that we will see each other again within five days kind of thing.

This puts us to stage two. "Seeing Each Other."

Although several people know his secret identity (he is part of one of the bar distros I am on, therefore was not a stranger at time of initial hook-up) we have still been keeping our interaction on the down-lo. As we are assuming that we will continue for the foreseeable future, we are being less stealthy. Not trying so hard to hide what we are doing.

Not that I ever really am good at hiding much of anything. I tend to share my life in minutia with anyone who will listen. Oops.

detox day six

Lord, do I miss my caffeine.  Did you all know I love coffee?  Oh god I miss the stuff.  I could write a sonnet.  Or a symphony.  Or a soliloquy...

 

Day one of the detox I was in a fog.  Swear to god my brain was underwater with sand in the gears.  I felt rather as if I was extremely hungover - like all sounds and visuals came in through their respective channels and bounced right back out.  My own personal brain force field, lucky me.

 

Second day, worst caffeine withdrawals of my life.  I have quit the fabulous legal stimulant many times over, never have I experienced pain like this before.  My head throbbed, sound and light drove me mad.  I acquiesced and took some Tylenol, which only LIGHTENED the pain. 

 

Saturday and Sunday, blech, who needs caffeine when you can sleep?

 

Yesterday and today, days five and six respectively, have illuminated to a fine point my love for the drug.  It is not necessarily that I am sleepy, it is that my brain just works better on speed.

 

While in college for psychology, I recall being taught how it was that hyperactive children were able to be made calm by Ritalin, a stimulant.  Basically everyone's brain has a certain premium activity level.  If your brain by nature runs a little sluggishly, action must be taken to speed it up to the appropriate range, be it physical or pharmaceutical.  It seems I fall into that group.

 

Wait, did I just admit I was slow?

 

Anyhoo, working on a project this morning I could sense how close I was to premium working capacity, and could feel in every fiber of my being that if I just took a little sip of coffee my focus would be refined and my thoughts crystal clear.  Oh, the temptation, to enter back into the world of the synapse superhighway rather than the lowly unpaved dirt road that is my natural mind.

 

Oh, the willpower, are you all impressed?  If my tummy acts up during marathon training after all that I am doing for it I'm going to be one pissed off chick.

secret garden

There is a magical mysterious hidden place in New York City, and it is the High Line.

The High Line is a long closed above ground rail system in Manhattan. It has been closed off to all public access for years, and thus has become overgrown and wild. And intriguingly cool.

While walking the city, all you see from below are rusted girders and chipped cememt. It looks like industrial waste. But from above? Paradise. A secret garden.

Ever since I have heard about this place my imagination and heart have been captured, my interest piqued. And now they are going to renovate to make it into a public park! I am so stoked!

personal space

Lately I have been having this problem. I have been acting out strangely, and even though I catch myself doing it, sadly I realize too late after the fact. Once done, I immediately ask myself "Why, why, why???"

I have become a toucher.

For example, I will be in a meeting, and at some point I will have made a joke or engaged in a side comment to the person next to me, and then I reach out and touch their arm. Worse, often I touch it again ten or fifteen minutes later! Doesn't even matter who the person is, they could work with me, work in another department, or even be a vendor. It could be the most closed off, isolated, robotic person I know, and here I am invading their personal space.

What the hell am I doing???

This behavior has even extended outside of the boardroom. We are talking any time, anywhere. Elevator, bar, checkout line in the cafeteria, chance conversation on the subway platform, doesn't matter. A shoulder, the back, a tie, I see myself doing it like an out of body experience, all the time thinking "stop now! Don’t do it! No touching, leave them alone!!"

It worries me that I am creeping people out by doing this, but somehow it has become natural to me. I just don't want to be that freaky girl - the one who makes people uncomfortable by acting too familiar.

I wonder if this is some kind of mental backlash from working in a corporate environment too long. Argh, corporate life. They take away my sneakers and I become a social freak. Rock on.

on the wagon

My insides have been rumbling a tiny bit, so in the spirit of prevention I am back on the detox. Liquid diet for ten to fourteen days. Oh yeah.

One would think the fear of hunger would give me pause, or even the abstinence from caffeine, but no. No, my real apprehension lies with upcoming bar nights.

Next week there lie not one or two, but THREE birthday celebrations. It is sad, but I really have grown to rely on alcohol as my social lubricant. Why is it I believe I’m funnier, smarter, and more suave after I imbibe a cocktail or two? It is not as if most of my life isn’t spent sober (really, it is) and I’m just as witty.

So this of all things will be my big challenge for this fast. The small one will be getting my brain back, as the lack of caffeine is officially making me stoopid. My poor brain is sluggish with no signs of kicking into action any time soon.

snacking hell

I'm still haven't finished the damn things, here almost a week later. I have worked out a way to consume the bastards without having to spit, as spitting at work is not the best way to make friends and impress others. Sadly this method converts to approximately one seed per minute.

Yes, it was a big bag. Shoot me, it was 99 cents.

So sad

Last night when I got home I had a voicemail from apple, they had some questions about my application.  The second interview had gone off smashingly, if not strangely.  It was a group interview, myself and five other candidates, and we answered a few questions, had some discussion, and had a presentation to give.  At the end of the interview we were told that we would be contacted in seven to ten days with our job offers.

 

Whoa.  I was skeptical, how can they place me after just that?  But then the phone call.

 

It seems my initial doubts are true, I am overqualified.  In order to work at the store I would have to take a pay cut of over twenty grand.  I was willing to go down ten, that is how much I love the damn company.  Right now to go down that much would spell bankruptcy.  My recruiter was sad, I was sad, both of us expressed remorse at my inability to make the leap. 

 

I mentioned that in six months I will be debt free and revisit the jump, and she promised to keep me active in her mind especially if a new area opens up that I could fill that still meets my needs.

 

So sad I can't go to apple now, but my foot is in the door.  Someday I'll get past the threshold, goddammit!!

trends

Okay, so I think that a pattern has surfaced in what is bringing web traffic to my site:

straight men locker room sex
quadruple amputee wwi basket case
pictures of ejaculation fluids
men in locker room
straight men locker room shower

I don't think that my target audience is being hit here...

pure joy

A new cult classic is on the way. My god, these people are funny. Could this be better than Old School? TBD.

And here we have my next guilty pleasure. One look at the trailer, and I was hooked. I'm so stoked I'm almost ashamed of myself.

ugh

Lots of beer and maybe a couple of shots. Oh, the hangover. Obviously, as I am posting before eight am. A fabulous time was had, I even did a shot at lunch with my boss! Nothing speaks to corporate unity like drinking together.

Must get back to bed, I brought someone home with me. DTH guy showed up at my bar of choice, for that I had to reward him with a sleepover! All my friends thought it was sweet. Tonight I get to hang with Seattle Girl, who is in town. YAAAAAAAAY!!!

erin go bragh

You know, I didn't always like beer.

*Stunned silence*

That's right, when I started drinking at the ripe old age of 16 I was hardcore into the Sun Country Coolers. You know, the orange flavor that came in the two liter. (If you are too young to know of this marvel, so sad for you damn whippersnapper.)

Eventually I graduated from the coolers to rum and cokes to vodka and kool aid to tequila sunrises to jack and coke to southern comfort and mountain dew. Note the constant combination of sugar to my alcohol. Quite important to give sugar to an overly energetic teen while drunk.

It was such a relief to turn 21. All of my friends were older, they had been allowed to purchase alcohol and even gain entry to bars while I was a sad sad underage girl left to my own devices and their mercies.

A mere month after I turned 21 I geared up for my first legal St Paddy’s day, and decided that not only would I hit a REAL Irish bar (the Old Shillelagh for those familiar with Detroit), but by god I WOULD DRINK BEER. And drink beer I did. I started off with Harp, and eventually even started to drink of the mother's milk Guinness. I started to enjoy it. Problem was, I did not take the necessary time to acclimate to this new delivery system of alcohol to my blood, and may have consumed a drink or two more quickly than I should have.

Thus my first ever blackout. Oh, the nostalgia. I don't remember getting home, hell I don't remember throwing up. My sister and mom made sure to inform me of such actions. You know, because they care.

Since that faithful day, I have always loved beer. I try not to black out every time I drink it though. Sometimes I fail, but that is no fun because if I forget everything than what do I have to blog about?

May your St Paddy’s day be joyous, and as my 100% Irish father would tell you, may your best day of last year be the worst of the next.

Even better, one of my favorite toasts:

In life, there are only two things to worry about, if you are well or if you are sick.
If you are well, you have nothing to worry about.
If you are sick, you only have two things to worry about, if you live or if you die.
If you live, you have nothing to worry about.
If you die, you only have two things to worry about, if you go to heaven or if you go to hell.
If you go to heaven, you have nothing to worry about.
If you go to hell, it won’t matter – you’ll be too busy shaking the hands of all your friends to care!!

Cheers!

seriously

I just did algebra as part of my job. I'm not kidding. I could not figure out how to get a number, so I made up variables and did the damn thing. Note the proof:

If

N = G * (A/B)

then

N/G = A/B

1/G = (A/B) * (1/N)

and finally

G = (A/B) * N

Awww yeah, I am that urban legend.

calling all michiganders

Okay, here is the deal.  As I am the maid of honor and the only bridesmaid in my sister's wedding, it is my esteemed duty to throw the bachelorette party.

 

There is no truth to the rumor that really I am organizing because I am such a drinker and socializer.  Nope, no way.

 

Anyhoo, my sis has laid down a few ground rules. 

 

1)  No strippers

2)  Someplace equidistant from Ann Arbor/Tecumseh and Roseville/Warren.  (sis suggested Novi)

3)  No people taking off their clothes for money

4)  A locale in which we can reserve an area and activities are to be had.  (sis suggested Gameworks)

5)  No pizza or police men allowed who are feeling constricted by their apparel

6)  Alcohol should be served

7)  No hanging around people who have a longing for money being stuffed in their underwear

 

Now I call on you, my friends still in the wonderful mitten state, for some input and advice.  My sister does not play video games, and never did.  There HAS to be a fun place or two around Novi that focuses on something more down her alley?  We are not talking my alley, all I need is a lot of beer and a drunk corner to pass out in, thus my needs are easily served.  And this is her day.  Or at least the one before that day where she wears white and makes some kind of promise to some guy about sickness and jewelry.

 

Are there any dueling piano bars in the area, or any other fun adult type things?  Also, any hotel or limo/car service recommendations, specifically places you personally know are good?  I can search on the web like a mutha, but if ya'll have experienced some professional bliss I'd love to hear the good word.  (Or if you know places to avoid that is good info too!)  My sister said a hotel was not necessary, but I'd like to spring for a room or two to help relax the pressures of the evil word TOLERANCE that could incur from having to drive an hour home as certain parties may be prone to do.  That word is not needed at a bachelorette party thrown by me.

 

I mean at any bachelorette party for my sister.  Not about me, not about me...

 

Of course, any information will be accordingly rewarded with time and drinks spent with me during the long week before the wedding of which I will be in town, and most likely will also result an invite to the actual non-stripper night itself.  Cause that's how I roll.

 

Oh, and do you guys know any good stripper agencies?  Just kidding!!!  (Or not...)