Where Are You, Christmas?

'Cause I'm not feeling you. I'm sure that I'm not unique in this regard. I'm sure that this happens to lots of people each and every year. I'm not even going to say that it's never happened to me before. I'm just not feeling it. I want to feel it, but I don't.
It's going to be an odd holiday this year.

I Get Quiet

When I'm down. I get quiet. I wanna' tell you about the new therapist. About MeetUp groups. About my dad teaching me how to play chess over Thanksgiving. And how tall and grown-up my brother is. About how the adults in the house no longer talk to him like he's a child. How when he talks now they treat him the same way that they treat me. They don't talk down to him or belittle him. About how happy that made me. About how my mother still makes no sense to me, but how I feel an attachment to my dad that I've never felt before.
But it's hard for me right now to get those things across. Because I feel tired and sad. Because those thoughts often get drowned in the gloom I keep feeling, and I don't want to drown all of you in it. I have to keep reminding myself that things will get better. That things could be a lot worse. That no matter how sad or lonely or confused I am, that I still have a lot of things.
I read the posts of my friends, and I envy your happiness. I envy your new arrivals, your marriages, your recipes, and your happiness. I envy them because they were things that I had. Or things that I saw for myself eventually.
Now I am in limbo. Still. Really. Still in limbo. I keep trying to get a grasp on my attitude. To tell myself that it's all in the way that I think of it. That only I can change how I feel and how I let things affect me and where I go from here. And sometimes I have a great feeling. And sometimes I don't.
All I can say is that I'm working on it. Bear with me. Because I'm trying. I'm trying to overcome my penchant for wallowing and trying to be a little less quiet. Even when I don't feel like it.

Remember That Time

-you stole all of my good cd's?
-you hated Skittle cars?
-I loved chicken wings and actually ate them?
-we went to the pool instead of to work?
-we lived in one room, with all of our stuff?
-we were happy?
-we had Sunday night movie nights in our big, comfy, ugly chair?
-I helped you with (ahem, did) your homework so we could hang out sooner?
-Boom peed on you on the drive from hell?
-we were going to buy a house?
-you were the best part of my day?
-you weren't ready?
-I didn't stand up for the things that I wanted?
-you were my best friend and my family?
-I hated that dog sweater and you made me repent?
-I ruined Angie's bachelorette party?
-your sister read our "Hey Ya" texts?
-you pumped iron?
-I kissed a girl?
-we got in a fight, got over it, & swam in our panties-all in one night?
-I'd cry when I had to leave you?
-my cup ranneth over?
-you loved & hated morning kisses?
-my mom was a vision in sequins?
-I won a right-hand ring?
-we lived with your brother? and his wife? and their dog?
-I missed your finish line?
-we had it?
-we lost it?
-we didn't take each other for granted?
-and then we did?

The New New New

I haven't said much about it (with the exception of a few people), but I applied for a different position within my company last month. Wednesday they informed me that I got the job. I started training this morning.

Whew. A lot more emailing goes into label copy than I realized. I'm excited. And nervous. And ready to put my brain to new tasks and information.

I've been at my current company for four years now, doing the same thing in the same position. And while I'm pretty good at it, I decided back in September that it was time for a change. I mean, I've changed everything else in my life over the past six months, why not this area too?

So. Here I go. Wish me luck.

Noviembre

All kinds of stuff is running through my head right now. Inspiration. Sadness. Epiphanies. Longing. Fear. Doubts. Regret. Motivation.

I haven't formulated all of it in my brain well enough to write about it. But it's all there. Swirling around like some kind of soup in my mandible brain. My brain that never calms down. Never stops chewing and gnawing and grabbing on to one thing after another.

I can't believe that it's November already. I don't know how I feel about it, but it doesn't really matter, does it? It's here, nonetheless.

Turns Out

That I'm an idiot. The perfume was coming from my new shirt. Which had been enclosed in a gift box with a sample scent prior to my wearing it. No wonder I couldn't get away from the smell. Ha.

Perfumania

There are too many scented people in my office today. I think that they are trying to kill me. I'm getting a headache from the competing sweets and florals. Gah.

The Minutes

From last night's meeting with myself (at the Squeaky Clean Coin Laundry):

1. When I had a boyfriend and a washer/dryer of my own, I did not run out of clean panties.
2. Reading The Bell Jar is like listening to myself talk. Well, at least the first ten chapters anyway.
3. The laundromat presents a conundrum: my clothes suffer from the intense heat of the dryer, but drying at a lower heat costs more money and takes more time. Oh, the decisions.

These are the days of our lives...

Gah

My underwear are shrinking again. I thought breaking up was supposed to make you lose weight, not gain it. I keep planning to lay low and work out and be healthy, and then life gets in the way. I've been eating whatever I desire and not getting in the workouts that I should. I've also been spending way too much money.
I theoretically like the fall, but once I have to dress for fall weather, I feel inadequate and under dressed. Fall dressing costs so much more than summer. Why are these the things that I worry about?
Anyway, it's about time to reign in the spending and beer and general sloth. I need a plan. I need to stick to it. These past few months it's been my goal to turn inward and start focusing on myself. I know I can't totally drop off the social scene without depressing repercussions, but I need to get my bodily health back to where it was last year. I haven't been on top of it for a while.

Neverland

Apparently I'm not the only one who doesn't want to grow up.

I'm. In. Heaven.

I Am A Responsible Grown-Up...

...who takes back her new yellow iPod Nano to the Apple store upon discovery that it is not compatible with her work computer's version of iTunes (which is not version 9) instead of buying a new computer on credit to go along with her new yellow iPod.
See how responsible I am? Responsible, I say!
Sigh.
Also, area rugs...they cost as much as 5th generation 16 GB yellow Nanos, just in case you were wondering. Just in case you were trying to be a responsible grown-up who buys area rugs for your new apartment rather than flashy new Nanos that you can't utilize anyway.
Humph.
Being a grown up. Boo.

Observatorium

1. Laundromats are dirty places. Which is funny, since you go there to clean your clothes. Which is made even more ironic by the fact that the one I went to last night is called "Squeaky Clean Coin Laundry." It was not squeaky clean.
2. Particle board, if you over-pound it with a hammer, will return to its particular state. The particles will then stick to your butt if you happen to be putting your tv stand together in your underwear because you can't figure out how to turn off your 1970's heater.
3. The secret to selling things on craigslist it to make them very cheap. People don't want your couch for $150. But they do want it for $50. The price must be right. It's like a yard sale on-line.
4. I've gone to this therapist a couple of times now. She tells me things about herself and her prior and current relationships. Maybe it's because I've never been in therapy before, and I know that she's trying to build a rapport with me, but every time she tells me about her ex-husband, I can't help but feel like she's cutting in on my time. I have a lot to say. I'm a talker. I'm paying for this hour, let's not wasting it by talking about you, I want to say. Let's get back to me, I want to say. I can't decide if this says something bad about me as a person. Dr. Melfi never tells Tony Soprano about her ex-husband. So I'm torn.
5. I miss my dog when he goes to see his dad.

Cat Scratch Fever

So I've been a little ill lately. And I mean ill in the Southern sense, as in "moody" or "bitchy" and not as in "sick" or "feeling poorly." I've just been depressed. Some days are better than others. I am feeling better now that the sun has come back from its two week hiatus.
I had an eventful but unhealthy weekend. Lots more drinking and eating than I'd like to recall. No exercise to balance out all of the indulgence, unfortunately. And today I'm definitely feeling puffy and chubby and groggy as a result. But that's okay. Maybe I needed the stress relief?
Well. The sun is out. The weather is supposed to be good this week. I will walk my dog. I will eat well. I will not eat after 8 p.m., and I will put myself to bed by 10 p.m. I will try to stay positive and look on the bright side.
My apartment is growing on me, and this is a good thing. Let's keep that in mind.

In

I'm in the new place. The couch didn't fit. Know anybody who needs a couch? I'm selling it. I have a wish list about a mile long. It's good incentive for overtime. I've gotten a few lucky hand-me-downs so that I can at least settle in while choosing (and saving for) the things that I need. Hello, big ticket items.

Boom is adjusting.

I keep waiting for this to seem real. For what I'm doing and where I am to start feeling like my real life. To stop feeling like I'm waiting for something. To start feeling like my life is on a track, to somewhere that I actually want to go. This feeling of limbo is not new, but it is definitely more intense now that I am Tony-less. I used to tell myself that even though I might not have all of these other things I wanted, a satisfying career, a home of my own, that I at least was with the love of my life. That those other things would come in time. Now I feel at a complete loss. Unsure of what I want or how to begin or where I'm trying to go.

Maybe that's part of all of this. Making my own choices. Taking steps to get to where I want to be, and trying to figure out exactly what that is anyway. I don't really know. I just know that I want to feel like I'm starting to get it together. I'm not that young anymore. When will I finally that my real life has started?

The Move, The Move

Is happening Sept. 12 at noon. It's actually been happening all week. I've been packing and dragging what I can carry to the new place during my lunch breaks. I'm hoping to only have the big stuff left by next Saturday.
I need some things. I'm looking forward to the fall. I'm gonna' relax into myself and my new place. I'm gonna focus on my health. On my pooch. On hanging with the people that are important to me. I'm gonna work enough to get my apartment in order and hopefully pay down some debt.
This fall/winter has self-improvement written all over it. And I'm right on top of that, Rose.

The New New

I sign my new lease and pick up my keys this Friday.
I have that nervous anticipation that I get after I've bought a new pair of jeans. I buy them, generally spending more money than I should have, then I take them home. I put them back on. I look at them in my own mirror. I sit in them. I put them on with my favorite shoes. I see if they hold up to my initial assessment.
I have to make sure that I still like them and that it wasn't a trick of the lighting or the sales assistant that convinced me that they make my ass look great.
Essentially, I feel the same way about this Friday. I'm nervous about seeing it again. I hope that I still like it. That it's as great as I remember it being. These are the things that I worry about. So silly, I know, but I can't seem to help myself.
Nervous. Excited. Nervous. Excited.

Most Grateful

You've never met a guy who is more grateful about a gift. New toys, new treats. It's like Christmas. It's like giving someone a present at Christmas that they fawn over and appreciate like it's the best gift they've ever received. He's like that every time!
He stole a Care Bear Cousins stuffed animal right out from under my nose the other day, but he was carrying it around so gently, and holding it, and loving on it, and sleeping with it between his paws, that I honestly couldn't take it away.
He gets the award for Most Grateful. It's funny how much this furry little weirdo means to me. How much he makes my days better. Makes me feel like I'm not alone in my single apartment. Makes me feel safe at night, even though he is not ferocious. Is excited to see me every time I come in the door, even if I've only been gone for 30 seconds. I am most grateful to have him. Couldn't ask for a better guy.

I Have Discovered The Secret

To coffee.

It is sugar.

Lots and lots of sugar.

Spoonfuls of sugar.

Perhaps the mounds of sugar will help quench my sweet tooth as well?

Birthday Wish List

I guess the month of one's birthday isn't a bad time to be moving into a new place and a new life. My 28th birthday neatly coincides with a time when I will be needing a few things. A better time to be needing such things than say, February, or June. Maybe my family will take pity and send me cash and/or gift cards?*

For new apartment/life:
1. Entertainment stand (currently the tv is residing on the tub of Christmas decorations; while this is fine for now, I want the new place to look like a grown-up lives there). I've got something low and shelfy and dark-wooded in mind.
2. Kitchen island. There is absolutely zero counter space at the new apt. Zero. Fridge. Sink. Stove. I will need some space to chop veggies for all of the lovely spreads I plan on preparing.
3. Computer. I know. How did I get to be this old without having my own computer? I think that makes me about six in technological years.
4. Etoile. I think that's how you spell it. There's no storage space in the bathroom. I'm thinking white. Target, maybe.
5. iPod. This is more of a want than a need (see #3)
6. Bookshelf. Could go dark-wood and modern-y with this one or maybe a more eclectic piece from the flea market or one of those crafty girls I hear about.
7. Bedside tables. I saw these awesome matching ones at the flea market. Wood painted sort of a shabby chic blue. Big and unique. Out of my price range though. But maybe something like them?
8. Area rug.
9. Curtains. No idea here. This is on the advice of the EmoMul who says it will help the wood panelling. I'm not big on curtains, so we'll see how that one goes.
10. End tables, a kitchen hutch, lamps, new couch. These are all maybe's.

I don't know how much is going to fit in the new place. I've got an idea of what I want my layout to be, but a lot depends on how much of what I've got will fit in the new space. Anyway. I'm excited. I'm hoping to get the keys by the end of the month. Then I can take a second look without the cloudy eye of excitement and start figuring out what will fit, what won't, what I need, what I have, what to store, what to sell, what to keep, what to buy.
It's nice to have something to look forward to and something to occupy my mind.

*This is not a hint hint for any of you lovely ladies who read my blog and actually know me, this is more like a planning tool and excitement generator for myself.

Yo-yo

No. Not like a rapper. Like a child's plaything. This is what I am. What I feel like. I hate to be so whiny, but christ, could my mind make up its mind at some point? I feel like I'm at the whim of a small, whiny child who wants to simultaneously bring me joy and throw me down a flight of stairs. Today I feel okay. Yesterday I thought I was going to fall apart at every moment. The day before that I not only felt like I was going to fall apart at any moment, but did, on more than one occasion.
I would just like to hit on a moment of clarity that actually sticks with me. I would like to make up my mind about something and maintain it. Not find that twenty minutes later I am frustrated about the same thing that I talked myself out of being angry about only minutes before. I would like to maintain my resolve, I guess is what I'm saying.
I am angry. I am sad. I feel disillusioned. Mostly with myself. I'm disappointed in myself. I feel naive about my expectations. I'm no longer sure of anything. I'm scared. I'm lonely. I was excited about my new apartment, but now I feel overwhelmed by fear and loathing (but not in Las Vegas).
Make a decision, brain! I beg you! Make a decision and actually stick with it. Maybe this is all part of the process. Maybe I'm being impatient. I am sort of impatient.
Fine. I will wait it out. I will see if this is going anywhere good. I will hope that this is all a part of getting me to where I want to be.

I Can't Stop Smiling

I put a deposit down on an apartment. Like 25 minutes ago. I will be a resident of the West Side in roughly three weeks (apologies to those of you trying to recruit me to the E. Side, but I know that you understand). It's off of Murphy Road. It's older. It's an upstairs, studio apartment. It's not very big, but it will be big enough for me and my boy. As long as there are no roaches, I will be happy. The rent isn't much more than I pay now, plus I figure that since water and electric are included, I'll actually be saving money at this place. Plus it's super close to work. I'm so excited. I feel good about this.
I will be working some major overtime to make up for the overlap in rent, but I really don't care. It will be worth it. It has wood paneling. I don't care. It will be worth it. I'm so excited. I am going to go baby-sit now, but I had to share.
Well... hello, Nashville.*

*Please read this in your campiest Kim Cattrall SATC voice.

Conversation With A Roach

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? You are dead! Why won't you die? Die! Die! Die! I hate you! You are dead! You are in pieces right now, how are you still trying to get away from me?!? Mother-effer..."

~rather angry one-sided conversation with a very resilient roach that I was beating with a broom at the time. In my bedroom.

My family isn't punishing me for breaking up with Tony. Nor are my friends, or his friends, or his family. He's not even punishing me. Everyone's been surprisingly supportive, actually. But, oh, the roaches are most definitely in his camp. And they are exacting a revenge that couldn't have been better planned to torment me.

Narcolepsy

"But I'm not tired. I'm not tired. I'm not tired. I just sleep."

This is where I currently find myself. I'm not tired. I'm just tired of things. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of feeling and thinking and enduring. Things that just seem to be on loop. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of questioning who I am and what I want and how to get it. I want to curl up into a tiny space. I want to turn my brain off. I want to wake up when it's all over. I don't want to deal with these things that I feel. I don't want to go to work every day and look around me and push through another 8 hours feeling the hopelessness and helplessness that I feel. I don't want to go home and walk my dog, and make my dinner, and find a book to read until I can finally go to bed and shut it all out for another 8 hours until I start all over again.

I want to go to sleep. And I want to wake up once the hard part is over. I know that this is impossible. I know that I can't get to where I want to be without dealing with all of this shit. The messy shit. The hard part. I know that. Nonetheless. I'm so tired of it all.

But I'm not tired. I just want to sleep. Does the butterfly feel any pain during metamorphosis? Am I even going to end up being the person that I want to be? Is all of this pain even going to be worth it?

Ba dum bum

I checked out an apartment today. It is literally two blocks from my place of business. Kind of on the high end of my price range at $675, but could be worth it based on location alone. A little uncertain about safety. I know that moving into the city entails more crime and more money for less, so I just wanted to get out there and start seeing what I can get for what I can afford. The one I saw today is definitely on my radar.
I've decided other than stomping the roaches out as they appear, the only other option I have that's going to make me feel better is to start the process of getting the H up out of there.
So. If any of you few trusty readers (literally, I think there's one of you that doesn't work with me and isn't T's mom) knows of apartments/rentals in the $600 range, let me know. I'm looking to move by October 1, but sooner if I can wriggle out of my lease with constant complaints about the constant flow of roaches that are now making their way through my apartment to their untimely deaths.

Conversation In A Breezeway

"They got some king-size roaches around here."

"Yeah, I know. They even hang out in my apartment!"

Guess which was me? And which was yet another odd lady that lives upstairs? Some things change, some things don't. The roaches are after me. In abundance. And I still hate them.

Life Is Hard

Regardless of where your troubles fall on the spectrum of standard to tragic, from mundane to horrific, life is hard. We only get what we're handed. I sometimes feel ridiculous being so upset about the things that have happened to me, both now and in the past, when I compare them to the things that people I know have been through. I feel stupid crying about my love lost, my fear of being alone, my resentment of my mother. I get annoyed with myself for succumbing to the pain of heartbreak and the insecurity of not having many friends. I remind myself how much worse it could be. I don't live in a war-torn country. I haven't been abused or discriminated against. I have a job. I have a place to live. I have a dog. I have the things that I need to live. My problems are pretty cushy problems to have. I get embarrassed when I think about going to a therapist and complaining about these very middle class issues.
But.
I'm reading Eat, Pray, Love right now. The author, Liz Gilbert, actually addresses exactly this issue fairly early in the book. She describes a conversation with a therapist friend who has signed up to work with refugees. The therapist friend explains to her that even with all of things that these people have seen and experienced, when she finally meets with them, they all want to talk about their love lives. Their broken hearts.
And so. I guess that is the common thread among us. We are all like this. Life is hard. Love is hard. Loving someone is hard. It doesn't always work out the way that you thought it would.
I try to remind myself of this. I'm also trying to maintain some clarity and self-awareness as I go through this time in my life, so that I don't lose sight of the fact that I've still got it okay, even if my whole life is going a different way than I'd anticipated.
Additionally, so this won't seem so cryptic, my Tony and I are no more. Six years is a long time, and I feel like I'm starting my life all over again. So. Here we go.

Times Are Changing

Big changes. More to come. Sorry for the vague, but I'm still processing and not quite sure how to write it yet.

Enjoy This Today

Sort of reminds of Prince. The video's super cool. Kind of an 80's vibe. I love the end when they start singing about the Tootsie Roll. And that smile at like 2 minutes. God. That is a life-changing smile. Wish I were more musically knowledgeable so I knew the proper words for describing the things I like.

Dance At My Funeral

I Am A Dancy Party Waiting To Happen

Did you know this about me? It's true.
I had a superb weekend. I nurtured a blossoming friendship. I helped throw a baby shower for my boyfriend's brother & his wife. I worked some overtime. I had a dance party with some super sultry ladies.
I listened to this all day. It seriously made my day better. I think K'Naan will be my summer jamfest. The whole album is radical. Sometimes I think I must look like some kinda' idiot white girl blasting such things from my tiny Honda. Then I realize that I don't really care. I danced in my seat the whole way home today.
PS: Shout out to my M for her birthday!

Today Was A Good Day

And it's not even over yet! Apparently being sans boyfriend makes me very prolific. I feel the need to update all three of you on my every single move. Day 2 of Solobacheloria has matched my forecast quite well, though I didn't make it to the dentist - I got up too late.
I did, however, make it to work early. I hit up Trader Joe's during my lunch hour. It was my first time. Oh my crap. I think that that store made my day. Possibly my week. I dropped $100 on my first selfish grocery excursion in years. I am not going to lie, I bought every single thing that I wanted. It was awesome. If there was a cult of Trader Joe's I would be there, drinking the Kool-Aid.
I still managed to get in some overtime. I left promptly at 5:30. I took my dog for an awesome walk/run around our well-landscaped complex. I am currently making Polenta Provencale: With Spinach & Peas in a Spicy Creamy Sauce. Tonight's movie shall be The Wackness or Mamma Mia! I may top it off with ice cream before attending my dance party for one. I may not.
Have a day like this. Where you do some little things that make your heart happy. Where you find yourself enjoying some unexpected pleasure (like organic, preservative-free food that doesn't cost as much as a small pony). Do something nice for yourself today. Or tomorrow. Or Saturday. You won't regret it.

Day 1 - Solo

I've already made a liar out of myself. I didn't even work out. I ate a frozen pizza. I had a very slender dance party, so slender it was almost anorexic and almost can't be categorized as a dance party at all. Though I did get Boom in on it for about 15 seconds of The Cure. (Also, I watched Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist. I vote "yes." Exactly what I wanted it to be).
Don't worry, though. I have an early dentist appointment tomorrow. That means I'll get to work early. That means I can go to Trader Joe's during my lunch and still get some overtime in. Which means I won't stay at work too late. Which means I can get home with enough light to walk the dog. And shower. And have a dance party. Or maybe reverse the order of those last two...whatever. And make something delicious and nutritious for dinner. Tomorrow will be mine.*

*Where's all this crazy positive energy coming from, you might ask? My lady parts! Pre-m.s. is over. Thanks be to Jesus for periods! Crazy lady hormones are banished. At least for the next 21-28 days. Whew. Hallelujah.

And Also

I have bangs now. They were greasy after 5 hours. I'm hoping to adjust to their presence accordingly. And hoping to learn to stop touching them so much so that they won't be so greasy. I think that my days of skipping the wash cycle may be over. I hope I can wield the utensils that this new "style" requires. I'm somewhat illiterate in the ways of womanhood. Hair is definitely one of the areas in which I could use some tutelage. Life's a dance, right? You learn as you go? Hopefully I won't look too ridiculous while I'm figuring this one out.

My Boyfriend's Going Out Of Town

Here are the things that I will do every day:
1. Work out.
2. Eat whatever I want for dinner.
3. Have a dance party.
Here are the things that I will do whenever I want:
1. Watch whatever movies I want.
2. Control the remote.
3. Wear my sweatpants!
Here are the things that will be less fun without him:
1. Sleeping.
2. Cuddling up for that ten minutes of snooze button time.
3. Taking out the dog.
Here are the things that I am looking forward to:
1. All of the hot water that I want.
2. Grocery shopping sans man.
3. Girls' night with snacks and movies and hopefully a dance or two if I can talk them into it.

Ten Things

I'm stealing this from my friends. Call me a plagiarist, I don't really care.
1. The Spartans made it to the Championship game but didn't win. I still won my office pool though.
2. I am helping with baby shower preparations for next weekend. I'm actually somewhat excited now that I've Googled some activities to contribute.
3. My boyfriend is going to Vegas for almost a week. I don't mind. I think the alone time will be therapeutic, barring the roaches which will no doubt appear on a daily basis once he leaves.
4. I cannot wait for the steamy summer weather. It's around the bend, I can smell it.
5. My dog's face smells like @ss. It's his anal glands. It's disgusting.
6. I am reading This Side Of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald for my book club, even though I won't be attending it (due to the baby shower). This statement probably makes me a plebeian, but I don't get it. I didn't get The Great Gatsby either. I wonder if that would change now if I read it as an adult, but given my current project, I'd guess no.
7. We finished The Wire. Season 5 didn't live up the precedent set by the first four seasons, but all in all, it's still one of the best shows I've ever watched.
8. I want to go to Africa - Namibia. Botswana. South Africa. Ghana - I'm not picky. I just need to figure out how.
9. I'm starting to sort of like running. I still only do it in 3-6 minute intervals, but that's a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I'd do.
10. I need to buy a new bathing suit this season. Blegh. I don't want to.

Final Four

Yep. The Spartans are there. And yep, I'm that annoying girl blogging about it. I'm in 1st place in my work bracket, but that could all change in the blink of an eye. It's the glory of March Madness, I tell you. If Michigan State does win ('cause I've picked them to go all the way, of course), I think it will come down to the tie-breaker, and I don't know exactly how that works. Like is it como la Price Is Right, where the closest without going over wins? 'Cause if so, I might be golden. If not, I may not be seeing any of that prize money after all. Oh well though. First time I've ever had a bracket this good, so even if I lose, I'll still feel like a winner.
Yes, I just said that.

You Know Who's Going On Vacation?

With her best friend?
To a fancy resort she could never afford by herself (at least for a good thirty years)?
With glorious white sands?
And a pool?
For an entire week?
Uh huh.
This girl.

Twitter

I just joined. I feel like an odd sellout about it. More pressure to come up with witty slogans that prove I'm charming and funny. Really, I just checked out the site for the first time after all of this chatter about Ashton Kutcher and John Mayer. Then the website won me over with all of those cartoon birds. So pretty. You know what they say about rednecks, we like anything sparkly...
Well, that's what I heard the other day, and it certainly applies to me, so I must be a redneck. Ha, I swear the Jeff Foxworthy reference was an accident.

And just in case you were wondering, but you probably weren't, we're going to the Elite Eight!!! Awesome game. Go Green!

Go Green

The world is turning green again. It's so nice. I feel like this has been the longest winter of my life, although I'm quite sure that I endured far worse temperatures and conditions back when I lived in the ol' Mitten.

Speaking of which, Michigan State plays Kansas in the Sweet 16 tonight. Let's wish my boys well. If they don't win, not only will my heart be broken, so will my bracket.

And on that note...GO WHITE!

Weekends Are For Updates!

No? Yes!
I cleaned my oven! It wasn't fun. My knees are bruised from all of that kneeling. I had to bust out the scraper for the grill. It was dirty work. I had the day off on Friday, so I cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. It was therapeutic. I took the recyclables! I even vacuumed the coat closet!
I finished season 4 of "The Wire"! I haven't mentioned my deep and undying addiction to that show yet, have I? A late bloomer, but a bloomer nonetheless. That show is effing amazing. I've never seen anything like it. It really is a secret portal into an unknown world. I am absolutely captivated by it and have been moved to probably every single human emotion while watching this show. You think I'm exaggerating. I'm not. Try it for yourself. I have become a crazy convert and my religion is "The Wire." Do it!
I went to my book club! Month three of keeping my New Year's Resolution to attend all book club meetings this year. Sadly, I will miss next month's meeting, but since it's for a family affair, I will not beat myself up over it. This month's book was Annie Dillard's An American Childhood. I thought of it as a more thoughtful, less bitter, less funny David Sedaris. That doesn't make it sound as good as I actually thought it was though. It was really insightful. Just sort of random essay-like chapters - snapshots of a childhood. I really enjoyed it. It was relate-to-able - very unlike "The Wire." Ha.
I went to The Old Spaghetti Factory and the Wild Beaver! I sang karaoke!
I ate a delicious home cooked meal with my common-law-in-laws.
I browned butter and baked spaghetti squash, neither of which turned out all that spectacularly.
I might be going to Tampa for a summer vacation with my best friend, who I haven't seen in over a year. Words cannot express how much I hope this plan pans out.
I'm going to see DMB in April, and I'm not even embarrassed to admit my deep and undying love for their music.
I love this weather we've been having!

We Didn't Start The Fire

Or, um. Yes, we did. If we is me. And is that too trite of a post title? It probably is, but I'm rusty, so cut me some slack. I've been in a fairly deep rut, and I'm trying to mentally climb out of it, but I feel more like that pregnant lady in Apocolypto trying to scramble out of a pit with a small child clinging to her leg. Except without being pregnant, and minus the child, but you get the feeling of futility and frustration, right? Anyway, it's mundane; I'm working on it. No need to fret. No suicide watch here. Just a little mid-life blah.
Now, back to my trite title. I accidentally tried to set my apartment on fire this evening. Good thing for smoke alarms, right? The place might be crawling with roaches and car burglars, but at least your smoke alarms are functioning, right? Right? Wrong. More like thanks to our water heater that only heats about five minutes of hot water, or we might've gone up in smoke. We being me, my fantastical dog, the roaches, and the other tenants of my building along with all of their worldly possessions.
I took the Boomy for a walk/run while T went to work out. We got home ripe and sweaty. I pre-heated the oven for some fish sticks and got in the shower to rinse off before preparing a tasty, if unoriginal, meal. I just happened to forget that the last time I used the oven, I didn't follow directions, threw the pre-cut pizza directly onto the rack and lost half of it to gravity. It was a smoky ordeal which I promptly forgot.
'Til I came out of the bathroom to find an equally steamed up apartment. The oven was smoking. The old pizza was actually on fire in there. Whew. Scary. I managed to not panic, take out the racks, and throw a wet towel on the burning cheese and toppings.
Not a fire fighter, but given my absentmindedness and short fuse lately, I'm quite pleased with myself. Just not looking forward to cleaning that oven.

Hello. My Name Is Nichole

And I'm depressed.

Experiment Update Number 1

So I just re-read my goals, which I had forgotten all about.
I did get in three strength workouts and 2.5 cardio workouts last week. So I was pleased about that. Tonight I am due for the circuit training (strength routine) with a few more reps than last week. Can I say that I'm dreading it? Can I say that that would be an understatement? Either way, let's stay positive here, I hit last week's exercise goal.
I also did a fairly good job of sticking to healthy snacks at work (I passed up a shared Twix!), until the weekend, which coincided with pre-m.s. I ate a fare amount of not the best stuff this weekend. But I will say that McDonald's has one of the best chocolate dipped cones around. The chocolate melts in your mouth like poison. Yum!
I drank on Saturday. Forgot all about my three drink limit. But didn't have a hangover, so although I wasn't as healthy as I'd have liked, I DID get my @ss to work on Sunday morning for a little OT.
Two out of three ain't bad, right? Well, technically it's a 66.66%, which is not a passing grade, but I'll take it.
This week's goals are pretty much the same (sort of blew the snack one given that the Girl Scout cookies I ordered came in today), so instead of trying to avoid unhealthy snacks altogether (at which I will fail), I'll compromise by making my goal to count calories this week instead. And not go over. Obviously. Um, today is excluded. That means I'll count on Saturday too.
Okay, those are some nice, shiny goals. Now...I shall try not to die while I do squat thrusts. Yes, they are just as horrible as they sound.

Missed Connections

On craigslist. Have you ever read these? I didn't know that they existed until about six months ago. Today was only my second perusal. One or two made me teary-eyed. Several made me laugh out loud. A couple were just vulgar. God. People never cease to amaze me. And this time it's in a good way.

http://nashville.craigslist.org/mis/

Experimental February

So February is going to be an experiment. An experiment in not drinking for a month, in trying to eat well, in setting an exercise goal for each week, and sticking to it. To see if a month of healthy living is enough time for palpable results in the realm of mind, body, spirit.
I figure that the shortest month is the one to try. I'll let y'all know how it goes.
Given that today was Super Bowl Sunday I didn't eat incredibly well, but I refrained from beer, AND I had an excellent walk/run (much more walk than run) with my dog at the Greenway. It was an amazingly gorgeous day, and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't close my eyes and breathe in deeply to really enjoy the wind and sunshine.
So this week's goals:
- 5 days of exercise. Two days of cardio and three days of strength training. It's time to start implementing some strength training so that I can tone up. I hate strength training, but it needs to be done. Tony brought me home this Women's Health 2009 Training Guide from the free bin at his work. I find a lot of the exercises to be very intimidating, but it's good motivation.
- Pass on the unhealthy snacks, most especially at work.
- Skip beer altogether, though we do have a birthday party coming up, so, if it must be consumed, 3 drink maximum.
Okay. Small, attainable goals are the road to change. So here we go.

Shopry Mills

We went today. Have I told you how I hate shopping? Well, I do. I lost some weight over last year, and I seem to be slowly piling it back on. I guess that's the way it goes, right? Well, I wasn't really in the mood for shopping, but I had some jeans to take back to Old Navy, along with a "Free Pair of Denim On Us" card (let me say as a side note that when you're dissatisfied with a product or an experience - write a letter. Always. Write a letter, and send it to the customer service department. You never know what they'll send back to you in the hopes of remedying the situation). I had a bad experience with a pair of Old Navy jeans, and hence, the "Free Pair of Denim On Us" card was born.
Well, let me also just say that the Old Navy of Opry Mills has possibly the worst lighting ever. I tried on about eight pairs of jeans, and they all fit, but weren't necessarily the flattery that I was going for. It also didn't help that every time I removed my jeans, every dimple on my thighs and every stretchmark everywhere else were on display. Dear god, y'all would move more product if you had some dimmer lighting. It was enough to make me sink back into my old jeans and slink out of the store with only a pair of yoga pants. That's right, Old Navy, you sure showed me. I'll be working this ass out for a few months before I saunter back in there, trying on jeans in the worst-lit dressing rooms of all time.
It was "inspirational" though. Inspiration to put the Oreo's away, and head back to the Y with a vengeance. Closer to the vengeance that I had at this time last year and farther from the weak vengeance I've been mustering. I tried on the jeans that I had returned, same cut, same style, same wash, slightly thicker denim, and I felt like a sausage. It was discouraging to say the least. The only thing that made me feel better was that my incredibly fit boyfriend said the mirror also played tricks on him, making him feel that his not-quite-cut abs looked more like a beer gut. I'd be content to just get back to my September weight and then maybe start toning up those dimples that are oh-so-evident on the Old Navy mirror.
I hate coming to terms with the girls that I'm never going to be. I'm never going to be fashion forward or trendy. I'm never going to be stick straight with an awesome set of knockers. I'm never going to be spot-on with accessories or hairstyles. I wish that I could just accept these things about myself and make the most of what I've got. I'd say I do that some of the time. Sometimes I can say, you are the girl with the big booty and heels and basic tank top/cardigan/GAP sweater (that your boyfriend picked out for you). Hell, you are the girl with the boyfriend who's always going to be dressed better than you are. So get your tan in the summer, buy your tank tops, find that one pair of jeans you feel confident in, and stop worrying about it. You are who you are. You're getting a little old to not be comfortable with yourself. Oh yeah, and maybe stop eating so many Joe Joe's and get your @ss to the Y.

Oh My Goodnesses

I have just watched the most amazing, most inspiring, most interesting documentary I have ever seen. I know what you're probably expecting, and it's not that. It's the Pixar Story. If you liked any of the Disney Pixar movies, any of their, what is it now, EIGHT, visual masterpieces, you should check out this documentary. Once you watch this film you realize why every single one of their full-length films has been a hit. It's because the company is filled with these people who are dedicated to making an amazing product, not just pushing out movies to make a buck. It was totally inspiring to watch. Literally gave me goosebumps a couple times, maybe 'cause I've loved so many of their movies, but maybe because it was just that moving to watch a company that had so much heart and devotion and took these great risks to make something that they could be proud of. Oh, to be so passionate about one's work. It must be radical. And this was all filmed before Wall-E. I can't even imagine how they're going to top themselves now.

Ticky Tacky

"And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same." Five points if you know what that's from...Yes, Random House. That's the name of my game.
Hmmm, to do the year in review or not? I can't decide. I think it's still too fresh. Being 367 days past its prime and all. I did, however, make New Year's resolutions. I will list them for you:
1. Call Austin every Sunday.
2. Exercise 4-5 times per week.
3. Eat more fresh fruits and veggies.
4. Shop at the farmer's market for said fruits and veggies.
5. Go to ALL of my book club meetings (I was a tad absent in '08).
6. Buy a house.
7. Pay 1/2 of my credit card balance (numbers 6 & 7 should maybe be reversed, no?).
8. Have dance parties.
9. Be grateful.
10. Volunteer.
Personally, I think ten is a nice, round number. I'm sticking with it. I'm sticking with these resolutions too. I will MAKE them happen. That's how I'll be rolling in 2009. This year's motto is: Time to stop talking about it and start being about it. Sounds badass, right?