1. Today we got new copiers at work. These things can pretty do everything except make you chocolate chip pancakes. (of course regular pancakes are totally manageable.) Now, I could see the other teachers physically wilting as the guy kept kept telling us about all of the options and features. I, however, was drooling like something akin to a sleeping six year old. Now, appreciate anything that can make my life easier, no matter how many scary touch screen options there are. New copier orientation (no I'm serious) at work was pretty much the highlight of my work day. (you know, besides all the precious children in my room.)
2. I was so involved in a preview for tonight's episode of LOST, that I almost fell off the elliptical at the gym. Also, I was completely unapologetic about my inability to move my arms and legs with coordination. This resulted in several teenagers laughing at me as they ran flawlessly on a treadmill. Not only did I notice, but I BOWED. While still jogging on the elliptical. Note: I can BOW and jog- but not JOG and watch effing TV. Hello improbability.
3. Before I went to the gym I spent an hour and a half at the Dr.'s office waiting for someone to check me out. Now, I don't feel all that bad I just have a cough and some nasty congestion issues. (TMI, yeah yeah.) I was told I have an ear infection, fluid in the other ear, a sinus infection, and early pneumonia. After all of this, I asked the Dr. if I could still go the gym. She laughed at me- gave me conditions and limitations, and sent me on my way. What kind of freak still wants to go the gym after all of that? Oh well, I did. And I killed it- except for that part where I almost died.
4. Netflix begins to create categories for you based on your preferences. Usually I have some indie flicks, comedies featuring a strong female lead, and another random category. However, the last time I logged in I had "Dark Coming of Age Tales, and "Dark Comedies about Marriage". What does it say about my soul if two of my movie categories feature the word DARK. Especially in association with "coming of age tales" which, lets face it, are already awkward on general principal, and "comedies about marriage" which, by definition, one would not assume to be "dark". Does this mean I really am "dark and twisty" Meredith Grey style?
I wish my person were on the East Coast to help me sort all of this out. Clearly I have issues. I mean, even Netflix recognizes it.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Nostalgia strikes again.
Ok, here we go. Let me begin by saying that I love my school, my kids, and my job in general. I love my friends here, I love being close to my family, and, at the risk of sounding like a total hermit loser, I love living with my mom again. I mean, she's pretty much awesome and I missed her like crazy when I was away.
That is my disclaimer. I am not uberly depressed, hating my life, wishing ill on New Bern in general or any other sordid things.
I just miss my old life.
I miss Raleigh/Cary.
I miss my house. It wasn't huge, new, or anything super special. But, I had my own kitchen. My own living room. I paid bills. I went to the store. I cooked for myself. I could walk around naked if the mood so struck me. It was my space. My whole house. I miss that.
I miss, in particular, a certain person that I used to live with. I miss always having someone to hang out with. Someone to eat dinner with...someone to cook me fabulous foodie meals straight from our famous chef friend. I miss sharing doggie-detail. I miss randomly making Cook-Out/ Little Caesar/ Sushi runs at night.
I miss working at the coffee shop. Sure, I bitched non stop about it while I was there. But legit- I had some awesome times working there. I miss making fancy overpriced beverages with legally addictive stimulants. I miss showing up for work at six in the evening...or being DONE with work by 11 am. I miss (some of) the people that I worked with. (seriously). And I especially miss making fun of the people that I DIDN'T like with the people that I did like. (I know I'm a horrible person, yeah yeah yeah.)
I miss my DVR- and those of you who are used to that kind of unconditional loving from a machine stamped by Time Warner Cable will feel me on this one.
I miss having a place to go shopping- to the movies- ice skating. Having more than three choices of restaurant was pretty awesome.
I miss Meredith. Yeah, we were all holding our breath to get out of that place- but I would go back in a heartbeat. I made so many great friends there. I discovered who I really am while I was there. I miss knowing that my best friends were just across the hall/the suite/town.
I know that there were reasons for me being where I am. I do Trust the Universe after all.And I am so grateful for the many friends I've made and the colleagues that have helped me through my first year in my big-girl job.
I guess I'm just looking to the past to try and figure out what comes next.
That is my disclaimer. I am not uberly depressed, hating my life, wishing ill on New Bern in general or any other sordid things.
I just miss my old life.
I miss Raleigh/Cary.
I miss my house. It wasn't huge, new, or anything super special. But, I had my own kitchen. My own living room. I paid bills. I went to the store. I cooked for myself. I could walk around naked if the mood so struck me. It was my space. My whole house. I miss that.
I miss, in particular, a certain person that I used to live with. I miss always having someone to hang out with. Someone to eat dinner with...someone to cook me fabulous foodie meals straight from our famous chef friend. I miss sharing doggie-detail. I miss randomly making Cook-Out/ Little Caesar/ Sushi runs at night.
I miss working at the coffee shop. Sure, I bitched non stop about it while I was there. But legit- I had some awesome times working there. I miss making fancy overpriced beverages with legally addictive stimulants. I miss showing up for work at six in the evening...or being DONE with work by 11 am. I miss (some of) the people that I worked with. (seriously). And I especially miss making fun of the people that I DIDN'T like with the people that I did like. (I know I'm a horrible person, yeah yeah yeah.)
I miss my DVR- and those of you who are used to that kind of unconditional loving from a machine stamped by Time Warner Cable will feel me on this one.
I miss having a place to go shopping- to the movies- ice skating. Having more than three choices of restaurant was pretty awesome.
I miss Meredith. Yeah, we were all holding our breath to get out of that place- but I would go back in a heartbeat. I made so many great friends there. I discovered who I really am while I was there. I miss knowing that my best friends were just across the hall/the suite/town.
I know that there were reasons for me being where I am. I do Trust the Universe after all.And I am so grateful for the many friends I've made and the colleagues that have helped me through my first year in my big-girl job.
I guess I'm just looking to the past to try and figure out what comes next.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Quirky,
Is is so wrong that I wish I lived inside a Showtime melodrama?
Does this make me strange? (For the record, I prefer quirky.)
Do I need therapy?
Seriously. I know we all have problems. But my problems are so ordinary. At least if I lived inside the mastermind of a Showtime writer my problems would include sex, drugs and rock and roll- not to mention a quippy blog, snappy pop culture references, perhaps a good long look at Henry the VII, and all actors from 90's WB shows.
Problem Number 1. The L Word has given me unrealistic expectations for my life. Seriously- all these chicks have money, and are gorgeous. And no matter what trippy relationship conundrum they are dealing with their hair still looks great.
Problem Number 2. The Tudors. This show may be incredibly loosely historically based, but they sure make old school look hott. I mean, I guess they do avoid shots of folks using chamber pots and brushing their teeth with chalk. But whatevs.
Problem Number 3 (aka the nail in the coffin). Californication. Ok so this show was shortlived, but I totally want to move to LA, become a writer/blogger/epic screw up and live in a fantastic apartment. Ok, so smoking is a dirty nasty habit and I quit over a year ago. But true story, Duchovny makes smoking a cig look good as he pensively inhales while overlooking LA from a classic looking west cost cliff.
Problem Number 4. I just subscribed to Netflix and spent our last snowy weekend in my bed devouring old TV shows like some type of glutton. I had absolutely no desire to get up and spend time with the three dimensional people.
Only bright spot: I was scared of becoming a blob in front of my laptop/computer so I DID make myself go to the gym and it's not so bad that I've started skipping work. yet. Maybe you guys should keep tabs on me.
Does this make me strange? (For the record, I prefer quirky.)
Do I need therapy?
Seriously. I know we all have problems. But my problems are so ordinary. At least if I lived inside the mastermind of a Showtime writer my problems would include sex, drugs and rock and roll- not to mention a quippy blog, snappy pop culture references, perhaps a good long look at Henry the VII, and all actors from 90's WB shows.
Problem Number 1. The L Word has given me unrealistic expectations for my life. Seriously- all these chicks have money, and are gorgeous. And no matter what trippy relationship conundrum they are dealing with their hair still looks great.
Problem Number 2. The Tudors. This show may be incredibly loosely historically based, but they sure make old school look hott. I mean, I guess they do avoid shots of folks using chamber pots and brushing their teeth with chalk. But whatevs.
Problem Number 3 (aka the nail in the coffin). Californication. Ok so this show was shortlived, but I totally want to move to LA, become a writer/blogger/epic screw up and live in a fantastic apartment. Ok, so smoking is a dirty nasty habit and I quit over a year ago. But true story, Duchovny makes smoking a cig look good as he pensively inhales while overlooking LA from a classic looking west cost cliff.
Problem Number 4. I just subscribed to Netflix and spent our last snowy weekend in my bed devouring old TV shows like some type of glutton. I had absolutely no desire to get up and spend time with the three dimensional people.
Only bright spot: I was scared of becoming a blob in front of my laptop/computer so I DID make myself go to the gym and it's not so bad that I've started skipping work. yet. Maybe you guys should keep tabs on me.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Gym Incident
**Ok. As if I hadn't already made a great case for my old-lady-ness...I just got really excited for Jeopardy! when I realized it was the college championship. Eesh. I just felt I should add in that little tid-bit.**
Have you ever had someone look at you in a way that made you so uncomfortable you thought about throwing something at them just to break the eye contact? Yeah, well. That happened to me today.
My gym buddy and I are branching out and trying new stuff so we don't get stuck in a rut. Mondays are lap swimming, steam room and sauna enjoying extravaganzas. That said, I walk into the gym a first grade teaching goddess (hah) and I walk out a half drowned, bra-less, pajama wearing, mascara smeared schlub. (Note: but I feel all healthy and shiny on the inside!)
So imagine me, this soggy vision I have just described to you, walking down the hall toward the front desk.
Now, the hallways at my gym are freakishly narrow. I mean it's as if the very building itself is willing you to get your ass in shape.
Two gentleman were standing in the hallway talking as we walked towards them. (Ok. No biggie.) They glanced down the hallway as we came towards them. (I'm still ok with this.) I give the awkward half smile that I give to strangers I am about to be in close proximity to (still handling this). I expect him to smile back and look away. I'm guessing you've already figured out that this is not how the story ended. He continued to stare so hard at me and my gym friend that I began to wonder if I had, in fact, forgotten my pants when I changed from my swimsuit. (No worries, they were totally on.). As we walk towards them (which seemed to take forever) this guy just keeps staring (I'm getting really skeeved at this point). And to make matters worse he only makes conversation with us after we have passed him by (skin crawling a little bit) so we had to turn around to talk to him for a moment before we could leave (REALLY?).
Now, I'm a big fan of eye contact -as most adults competent at verbal communication are. Also noteworthy is the summer I spent in Italy where staring down a stranger in a public arena is the NORM. And still this managed to creep me out.
Maybe it was the close claustrophobic hallway. Maybe its' because I was very aware of my braless-ness. Perhaps it was the fact that all my makeup was now on the damp towel I was carrying in my hand. Maybe it was just that I am the center of freaking attention for eight hours a day for 20 six year olds and I'd hit my limit.
Either way, I would have given my right eyebrow ( I mean seriously, how weird would I look without that) for this guy to have followed social protocol, politely smile, and look away.
I'm just saying.
Have you ever had someone look at you in a way that made you so uncomfortable you thought about throwing something at them just to break the eye contact? Yeah, well. That happened to me today.
My gym buddy and I are branching out and trying new stuff so we don't get stuck in a rut. Mondays are lap swimming, steam room and sauna enjoying extravaganzas. That said, I walk into the gym a first grade teaching goddess (hah) and I walk out a half drowned, bra-less, pajama wearing, mascara smeared schlub. (Note: but I feel all healthy and shiny on the inside!)
So imagine me, this soggy vision I have just described to you, walking down the hall toward the front desk.
Now, the hallways at my gym are freakishly narrow. I mean it's as if the very building itself is willing you to get your ass in shape.
Two gentleman were standing in the hallway talking as we walked towards them. (Ok. No biggie.) They glanced down the hallway as we came towards them. (I'm still ok with this.) I give the awkward half smile that I give to strangers I am about to be in close proximity to (still handling this). I expect him to smile back and look away. I'm guessing you've already figured out that this is not how the story ended. He continued to stare so hard at me and my gym friend that I began to wonder if I had, in fact, forgotten my pants when I changed from my swimsuit. (No worries, they were totally on.). As we walk towards them (which seemed to take forever) this guy just keeps staring (I'm getting really skeeved at this point). And to make matters worse he only makes conversation with us after we have passed him by (skin crawling a little bit) so we had to turn around to talk to him for a moment before we could leave (REALLY?).
Now, I'm a big fan of eye contact -as most adults competent at verbal communication are. Also noteworthy is the summer I spent in Italy where staring down a stranger in a public arena is the NORM. And still this managed to creep me out.
Maybe it was the close claustrophobic hallway. Maybe its' because I was very aware of my braless-ness. Perhaps it was the fact that all my makeup was now on the damp towel I was carrying in my hand. Maybe it was just that I am the center of freaking attention for eight hours a day for 20 six year olds and I'd hit my limit.
Either way, I would have given my right eyebrow ( I mean seriously, how weird would I look without that) for this guy to have followed social protocol, politely smile, and look away.
I'm just saying.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Am I a Grown Up?
Today I made an intense decision.
I made the choice NOT to buy a polka-dotted monogrammed handbag. or duffel bag. or utility tote. or on the go organizer.
This, for me, is epic. HUGE. Life altering.
As I was sitting there, order form in hand, I thought about all the cute things I could buy. And then I thought about the home that I hope to own within the next year. Now, I'm not sure exactly where that home will be. I'm not sure exactly what it will look like or even who will be living there with me. But I know that I will find it and it will be absolutely fabulous.
Now I know that NOT buying a purse doesn't add up to a new home- but it does show a significant change in my thought processes. See, I can own a new bag TODAY and save for a home/apartment/car etc. TOMORROW. Not today. Today I acted like a grown up. AND IT WAS AWESOME.
Now, I'm sure I will have a relapse (or several) before mortgage time comes. However, today I saved anywhere between $10-$68 (depending on the bag I was lusting after) and tucked it away for my future. I mean, let's go down the checklist.
Savings Account for Moving- Check
Switching to decaf soda at night so I can sleep- Check
Credit Card WITHOUT astronomical balance- Check
Retirement Fund- check
Gym Membership/Eating Sensibly- Check
Prescription taken daily- Check
Buying Generic Salad Dressing to save 10 cents- Check
9:30-10:30 weeknight bedtime- Check
Now that I look at the list I realize I might have skipped grown up and gone straight to old lady.
BUT I don't sit on a pillow to see over the dash of the car OR have multiple cats --maybe it's not too late for me.
I made the choice NOT to buy a polka-dotted monogrammed handbag. or duffel bag. or utility tote. or on the go organizer.
This, for me, is epic. HUGE. Life altering.
As I was sitting there, order form in hand, I thought about all the cute things I could buy. And then I thought about the home that I hope to own within the next year. Now, I'm not sure exactly where that home will be. I'm not sure exactly what it will look like or even who will be living there with me. But I know that I will find it and it will be absolutely fabulous.
Now I know that NOT buying a purse doesn't add up to a new home- but it does show a significant change in my thought processes. See, I can own a new bag TODAY and save for a home/apartment/car etc. TOMORROW. Not today. Today I acted like a grown up. AND IT WAS AWESOME.
Now, I'm sure I will have a relapse (or several) before mortgage time comes. However, today I saved anywhere between $10-$68 (depending on the bag I was lusting after) and tucked it away for my future. I mean, let's go down the checklist.
Savings Account for Moving- Check
Switching to decaf soda at night so I can sleep- Check
Credit Card WITHOUT astronomical balance- Check
Retirement Fund- check
Gym Membership/Eating Sensibly- Check
Prescription taken daily- Check
Buying Generic Salad Dressing to save 10 cents- Check
9:30-10:30 weeknight bedtime- Check
Now that I look at the list I realize I might have skipped grown up and gone straight to old lady.
BUT I don't sit on a pillow to see over the dash of the car OR have multiple cats --maybe it's not too late for me.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Pie eating, bad guy fighting, ice skating groundhogs.
No, you read it right.
Today in first grade we finished our groundhog day writings. In case you are curious this project stemmed from an awesome video that involved a groundhog dressed as Elvis...complete with hip swaying musical number. My kids then had to come up with a fictional story starring a groundhog. The results were miraculous.
I mean, you had the mundane...my groundhog saw his shadow and ran away blah blah. But THEN there was the groundhog King that had is crown stolen and had to find out who took it and how to get it back. There was the ice skating groundhog that fought off all the bad guys. There was the sweet groundhog mom that made pie for her little groundhog who, by the way, ate it all.
I'm just saying- life in first grade > big girl grown up jobs. I would rather deal with ice skating groundhogs than adults any day.
In other news, I officially felt old today. My kids started talking about a show on Disney Channel. They were telling me all of the characters and the plot line and I had no.idea.what.they.were.talking.about.
HELLO? What ever happened to Boy Meets World? Flash Forward? Bug Juice? The Famous Jett Jackson? Even Stevens? So WEIRD? <---------------------these shows are truly classics of the 90's/00's. And I am officially one of "those" people that just doesn't get kids today...
except that I really love their groundhog stories. their "guess what I did last night" stories. their "one time, my sister/friend/mom/cousin/grandma/babysitter did _____________ for me" stories. their "i'm a kid and everything is new and shiny" stories.
Today in first grade we finished our groundhog day writings. In case you are curious this project stemmed from an awesome video that involved a groundhog dressed as Elvis...complete with hip swaying musical number. My kids then had to come up with a fictional story starring a groundhog. The results were miraculous.
I mean, you had the mundane...my groundhog saw his shadow and ran away blah blah. But THEN there was the groundhog King that had is crown stolen and had to find out who took it and how to get it back. There was the ice skating groundhog that fought off all the bad guys. There was the sweet groundhog mom that made pie for her little groundhog who, by the way, ate it all.
I'm just saying- life in first grade > big girl grown up jobs. I would rather deal with ice skating groundhogs than adults any day.
In other news, I officially felt old today. My kids started talking about a show on Disney Channel. They were telling me all of the characters and the plot line and I had no.idea.what.they.were.talking.about.
HELLO? What ever happened to Boy Meets World? Flash Forward? Bug Juice? The Famous Jett Jackson? Even Stevens? So WEIRD? <---------------------these shows are truly classics of the 90's/00's. And I am officially one of "those" people that just doesn't get kids today...
except that I really love their groundhog stories. their "guess what I did last night" stories. their "one time, my sister/friend/mom/cousin/grandma/babysitter did _____________ for me" stories. their "i'm a kid and everything is new and shiny" stories.
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