I went for a walk on the beach last night. I love walking along the ocean at night. Everything blends together, merges into a single, united entity, ocean, sky, sand. It makes me feel like I am the last human being on earth.
It was a really nice way to kick off the New Year's celebration, which to me always feels like a non-event. For the past who knows how many years, I've "celebrated" alone. Me, my kitties, a bottle of champagne and the amazing Spinach Artichoke Dip. It sounds sad and pathetic, but really, it's not.
I like to use the night to think about the past year and what I would like for the year ahead. Not that it makes any difference. So many things happen and there's just no controlling it. Last year, would I have ever believed that I would be moving again, living on the ocean, working at an ad agency, alone again against the world? Not on your life. And some of these things I didn't even know I wanted, but am so glad about. And some, well, not so much.
Life has an almost insane way of winding you up, spinning you out, and sitting back and laughing as you teeter off into your new direction.
But that's what makes it all so much fun.
I have no idea what 2008 will hold. I would really like to be 33 and Debt Free. I would really like to get certified again to teach exercise classes. I might even be inspired by Crazy Aunt Purl and take up knitting.
I look back on 2007 and the only thing I know for sure about it is, I learned a whole heckuva lot about myself. So, here's to another successful year.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
When Good Flirting Goes Bad
Well, I survived Christmas. And while it wasn't the jolliest of holidays for me, it wasn't all that bad either. The Nutcracker was a highpoint with what might have been the most unbelievably gorgeous Waltz of the Flowers ever. I had tears running down my cheeks the entire time. I gave a good bounty, got a good bounty, and the four days were survived with a minimum of drama. All in all, a successful time.
Upon returning to life in the real world, well, it's a little of this and a little of that. Superficially, all should be really really well. I have a great house, a great job, fabulous bosses, amazing kitties, and I'm really progressing with my yoga. But I'm still kinda down in the dumps.
One thing that massively helped with the blues: dinner and drinks with Keebs.
Keebs is a friend from a long time ago. I don't see her nearly enough. Sure, we talk enough on IM and through texting, but it's not the same.
Tonight, we hang out. She gave me bling, I gave her bling. The bling she gave me was way better - I feel massively guilty.
We had such a great time. I know that there is a common reaction to girls who are extra loud at a bar. But we were seriously, legitimately laughing out loud. C'mon -- we're two girls in advertising and there was a cute bartender and a bottle of DiSaronno. Do you NOT see the funny in that?
Still, I guess we were a little too loud. Because at one point, I tried to engage Le Cute Bartender. To decidedly no avail. And given that we'd just left him a $10 tip on a $30 tab, that was a little wierd. And, yea, it bugged me out.
I should be the kind of person that knows that hanging with a good friend and sharing very real belly laughs with her should be enough. I should be the kind of person that doesn't care about a random, stranger bartender's reaction to my existence.
So why was I so ticked off?
I guess, because I'm only human. And I'm only female.
Drat.
Upon returning to life in the real world, well, it's a little of this and a little of that. Superficially, all should be really really well. I have a great house, a great job, fabulous bosses, amazing kitties, and I'm really progressing with my yoga. But I'm still kinda down in the dumps.
One thing that massively helped with the blues: dinner and drinks with Keebs.
Keebs is a friend from a long time ago. I don't see her nearly enough. Sure, we talk enough on IM and through texting, but it's not the same.
Tonight, we hang out. She gave me bling, I gave her bling. The bling she gave me was way better - I feel massively guilty.
We had such a great time. I know that there is a common reaction to girls who are extra loud at a bar. But we were seriously, legitimately laughing out loud. C'mon -- we're two girls in advertising and there was a cute bartender and a bottle of DiSaronno. Do you NOT see the funny in that?
Still, I guess we were a little too loud. Because at one point, I tried to engage Le Cute Bartender. To decidedly no avail. And given that we'd just left him a $10 tip on a $30 tab, that was a little wierd. And, yea, it bugged me out.
I should be the kind of person that knows that hanging with a good friend and sharing very real belly laughs with her should be enough. I should be the kind of person that doesn't care about a random, stranger bartender's reaction to my existence.
So why was I so ticked off?
I guess, because I'm only human. And I'm only female.
Drat.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Merry KwanzYulAnaka
Tis the season to be jolly. And to get caught up in commercialism. And other isms. Especially (if you're a Blowhard O'Reilly fan) getting caught up in hating secularism. There's been a lot of loaded rhetoric regarding religion swirling around my life lately. I'm not sure what to make of it, but here's some examples:
I'm still reading Lamb. And still loving it.
There was a story on NPR about a woman who prefers to sing Eagles tunes in the public park instead of caroling.
There was the bru-ha-ha about the Connecticut Valley Atheists and their poster.
There's the omnipresent "Mother Who Has God on Speed Dial" issues.
And then there's my friend at work who's having MIL issues b/c she is convinced if he and his wife don't raise their sons Christian, they're evil.
I'm not sure why there's so many people out there offended at this time of year because they're religion isn't accepted/adopted/respected by people of other (or no) religion. Just because it's a holy day to you, doesn't mean that everyone has to suddently "see the light."
It's especially apparent to me this year because I am completely unable to get into the "holiday spirit." Despite all my best intentions - and efforts - I'm pretty darn depressed. Christmas just doesn't seem to mean as much when you don't have someone(s) special to share it with. And although I have such wonderful, caring, supportive friends and family, let's face it. I live in a new town and work in a new job and don't have a whole lot of day-to-day meaningful interactions with people I can physically see.
But I what isn't surprising is how buying lots of trinkets and toys isn't doing anything to lift my spirits. Somehow I'm having a hard time worrying about buying my mother another DVD when there are lots of families in town far worse off than I (hopefully) will ever be.
I think this post on a message board says it pretty well:
Maybe it's not Atheists who are perpetrating the "War on Christmas," Maybe it's Hallmark and Wal Mart and Best Buy who pump all those snowy, cheery, fun-filled ads for gift ideas into their heads, all before their overindulgent sugar-high wears off from trick-or-treating. And in case you haven't noticed, they're all using "Holidays" in their commercials because they have a panel of public relations experts who realize that there are a lot of people who don't get down with Jesus that spend a lot of money in December.
Even if you think Jesus is the Reason for the Season, the original reason for the season - in whichever religion you belong to - was to celebrate the return of the light. And to help bring the light into all aspects of our lives and others. And not to, say, go shopping.
I'm still reading Lamb. And still loving it.
There was a story on NPR about a woman who prefers to sing Eagles tunes in the public park instead of caroling.
There was the bru-ha-ha about the Connecticut Valley Atheists and their poster.
There's the omnipresent "Mother Who Has God on Speed Dial" issues.
And then there's my friend at work who's having MIL issues b/c she is convinced if he and his wife don't raise their sons Christian, they're evil.
I'm not sure why there's so many people out there offended at this time of year because they're religion isn't accepted/adopted/respected by people of other (or no) religion. Just because it's a holy day to you, doesn't mean that everyone has to suddently "see the light."
It's especially apparent to me this year because I am completely unable to get into the "holiday spirit." Despite all my best intentions - and efforts - I'm pretty darn depressed. Christmas just doesn't seem to mean as much when you don't have someone(s) special to share it with. And although I have such wonderful, caring, supportive friends and family, let's face it. I live in a new town and work in a new job and don't have a whole lot of day-to-day meaningful interactions with people I can physically see.
But I what isn't surprising is how buying lots of trinkets and toys isn't doing anything to lift my spirits. Somehow I'm having a hard time worrying about buying my mother another DVD when there are lots of families in town far worse off than I (hopefully) will ever be.
I think this post on a message board says it pretty well:
Maybe it's not Atheists who are perpetrating the "War on Christmas," Maybe it's Hallmark and Wal Mart and Best Buy who pump all those snowy, cheery, fun-filled ads for gift ideas into their heads, all before their overindulgent sugar-high wears off from trick-or-treating. And in case you haven't noticed, they're all using "Holidays" in their commercials because they have a panel of public relations experts who realize that there are a lot of people who don't get down with Jesus that spend a lot of money in December.
Even if you think Jesus is the Reason for the Season, the original reason for the season - in whichever religion you belong to - was to celebrate the return of the light. And to help bring the light into all aspects of our lives and others. And not to, say, go shopping.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The Stone You Can't Get Blood From and Other Quotes
A collection of random thoughts which, if I weren't so mentally exhausted, might tie together in a cohesiveness. (I coalesce the vapors of human existence into a viable and meaningful logic. Oh, a Bullshit artist!)
I am extremely, severly, and massively broke. This would not quite be the case if old landlord got off his duff and mailed me the check for the almost $2000 he owes me. And I've called him about this. Twice. To no end, alas. And I know that I should really be more emphatic. After all, I never asked for more time when I wrote out my rent check. But everytime I think about that, there's the little voice of Alastair Sim in my head. "Did I ask for more time in loaning you the money? You'd be in no better position to pay me if it were the middle of a heat wave on an August Bank Holiday." What to do?
I got my eyebrows waxed today. And had a great time chatting w/ the beautician who has a similar situation to the Mr. Zips debaucle. Except she put up with hers for four years. He lived with her rent free, utilities free, chore free for three years. No questions asked. It really makes me wonder why women feel like they need to deal with sub-par situations. What do we lack in self-esteem or self-worth that we will put up with so much for such inferior repayment? (And I'm not only talking about the money here. It's also that women spend so much energy thinking of the other person and - it seems - so often get little consideration in return. But that's my own unresolved baggage...) And why? I have no answers. But she was very nice. And she's a waitress at the local Outback and offered to set me up w/ a part time gig, should I feel its' necessary. It's not like I really want to work at a beef joint, but it could pay some bills for a few weeks anyway. Of course, hilarity could ensue:
Scene: waitress approches man at a table in a crowded restaurant. Man: "Are your steaks here good?" Waitress: "Well, that depends. Do you call dead flesh rotting between your teeth and the environmental destruction that comes from synthetic hormones and antibiotics polluting our ecosystem good? Then, yeah, our steaks are AWESOME. Like a hot dog."
Do I really want to sell out and work at a steak restaurant? No. But I also don't want to have a -$84 balance in my account two days away from payday ever again..
I hate that this whole month seems to revolve around money. Instead of spending energy caring about others. That I am caught up worrying about bank accounts instead of how I can spread love and cheer among humanity. Alas, "Make a buck, make a buck."
It reminds me of the brilliant words from the late Mr. Douglas Adams:
This planet has—or rather had—a problem, which was this: most of the people on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
I am extremely, severly, and massively broke. This would not quite be the case if old landlord got off his duff and mailed me the check for the almost $2000 he owes me. And I've called him about this. Twice. To no end, alas. And I know that I should really be more emphatic. After all, I never asked for more time when I wrote out my rent check. But everytime I think about that, there's the little voice of Alastair Sim in my head. "Did I ask for more time in loaning you the money? You'd be in no better position to pay me if it were the middle of a heat wave on an August Bank Holiday." What to do?
I got my eyebrows waxed today. And had a great time chatting w/ the beautician who has a similar situation to the Mr. Zips debaucle. Except she put up with hers for four years. He lived with her rent free, utilities free, chore free for three years. No questions asked. It really makes me wonder why women feel like they need to deal with sub-par situations. What do we lack in self-esteem or self-worth that we will put up with so much for such inferior repayment? (And I'm not only talking about the money here. It's also that women spend so much energy thinking of the other person and - it seems - so often get little consideration in return. But that's my own unresolved baggage...) And why? I have no answers. But she was very nice. And she's a waitress at the local Outback and offered to set me up w/ a part time gig, should I feel its' necessary. It's not like I really want to work at a beef joint, but it could pay some bills for a few weeks anyway. Of course, hilarity could ensue:
Scene: waitress approches man at a table in a crowded restaurant. Man: "Are your steaks here good?" Waitress: "Well, that depends. Do you call dead flesh rotting between your teeth and the environmental destruction that comes from synthetic hormones and antibiotics polluting our ecosystem good? Then, yeah, our steaks are AWESOME. Like a hot dog."
Do I really want to sell out and work at a steak restaurant? No. But I also don't want to have a -$84 balance in my account two days away from payday ever again..
I hate that this whole month seems to revolve around money. Instead of spending energy caring about others. That I am caught up worrying about bank accounts instead of how I can spread love and cheer among humanity. Alas, "Make a buck, make a buck."
It reminds me of the brilliant words from the late Mr. Douglas Adams:
This planet has—or rather had—a problem, which was this: most of the people on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Is That a Bottle of Bud in Your Pocket?
So, I've long maintained that I've had a touch of the psychic. Chalk another one up for the Kalesmeister.
Yesterday, I had *that* distinct feeling. The antsy, edgy, frenetic feeling I get when something is about to go down in my life of a personal nature. I can trace this feeling all the way back to RowerMan - and that's a LONG time ago.
But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what was bringing this feeling on. There was no reason to expect that anything monumental would be going down.
Then, at 4 o'clock a blast from the past showed up on IM.
This guy is supposed to be dead. Seriously. I kid you not. Five years ago - when we saw each other last - he informed me that he had months, if not weeks, to live.
So I was a bit shocked when he invited me out for drinks.
I went. And after an hour and change of Losers Club Tries to Give Old Flame Directions to the TGI Fridays in Woburn .... we met up.
All in all, it was a great time. I stayed out way past my bedtime, but the evening was five years in the making. And although I look worse for the wear this a.m., I still probably look a lot better than he does. A life of scuba diving and Bud Light isn't a recipe for well-being. On the other hand, practicing yoga every day and cutting way back on the Jack Daniels has been pretty good to me.
That all said - he's still wickedly funny, insanely intelligent, disarmingly sweet and not all that bad on the eyes. It's nice to know that he's clearly still thinking about me after all this time.
It was a huge confidence builder. Just what I needed as I prepare to make my entrance onto the North Shore social scene come the new year.
And it didn't suck that he still makes me laugh and still turns me on. Who knows, he might even call me again. If he calls, that would be nice. He's got two boats now, so at the very least, I could get some playtime on the water. If he doesn't call, well, he picked up the tab so it wasn't a complete loss.
It sounds so cynical when I write it all down. But, knowing that when he walked out of my life last I became a bourbon-soaked lump of worthless-feeling despondency, it feels pretty good to know he can walk in or out and all I'm worried about is the few hours of laughs and good conversation I might get out of it.
Look at me, bein all strong!
And, now, for a nap...
Yesterday, I had *that* distinct feeling. The antsy, edgy, frenetic feeling I get when something is about to go down in my life of a personal nature. I can trace this feeling all the way back to RowerMan - and that's a LONG time ago.
But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what was bringing this feeling on. There was no reason to expect that anything monumental would be going down.
Then, at 4 o'clock a blast from the past showed up on IM.
This guy is supposed to be dead. Seriously. I kid you not. Five years ago - when we saw each other last - he informed me that he had months, if not weeks, to live.
So I was a bit shocked when he invited me out for drinks.
I went. And after an hour and change of Losers Club Tries to Give Old Flame Directions to the TGI Fridays in Woburn .... we met up.
All in all, it was a great time. I stayed out way past my bedtime, but the evening was five years in the making. And although I look worse for the wear this a.m., I still probably look a lot better than he does. A life of scuba diving and Bud Light isn't a recipe for well-being. On the other hand, practicing yoga every day and cutting way back on the Jack Daniels has been pretty good to me.
That all said - he's still wickedly funny, insanely intelligent, disarmingly sweet and not all that bad on the eyes. It's nice to know that he's clearly still thinking about me after all this time.
It was a huge confidence builder. Just what I needed as I prepare to make my entrance onto the North Shore social scene come the new year.
And it didn't suck that he still makes me laugh and still turns me on. Who knows, he might even call me again. If he calls, that would be nice. He's got two boats now, so at the very least, I could get some playtime on the water. If he doesn't call, well, he picked up the tab so it wasn't a complete loss.
It sounds so cynical when I write it all down. But, knowing that when he walked out of my life last I became a bourbon-soaked lump of worthless-feeling despondency, it feels pretty good to know he can walk in or out and all I'm worried about is the few hours of laughs and good conversation I might get out of it.
Look at me, bein all strong!
And, now, for a nap...
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
The Secret
I was chatting with a good friend yesterday about her "issues" with her current boyfriend which, in a lot of ways, resemble some of the issues I had with Mr. Zips. I guess a lot of this stuff is hardwired for men and women. Yeah, yeah, Venus/Mars - I know.
Talking with her, I once again found myself disliking this man, even though I've met him and he seems very nice. You see, she only tells me about their problems. The stuff he does that bothers/annoys/upsets her. Or the ways in which he doesn't meet her needs. I very seldom hear about the great things he says or does that make him a great boyfriend. And so, since I only hear one side, I wind up not liking him very much.
I know that I often did the same with her regarding my relationship w/ Mr. Zips. I kinda do it the same way for this blog and my entire life.
I went through today and peeked at some (very) old posts on a whim. And, altho there are a decent number of posts about how happy I am or how good life is, there's also a lot of posts where I'm bitching, moaning, and otherwise whining. (But I always try to do it in a funny way. Well, at least, sorta...)
Why do we, as humans, so often vocalize the negative? Why, when people ask how things are, do we immediately launch into how tired/frustrated/achey/etc. we are?
Wouldn't it be better to launch into how wonderful and beautiful life is?
Resolved: from this moment forward I will do my best to see the glass as half full.
This weekend, Deb quoted this from Marianne Williamson. I think it says it all:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Talking with her, I once again found myself disliking this man, even though I've met him and he seems very nice. You see, she only tells me about their problems. The stuff he does that bothers/annoys/upsets her. Or the ways in which he doesn't meet her needs. I very seldom hear about the great things he says or does that make him a great boyfriend. And so, since I only hear one side, I wind up not liking him very much.
I know that I often did the same with her regarding my relationship w/ Mr. Zips. I kinda do it the same way for this blog and my entire life.
I went through today and peeked at some (very) old posts on a whim. And, altho there are a decent number of posts about how happy I am or how good life is, there's also a lot of posts where I'm bitching, moaning, and otherwise whining. (But I always try to do it in a funny way. Well, at least, sorta...)
Why do we, as humans, so often vocalize the negative? Why, when people ask how things are, do we immediately launch into how tired/frustrated/achey/etc. we are?
Wouldn't it be better to launch into how wonderful and beautiful life is?
Resolved: from this moment forward I will do my best to see the glass as half full.
This weekend, Deb quoted this from Marianne Williamson. I think it says it all:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
All I Want for Christmas...
I pretty much got this weekend....
An amazing day of yoga on Saturday. Class with Deb was (shocking!) amazing and the meditation about "Living a Radical Life" was (more shocking!) exactly what I needed. And while the asana portion of the class wasn't as difficult as I was hoping, it was really great to spend time focusing on the precise alignments and universal principals. (That said, if I don't do another chutarunga for a couple of days, I'll be a VERY happy camper!)
Gull and Boat on Bearskin Neck
An amazing day of yoga on Saturday. Class with Deb was (shocking!) amazing and the meditation about "Living a Radical Life" was (more shocking!) exactly what I needed. And while the asana portion of the class wasn't as difficult as I was hoping, it was really great to spend time focusing on the precise alignments and universal principals. (That said, if I don't do another chutarunga for a couple of days, I'll be a VERY happy camper!)
And today, I went up to Rockport w/ HypnoGal and Mrs. H. Much fun was had as we oogled sparkly things. HypnoGal even gave me an awesomenessly awesome housewarming gift - a matted and framed B&W photo of a beautiful Misty Tree that she took herself. How perfect! It's definitely getting pride of place in my wonderful new apartment.
And as we chatted and walked and sipped our coffee, I was struck again by how amazing it is that I live here.
I feel so unbelievably blessed. This is, for sure, what the holidays are all about. Health, happiness, comfort, joy.
Here's some photo memories:
HypnoGal shows off MadSkilllz
PS -- Forgot to mention the guy that works in the Tibetan store.... We anticipate having to do much purchasing of Tibetan goods this year.... *grin*
Friday, November 30, 2007
Just in Time
I am ridiculously busy at work. This is impeccable timing, as I finished NaNo yesterday and managed to get the marketing freelance proposal done as well.
The project that's got me so crazed? Rewriting the website. Ostomy supplies. Glucose meters. Lancing devices. (No lie, the current site describes on test kit as "easy, accurate, convenient, simple, and unique." Me Write Copy Good.) I cannot tell you the sexiness that is my life...
While I'm pondering my copy strategy, I often surf the net. I can do this without actually concentrating on what I'm looking at, so that my mind is actually focusing on how best to position ordering your AUTODISC meter from Wilford Brimley.... I don't actually read anything meaningful or important, of course. Because here's my dirty little secret - I browse online menus.
Yep. I can spend hours downloading and perusing menus for restaurants I will never visit.
I informed my dad the other day that Friendly's now offers veggie burgers. I do not need to know this. But, if I need to stop at a Friendly's ever again, I am all set.
It's a bit like this shameful secret posted on From Oy to Vey: Butter my Bread?
I suppose its better than downloading porn. Right?
The project that's got me so crazed? Rewriting the
While I'm pondering my copy strategy, I often surf the net. I can do this without actually concentrating on what I'm looking at, so that my mind is actually focusing on how best to position ordering your AUTODISC meter from Wilford Brimley.... I don't actually read anything meaningful or important, of course. Because here's my dirty little secret - I browse online menus.
Yep. I can spend hours downloading and perusing menus for restaurants I will never visit.
I informed my dad the other day that Friendly's now offers veggie burgers. I do not need to know this. But, if I need to stop at a Friendly's ever again, I am all set.
It's a bit like this shameful secret posted on From Oy to Vey: Butter my Bread?
I suppose its better than downloading porn. Right?
Thursday, November 29, 2007
I Dud Itz!
At 11:27 a.m. (don't tell my boss!) I crossed the finish line and uploaded a 50,112 word novel excerpt to the NaNoWriMo website. The novel isn't done yet and I fully intend to finish it. But the point is, I won. I committed to writing 50 THOUSAND words during the month of November and, one day early, I did it.
Catharsis
Finally find out why I've been so tired. Turns out my iron count is WAAAAAY low. Not only could I not give blood, but they asked me if I wanted to get some. (kidding) I'm not sure why the anemia is rearing its ugly head again. Stress? Lack of access to fresh, organic kale? Does bourbon have iron in it? (I KNEW I shouldn't have stopped drinking!) Seriously, though, this explains a lot about what's been going on with me lately.
Part of the problem is, despite being so unbelievably exhausted, I've been feeling very stressed about my lack of preparation for the Christmas holiday. Anyone who knows me knows that I am Christmas Girl. I love the movies, the songs, the lights - all of it. I even enjoy going to the mall around the holidays, even if I have no shopping to do. I LOVE the Christmas spirit.
But I spent yesterday panicking about when I'm going to have enough free time to decorate my apartment, when I'll have a chance to watch the classics, when (in short) I'm going to have time to get into the holiday season.
Then, once again, everything I needed fell into my lap. I tried out a new yoga class and it was amazing. During my favorite-to-say pose - Eka Pada Rajakapotasana - I surrendered and started crying. And then I got home and The Grinch was on TV.
I sat on my new comfy couch, Peeps on my laps, and sang the Who Christmas song and cried and cried and cried.
And then I went to bed. I was asleep by 9:30.
Need I say? I feel great this morning.
Part of the problem is, despite being so unbelievably exhausted, I've been feeling very stressed about my lack of preparation for the Christmas holiday. Anyone who knows me knows that I am Christmas Girl. I love the movies, the songs, the lights - all of it. I even enjoy going to the mall around the holidays, even if I have no shopping to do. I LOVE the Christmas spirit.
But I spent yesterday panicking about when I'm going to have enough free time to decorate my apartment, when I'll have a chance to watch the classics, when (in short) I'm going to have time to get into the holiday season.
Then, once again, everything I needed fell into my lap. I tried out a new yoga class and it was amazing. During my favorite-to-say pose - Eka Pada Rajakapotasana - I surrendered and started crying. And then I got home and The Grinch was on TV.
I sat on my new comfy couch, Peeps on my laps, and sang the Who Christmas song and cried and cried and cried.
And then I went to bed. I was asleep by 9:30.
Need I say? I feel great this morning.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
New Stuffage
As part of my commitment to making my new house a home, I invested in previously mentioned furniture. To prove how wise a decision this was, I offer these before and after photos.
New couch:
Methinks I made a great decision. What do you think?
And here's my new office. Sigh more.
Old couch:
New couch:
Methinks I made a great decision. What do you think?
The best part (well, the best part is how comfortable it is. But the second best part) is that a friend of mine got in touch with me and asked me to freelance for his dad's company. I'm putting together a proposal now and, if all goes well (and there's no reason it shouldn't) I'll get the gig AND the paycheck. Under the table. Hello new living room set all paid for. No baseball required.
I just love how the Universe takes care of me.
Oh yea, just for kicks. Here's the view from the beach that's exactly .75 miles from my new home. Sigh.
And here's my new office. Sigh more.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Homes and Such
I am back safe and sound from New Jersey. And cheers to Amtrak for offering a far superior, far more civilized alternative to air travel. Despite the flamboyant theatre major who sat opposite me on the trip down and broke into showtunes apropos of nothing, it was a fairly uneventful trip there and back.
All in all, it was an uneventful weekend for the most part. My uncle is, not surprisingly, still a racist and a bigot and, even though I informed him several times that I was a flaming liberal, he didn't get my warning and kept saying things that more than enraged my sense of propriety. Here's hoping the NSA hasn't actually wiretapped me or my parents' home.
I got into a small argument with my mother that was fairly consistent as far as our arguments go. I get upset because she says/does something that makes it all about her. She asks why I'm upset. I tell her. She makes it all about her. I get more upset. She cries. (Variation here is to fake a heartattack, collapse, or otherwise indicate an imminent death.) I relent and apologize. She makes it all about her. We both end crying, telling each other we love each other. I understand EXACTLY how unhealthy this pattern is, but there you have it. Family dynamics at play.
This time, the argument started when I mentioned that it hurt that they were acting like I should have my shit entirely together when, um, I just 1) had my heart trounced 2) started a new job 3) moved to a new house 4) in a new town. Somehow, this turned into a 10 minute sob fest on how much she missed my aunt and how she will never have a friend like her again and how lonely she is without my aunt to talk to and how she thinks about her every day and will never get over her death. I mean, don't get me wrong. I am very sad that my darling mom feels this way, but it was kinda beside the point of the discussion in the first place. N'est-ce pas?
(Note: for those that think I'm a cold hearted biotch, let me point out that my aunt passed 10 years ago. Still sad, but not exactly a fresh wound.)
But I'm happy to report that that was the low point of the weekend. We still managed to have a great time at Kids' Day, although I took the world's WORST PHOTO EVER. I hid for a few hours on Turkey Day itself and got some novelling done. And, I hung out with Best Friend in Taco Bell for 2 and a half hours, like you do. (Oh, yea, losers club mixes up their grilled stufft burrito's, but that's another story. BF, I'm sorry you had to watch me dig chicken out of a bean-filled tortilla!)
Now, I'm back at home and thrilled to be here. I'm still adjusting to life in a northern town, but I am filled with hope that it won't be long before it really does feel like a home. Because every year, NJ feels less and less like home. It's sad. But it's true. This little girl is growing up.
All in all, it was an uneventful weekend for the most part. My uncle is, not surprisingly, still a racist and a bigot and, even though I informed him several times that I was a flaming liberal, he didn't get my warning and kept saying things that more than enraged my sense of propriety. Here's hoping the NSA hasn't actually wiretapped me or my parents' home.
I got into a small argument with my mother that was fairly consistent as far as our arguments go. I get upset because she says/does something that makes it all about her. She asks why I'm upset. I tell her. She makes it all about her. I get more upset. She cries. (Variation here is to fake a heartattack, collapse, or otherwise indicate an imminent death.) I relent and apologize. She makes it all about her. We both end crying, telling each other we love each other. I understand EXACTLY how unhealthy this pattern is, but there you have it. Family dynamics at play.
This time, the argument started when I mentioned that it hurt that they were acting like I should have my shit entirely together when, um, I just 1) had my heart trounced 2) started a new job 3) moved to a new house 4) in a new town. Somehow, this turned into a 10 minute sob fest on how much she missed my aunt and how she will never have a friend like her again and how lonely she is without my aunt to talk to and how she thinks about her every day and will never get over her death. I mean, don't get me wrong. I am very sad that my darling mom feels this way, but it was kinda beside the point of the discussion in the first place. N'est-ce pas?
(Note: for those that think I'm a cold hearted biotch, let me point out that my aunt passed 10 years ago. Still sad, but not exactly a fresh wound.)
But I'm happy to report that that was the low point of the weekend. We still managed to have a great time at Kids' Day, although I took the world's WORST PHOTO EVER. I hid for a few hours on Turkey Day itself and got some novelling done. And, I hung out with Best Friend in Taco Bell for 2 and a half hours, like you do. (Oh, yea, losers club mixes up their grilled stufft burrito's, but that's another story. BF, I'm sorry you had to watch me dig chicken out of a bean-filled tortilla!)
Now, I'm back at home and thrilled to be here. I'm still adjusting to life in a northern town, but I am filled with hope that it won't be long before it really does feel like a home. Because every year, NJ feels less and less like home. It's sad. But it's true. This little girl is growing up.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Tis the Season to be Jolly and Joyous
Fa La La La.
Bonus points if you can name the movie that's from.....
It's almost here, my favorite day of the year. And I should be happy and frolicking and greatly anticipating the stuffing, the pie, and Miracle on 34th Street viewage (the original, if you please). And I am. At least theoretically I'm looking forward to it.
Too bad I am so damn tired.
This weekend wore me out. The furniture arranging and rearranging. (Pictures to follow). The cooking, cooking, and more endless cooking. The meeting random people at a party and smiling politely for more than an hour while strangers made overly emotional and sentimental speeches extolling one another's virtues. The highlight of my weekend was going running along the beach which was unbelievably gorgeous and inspiring but, not surprisingly, also tiring. I went to bed by 10 p.m. only to be awakened repeatedly by my next door neighbor watching the game, loudly, with his buddies.
It doesn't help that it's week three of NaNo which is traditionally the time that most authors crash and burn. I've had my document open all day and only managed to write another 1K or so words.... I keep saying that I'll write on the train on the way to NJ, but I know that I will likely get lulled to sleep by the motion. That is, if I'm lucky enough to get a seat....
I wish I weren't this cranky. I wish I was full of joll and joy.
But for now, I just want to escape home onto my comfy new couch and curl up for a warm winter's nap. Too bad I've got spinning first. And I must spin. Peanut butter pie made an appearance at the party. And you know what the only thing better than peanut butter pie is? More peanut butter pie.
PS -- Muppets Chri
stmas Carol. Of course....
Bonus points if you can name the movie that's from.....
It's almost here, my favorite day of the year. And I should be happy and frolicking and greatly anticipating the stuffing, the pie, and Miracle on 34th Street viewage (the original, if you please). And I am. At least theoretically I'm looking forward to it.
Too bad I am so damn tired.
This weekend wore me out. The furniture arranging and rearranging. (Pictures to follow). The cooking, cooking, and more endless cooking. The meeting random people at a party and smiling politely for more than an hour while strangers made overly emotional and sentimental speeches extolling one another's virtues. The highlight of my weekend was going running along the beach which was unbelievably gorgeous and inspiring but, not surprisingly, also tiring. I went to bed by 10 p.m. only to be awakened repeatedly by my next door neighbor watching the game, loudly, with his buddies.
It doesn't help that it's week three of NaNo which is traditionally the time that most authors crash and burn. I've had my document open all day and only managed to write another 1K or so words.... I keep saying that I'll write on the train on the way to NJ, but I know that I will likely get lulled to sleep by the motion. That is, if I'm lucky enough to get a seat....
I wish I weren't this cranky. I wish I was full of joll and joy.
But for now, I just want to escape home onto my comfy new couch and curl up for a warm winter's nap. Too bad I've got spinning first. And I must spin. Peanut butter pie made an appearance at the party. And you know what the only thing better than peanut butter pie is? More peanut butter pie.
PS -- Muppets Chri
stmas Carol. Of course....
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Pros and Cons
So, it's been a busy month for ole Kalesy. New job, new apartment, new town, and now ...
NEW LIVING RO
OM SET!
Yep, I did it. Heck, I'm already $4k in debt, why not be $6? I got a big fat raise, right? (ha!) But, seriously, I got so tired of walking into my wonderful new apartment and thinking, Damn! I hate my sofa. None of my furniture goes together and I just don't like anything. So, a trip to Jordan's later, and all new stuff will arrive on Saturday. Ooh Bah.
This makes me happy because it will arrive just in time for the holidays. But sad, because it will arrive just in time for the holidays.
I have one of the busiest next couple of weeks ever on tap. Furniture delivery, NaNo, trips to NJ, no days off work, and - oh yea - trying to improve my yoga practice in there somewhere. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.
And, to top it off, I've been invited to a co-worker's pre-Thanksgiving party this Saturday. Not only is it BYOB and a potluck, but it's a $20 cover! I really SHOULD go - it's good for the career b/c lots of work people will be there, my boss is really into us seeming like a family and I've really got no good excuse not to. Unless madly, desperately, completely NOT wanting to is a good excuse...
I'm so tired. I have to make my entire Thanksgiving dinner and somehow transport it on Amtrak to NJ. The last thing I want to do is make an additional meal and then pay $20 for the privilege of sharing it....
I sound like a crank pot. I realize this. Can I blame it on Wilford?
If I go, I might meet wonderful, fun, amazing people. If I don't go, I might get some sleep. If I do go, it might be awful and I'll spend the whole time being a wallflower wishing I hadn't gone. If I don't go, I might lose a powerful professional opportunity.
Decisions decisions.
While I ponder, I will look at pictures of my new stuff.... *sigh* (Ignore the hideous lamp above...)
NEW LIVING RO
OM SET!Yep, I did it. Heck, I'm already $4k in debt, why not be $6? I got a big fat raise, right? (ha!) But, seriously, I got so tired of walking into my wonderful new apartment and thinking, Damn! I hate my sofa. None of my furniture goes together and I just don't like anything. So, a trip to Jordan's later, and all new stuff will arrive on Saturday. Ooh Bah.
This makes me happy because it will arrive just in time for the holidays. But sad, because it will arrive just in time for the holidays.
I have one of the busiest next couple of weeks ever on tap. Furniture delivery, NaNo, trips to NJ, no days off work, and - oh yea - trying to improve my yoga practice in there somewhere. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.
And, to top it off, I've been invited to a co-worker's pre-Thanksgiving party this Saturday. Not only is it BYOB and a potluck, but it's a $20 cover! I really SHOULD go - it's good for the career b/c lots of work people will be there, my boss is really into us seeming like a family and I've really got no good excuse not to. Unless madly, desperately, completely NOT wanting to is a good excuse...
I'm so tired. I have to make my entire Thanksgiving dinner and somehow transport it on Amtrak to NJ. The last thing I want to do is make an additional meal and then pay $20 for the privilege of sharing it....
I sound like a crank pot. I realize this. Can I blame it on Wilford?
If I go, I might meet wonderful, fun, amazing people. If I don't go, I might get some sleep. If I do go, it might be awful and I'll spend the whole time being a wallflower wishing I hadn't gone. If I don't go, I might lose a powerful professional opportunity.
Decisions decisions.
While I ponder, I will look at pictures of my new stuff.... *sigh* (Ignore the hideous lamp above...)
Monday, November 12, 2007
Semper Fi and Thanks
Today is the official observation of Veteran's Day. In this time of war, Veteran's Day should - and does - mean more than a sale on cars and mattresses.
There have been many eloquent and poignant words of thanks spoken for our men and women protecting our way of life. I have no such eloquence to offer.
On Friday, I received an American flag from the local newspaper distributor. It was part of their "Welcome to the neighborhood / Subscribe to our newspaper" direct response package. I don't know what to do with it. The cynical part of me - the same part that sees someone wearing a cross around their neck and earmarks them for a bible-thumping, right-wing nutjob - wants me to run far, far away from the colors that don't run. The other part of me wants to fly it proudly, thankful for the truths this country stands (stood?) for.
And so, on this Veteran's Day, I find myself conflicted. How do I feel about America? I am proud that I can evaluate candidates and determine who to vote for without being under marshal law. I am sad that we are still involved in an occupation that isn't helping us, the country we're occupying, or anyone in between. I am proud that I can march on our nation's capital and sad that so few do.
So, my hesitant conclusion is that, although I might just pretend to be Canadian (or say "Scooby Doo!") when abroad, I know that I truly love this country and the ideals it stands for.
Thus, to all our men and women who "stand on a wall and tell us nothing bad's gonna happen tonight, not on our watch," ... I say Thank You.
And, to one special Army National Guardsman, I say a special thanks. You know why.
There have been many eloquent and poignant words of thanks spoken for our men and women protecting our way of life. I have no such eloquence to offer.
On Friday, I received an American flag from the local newspaper distributor. It was part of their "Welcome to the neighborhood / Subscribe to our newspaper" direct response package. I don't know what to do with it. The cynical part of me - the same part that sees someone wearing a cross around their neck and earmarks them for a bible-thumping, right-wing nutjob - wants me to run far, far away from the colors that don't run. The other part of me wants to fly it proudly, thankful for the truths this country stands (stood?) for.
And so, on this Veteran's Day, I find myself conflicted. How do I feel about America? I am proud that I can evaluate candidates and determine who to vote for without being under marshal law. I am sad that we are still involved in an occupation that isn't helping us, the country we're occupying, or anyone in between. I am proud that I can march on our nation's capital and sad that so few do.
So, my hesitant conclusion is that, although I might just pretend to be Canadian (or say "Scooby Doo!") when abroad, I know that I truly love this country and the ideals it stands for.
Thus, to all our men and women who "stand on a wall and tell us nothing bad's gonna happen tonight, not on our watch," ... I say Thank You.
And, to one special Army National Guardsman, I say a special thanks. You know why.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
NaNo Is Eating My Soul
I'm one-third of the way through NaNo. And I'm happy to report that I'm currently over my projected word count. But not for long. Because I'm sitting in a coffeeshop and - ACK! - I have writer's block.
Maybe I just need to take a break. After all, my life has become writing and the gym. Writing at work. Writing after work. Writing at home. And the gym in between. Not much more. (Well, I'm still listening to NPR, but that's a given....)
The thing is, despite not knowing what to do with my novel, I'm re-writing everything else in the world around me. I was on the elliptical and found myself disagreeing with the plot twist in King of Queens. I rented Home for the Holidays last night and found myself completely changing the characterization between Robert Downey Jr. and Holly Hunter. (There's no WAY he wouldn't have invited her to his wedding. Right?) I'm even writing dialogue for the people sitting at the table behind me. (Because if he says one more thing about how cold it is outside, I'm gonna scream!)
So, not sure what to do about this conundrum inside of a puzzle, wrapped up in an enigma. Any ideas?
Maybe I just need to take a break. After all, my life has become writing and the gym. Writing at work. Writing after work. Writing at home. And the gym in between. Not much more. (Well, I'm still listening to NPR, but that's a given....)
The thing is, despite not knowing what to do with my novel, I'm re-writing everything else in the world around me. I was on the elliptical and found myself disagreeing with the plot twist in King of Queens. I rented Home for the Holidays last night and found myself completely changing the characterization between Robert Downey Jr. and Holly Hunter. (There's no WAY he wouldn't have invited her to his wedding. Right?) I'm even writing dialogue for the people sitting at the table behind me. (Because if he says one more thing about how cold it is outside, I'm gonna scream!)
So, not sure what to do about this conundrum inside of a puzzle, wrapped up in an enigma. Any ideas?
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
I Wish I Were a Better Yogini
Sure, on the surface, I look like a great student of yoga. I've been to three classes in as many days. Two of them Anusara. I even registered for another weekend intensive with Deb. So, yeah, I look like a great yogini. 'Cept I'm not.
During aforemention Wilfordpalooza, they served pizza. It's been a long time since I had pizza. I ate three pieces. While this may not seem overly outrageous, I was the only woman in the room who went back for thirds. So the guilt was a flowin. Thus, when it came time to yoga class, I was not holding back. Give me heat, give me an extra vinyasa, give me holding a pose one, two, three more breaths. I practically worked myself into the ground.
Today, I was pretty damn sore. Not to mention, emotionally I had a rough day. I arrived early to class and tried - really tried - to center myself. And I was doing a fairly good job. But then we did frog pose, which is a GINORMOUS hip opener. And my hips opened. And, as we all know, our hips hold LOTS of memories. And all I wanted to do was assume balasana and cry like a baby. But everyone else in class was moving on, progressing. I should keep up. Must. Do. Asana.
I'm getting used to a new job, moving into a new home in a new town, trying to write a novel in a month, and getting used to an entirely new schedule. This is probably the best time in the world for me to practice compassion with myself.
Instead, I'm pushing myself to the limit and probably not doing myself any favors (except for staying in the same weight class).
If I were truly a "good" yogini, I would be gentle with myself. Express gratitude with myself. For finding some time - any time - to practice and not stressing about it.
Hopefully - just maybe? - coming to this realization is one step closer to actually embodying it.
During aforemention Wilfordpalooza, they served pizza. It's been a long time since I had pizza. I ate three pieces. While this may not seem overly outrageous, I was the only woman in the room who went back for thirds. So the guilt was a flowin. Thus, when it came time to yoga class, I was not holding back. Give me heat, give me an extra vinyasa, give me holding a pose one, two, three more breaths. I practically worked myself into the ground.
Today, I was pretty damn sore. Not to mention, emotionally I had a rough day. I arrived early to class and tried - really tried - to center myself. And I was doing a fairly good job. But then we did frog pose, which is a GINORMOUS hip opener. And my hips opened. And, as we all know, our hips hold LOTS of memories. And all I wanted to do was assume balasana and cry like a baby. But everyone else in class was moving on, progressing. I should keep up. Must. Do. Asana.
I'm getting used to a new job, moving into a new home in a new town, trying to write a novel in a month, and getting used to an entirely new schedule. This is probably the best time in the world for me to practice compassion with myself.
Instead, I'm pushing myself to the limit and probably not doing myself any favors (except for staying in the same weight class).
If I were truly a "good" yogini, I would be gentle with myself. Express gratitude with myself. For finding some time - any time - to practice and not stressing about it.
Hopefully - just maybe? - coming to this realization is one step closer to actually embodying it.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Wilfordpalooza
I had a very long post all written out in my head about setting down roots and having a home that I can call my own for longer than a year and all the "A Ha!" moments related to settling down that happened at the Samhain ritual on Saturday night. But I self-edited. Because you all probably don't care and because I've got to muddle it over in my head some more to make all the pieces fit together.
But sufice to say, I had a great, albeit jam packed weekend. There's just not enough hours in the day. But I did manage to go for a 2 hour walk around Gloucester. The waves were gigantic thanks to the remnants of Hurricane Noel and, paired with a bright sky, it was a perfect day for sitting on the shore. I hung some plants, found the local esoterica shop and even got some cooking done. I was a busy girl.
I also knew that today would be a busy day at work. I'm finally working on a project but, unfortunately, we're still figuring a lot of the moving parts out. So a lot of it is drafting up copy variations and seeing what sticks.
But at lunchtime, I did get to take a break and enjoy Wilfordpalooza.
What? you might be asking. Well, let me explain.
One of our big accounts is a "Diabeetus" testing supplies company. And their spokesman is Wilford Brimley. And even though he's awful to work with, he still pulls in the response. And it's time once again for us to script a Wilford commercial.
In preparation, the team got together to review all of the old Wilford commercials to review what worked, what didn't, and possible reasons why.
And then we got to watch this. Enjoy. And, remember, it's all about a healthy diet, exercise and checking your blood sugar and checking it often!
But sufice to say, I had a great, albeit jam packed weekend. There's just not enough hours in the day. But I did manage to go for a 2 hour walk around Gloucester. The waves were gigantic thanks to the remnants of Hurricane Noel and, paired with a bright sky, it was a perfect day for sitting on the shore. I hung some plants, found the local esoterica shop and even got some cooking done. I was a busy girl.
I also knew that today would be a busy day at work. I'm finally working on a project but, unfortunately, we're still figuring a lot of the moving parts out. So a lot of it is drafting up copy variations and seeing what sticks.
But at lunchtime, I did get to take a break and enjoy Wilfordpalooza.
What? you might be asking. Well, let me explain.
One of our big accounts is a "Diabeetus" testing supplies company. And their spokesman is Wilford Brimley. And even though he's awful to work with, he still pulls in the response. And it's time once again for us to script a Wilford commercial.
In preparation, the team got together to review all of the old Wilford commercials to review what worked, what didn't, and possible reasons why.
And then we got to watch this. Enjoy. And, remember, it's all about a healthy diet, exercise and checking your blood sugar and checking it often!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Blessed, Blessed Samhain
(For those of you not in "the know," that's pronounced "sow-in.")
It's time for the Celtic New Year. Not only one of the "high holy days" in the pagan and Wiccan calendar - a time when the veil between the worlds is thought to be at its thinnest, but the time when one ought to begin to turn inward. Examine one's life. Delve into the shadows to see what lies beneath.
I've never understood why people think Halloween is spooky or scary. We are taught to respect our elders and revere our forebears. So why do we think their departed spirits want to wander around, open and close cabinet doors, or smash pumpkins? It's beyond me...
I've never understood why people think Halloween is spooky or scary. We are taught to respect our elders and revere our forebears. So why do we think their departed spirits want to wander around, open and close cabinet doors, or smash pumpkins? It's beyond me...
What I plan on using this dark time for is to plunge the depths of my unconscious and use it to create a brand new world. A world of fiction, but one which speaks of truth. Yes, folks, it's NaNoWriMo time.
I also plan on using it to examine this new life of mine. This life that has me lingering long after yoga class talking to people about classes, teachers, styles, Thai restaurants, and fun places to go hiking. This life that has me waking up early enough to do a full hour plus of yoga, shower, eat, and still get to the office before the lion's share of people even arrive. This life that gives me the opportunity to hang out on a rocky cove at 8 am on a quiet Sunday morning, watching the storm clouds blow out.
It's going to be a good new year. I can feel it in my bones. Blessings.
Oh yea - in case you're wondering - the concert - AMAZING. Old hits, new hits, revamped hits. Death of a Disco Dancer reimagined. Stretch Out and Wait with an ... interesting ... dance interpretation. And, Dear God, Please Help Me with tears. I was in heaven. I laughed, I sang, I danced, I cried. I didn't get to kiss his Mozness, but just seeing his brilliance - I'm a happier person for it.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The Great and Powerful Moz
It's been a super busy, hectic, crazy, emotional whirlwind of a few days. Moving happened, torrential downpour and all. Nothing that I know of was broken or lost in the melee and I would say I'm about 85% settled in.
New apartment is great except I can't seem to get the hot water in the shower to stay hot. This sucks. But the landlord seems responsive, so hopefully we'll get it fixed. I cannot live without the hot bath option....
But it's been amazing being in Gloucester. People seem really friendly - almost too friendly. There was a wierd incident involving a couple, a Mexican restaurant, a margarita and an invitation. I'm not sure if they're in a cult or an "open" relationship. I think I'll wait awhile before taking them up on their offer to "swing by their place"... (Swing being the operative word, methinks.)
And tonight is the Morrissey concert. I am much excited. It's gonna suck driving in and out of the city on the day of the stupid Red Sox parade (did you hear the "crowd response" from Fenway? I am ashamed to be from the same city as these drunken idjuts...). But I am uber excited for the show. He's so amazing live. *sigh* A gal in love.... Maybe I can hook up with a random Brit again and get invited to the front row. Hey, it worked last time....
And after tomorrow, the writing begins. NaNoWriMo, here I come!
New apartment is great except I can't seem to get the hot water in the shower to stay hot. This sucks. But the landlord seems responsive, so hopefully we'll get it fixed. I cannot live without the hot bath option....
But it's been amazing being in Gloucester. People seem really friendly - almost too friendly. There was a wierd incident involving a couple, a Mexican restaurant, a margarita and an invitation. I'm not sure if they're in a cult or an "open" relationship. I think I'll wait awhile before taking them up on their offer to "swing by their place"... (Swing being the operative word, methinks.)
And tonight is the Morrissey concert. I am much excited. It's gonna suck driving in and out of the city on the day of the stupid Red Sox parade (did you hear the "crowd response" from Fenway? I am ashamed to be from the same city as these drunken idjuts...). But I am uber excited for the show. He's so amazing live. *sigh* A gal in love.... Maybe I can hook up with a random Brit again and get invited to the front row. Hey, it worked last time....
And after tomorrow, the writing begins. NaNoWriMo, here I come!
Friday, October 26, 2007
Only One More Sleep till Gloucester
Well, it's arrived. My last night here in Watertown - the night before the dawn before the day of moving.
And while the net/net is definitely a wonderful, positive thing, I do have a few sweet, sad tears for leaving. After all, I've lived in or around Watertown for a grand total of nearly seven years. I know all the local haunts and I can drive around this town blindfolded.
I'm sure that I will get to that point in my new home town. And already I'm liking the people I meet and getting a feel for the local community. I know that belonging to a place - and having it belong to you - is more than just knowing how to get from A to Z or knowing the name of the guy at the convenience store around the corner.
Still, there are a lot of memories in this here apartment, in this here town. It's been pretty good to me, all things considered. I'll miss it.
And while the net/net is definitely a wonderful, positive thing, I do have a few sweet, sad tears for leaving. After all, I've lived in or around Watertown for a grand total of nearly seven years. I know all the local haunts and I can drive around this town blindfolded.
I'm sure that I will get to that point in my new home town. And already I'm liking the people I meet and getting a feel for the local community. I know that belonging to a place - and having it belong to you - is more than just knowing how to get from A to Z or knowing the name of the guy at the convenience store around the corner.
Still, there are a lot of memories in this here apartment, in this here town. It's been pretty good to me, all things considered. I'll miss it.
Feed the Hungry a Word at a Time
Found a great way to while away the bored hours at new job. Go here to play a fun little game where every time you get the definition of a word right, corporations donate 10 grains of rice to the UN to feed the hungry. I had to stop at 500 because I actually have work to do. But, I grinned a lot when "ubiquitous" put me over the 470 mark.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Hackensack ... And Frog
I am still massively bored at work. Altho I had a great brainstorming session this a.m., that's pretty much it for today. I should be revelling in this, but the old Catholic guilt is kicking in.
I do really like the people here, though, and the high-schoolesque lunches in the cafeteria are quite fun. On Tuesday we played CSI Agency and tried to reason out this mystery regarding a woman in the North End of Boston who apparently fell? jumped? off the roof of the building one of my coworkers lives in. We came up with quite elaborate scenarios. I think I'm gonna script it and try to sell it to CBS. Royalties.
Yesterday, a conversation about Halloween somehow morphed into a discussion about Barbies and cheerleading which, of course led to my confessions. I subscribe to the Barbie Newsletter. I used to be a cheerleader. Needless to say, my new colleagues were surprised. Even more surprised to find out that I gew up in New Jersey. Apparently, they didn't peg this no-makeup, no-hairdo, jeans-and-clog wearing hippie as a former Big Hair Girl. As my co-worker pointed out, I don't look like the typical native of New Jersey, Home of the Hair Closest to God.
Which brings me to this YouTube gem. To give credit, I found it on Feministing linked in a terrific post about the oversexualization of young girls. Check it out for some thought-provoking discussion. But for funny, watch this. Ahhhhhh, the lilting accent of my youth...
I do really like the people here, though, and the high-schoolesque lunches in the cafeteria are quite fun. On Tuesday we played CSI Agency and tried to reason out this mystery regarding a woman in the North End of Boston who apparently fell? jumped? off the roof of the building one of my coworkers lives in. We came up with quite elaborate scenarios. I think I'm gonna script it and try to sell it to CBS. Royalties.
Yesterday, a conversation about Halloween somehow morphed into a discussion about Barbies and cheerleading which, of course led to my confessions. I subscribe to the Barbie Newsletter. I used to be a cheerleader. Needless to say, my new colleagues were surprised. Even more surprised to find out that I gew up in New Jersey. Apparently, they didn't peg this no-makeup, no-hairdo, jeans-and-clog wearing hippie as a former Big Hair Girl. As my co-worker pointed out, I don't look like the typical native of New Jersey, Home of the Hair Closest to God.
Which brings me to this YouTube gem. To give credit, I found it on Feministing linked in a terrific post about the oversexualization of young girls. Check it out for some thought-provoking discussion. But for funny, watch this. Ahhhhhh, the lilting accent of my youth...
Monday, October 22, 2007
More Random Thoughts
Someone reminded me (as if I needed to be reminded) that moving is right up there on the stress level with losing a loved one and public speaking. Moving does, in fact, suck out loud.
I'm in this weird place between feeling like my whole life is in boxes and feeling like I have nothing packed and there's no way I'm ready for the movers to show up on Saturday.
And while I know that it will all be OK and it will work out and every time I drive into my new hometown I am amazed and awed at the natural beauty surrounding me, I am still massively stressed.
To top it off, I am STILL BORED at work. How many hours of WebSudoku can I play? Everyone keeps telling me that it's par for the course. But I don't do bored well. I left the office 10 mins early today (not really, since I was there at 8:30, but no one know that since there was a Sox game last night and most folks rolled in around 9:30....) and my boss saw me. He was having an impromptu meeting in an office down the hall about a project I'm remotely involved with. No one had come in to court my opinion, so I can only assume my input wasn't needed. Still, I feel massively guilty about the early departure. Here's hopin he understands.
I almost blew off the gym, as I was a) exhausted b) sore from multiple moving trips yesterday and c) upset and stressed. But I know that exercise is a powerful medicine against depression and so I sucked it up and went. And really glad I did. It was an amazing spin class and I found myself grinning like an idiot halfway through. I even had enough presence of mind to practice some asana afterwards.
Wish me luck for the rest of the week.
I'm in this weird place between feeling like my whole life is in boxes and feeling like I have nothing packed and there's no way I'm ready for the movers to show up on Saturday.
And while I know that it will all be OK and it will work out and every time I drive into my new hometown I am amazed and awed at the natural beauty surrounding me, I am still massively stressed.
To top it off, I am STILL BORED at work. How many hours of WebSudoku can I play? Everyone keeps telling me that it's par for the course. But I don't do bored well. I left the office 10 mins early today (not really, since I was there at 8:30, but no one know that since there was a Sox game last night and most folks rolled in around 9:30....) and my boss saw me. He was having an impromptu meeting in an office down the hall about a project I'm remotely involved with. No one had come in to court my opinion, so I can only assume my input wasn't needed. Still, I feel massively guilty about the early departure. Here's hopin he understands.
I almost blew off the gym, as I was a) exhausted b) sore from multiple moving trips yesterday and c) upset and stressed. But I know that exercise is a powerful medicine against depression and so I sucked it up and went. And really glad I did. It was an amazing spin class and I found myself grinning like an idiot halfway through. I even had enough presence of mind to practice some asana afterwards.
Wish me luck for the rest of the week.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
FoodFoodieMcFood
For those of us interested in/obsessed with the food world, there's alot going on this week.
King Corn opens tomorrow. "King Corn is a feature documentary about two friends, one acre of corn, and the subsidized crop that drives our fast-food nation. In King Corn, Ian Cheney and Curt Ellis, best friends from college on the east coast, move to the heartland to learn where their food comes from. With the help of friendly neighbors, genetically modified seeds, and powerful herbicides, they plant and grow a bumper crop of America’s most-productive, most-subsidized grain on one acre of Iowa soil. But when they try to follow their pile of corn into the food system, what they find raises troubling questions about how we eat—and how we farm."
This disgusts me: Hardee's on Monday rolled out its new Country Breakfast Burrito -- two egg omelets filled with bacon, sausage, diced ham, cheddar cheese, hash browns and sausage gravy, all wrapped inside a flour tortilla. The burrito contains 920 calories and 60 grams of fat.
Boston Vegetarian Food Festival. This Saturday is the 12th Annual Boston VegFest. I don't have time to go. I have two closets and one HUGE room left to pack. Not to mention various and sundry other errands to run. But I know of other Veg Bloggers (including Jody from VegChic) who will be there. The chance to meet and mingle with fellow Veg Bloggers who will be sporting "Eat More Kale" t-shirts. How can I not go?
I shouldn't be spending time looking these things up and blogging about them. But you can only write email call-to-action copy about whole life insurance policies for so long....
King Corn opens tomorrow. "King Corn is a feature documentary about two friends, one acre of corn, and the subsidized crop that drives our fast-food nation. In King Corn, Ian Cheney and Curt Ellis, best friends from college on the east coast, move to the heartland to learn where their food comes from. With the help of friendly neighbors, genetically modified seeds, and powerful herbicides, they plant and grow a bumper crop of America’s most-productive, most-subsidized grain on one acre of Iowa soil. But when they try to follow their pile of corn into the food system, what they find raises troubling questions about how we eat—and how we farm."
This disgusts me: Hardee's on Monday rolled out its new Country Breakfast Burrito -- two egg omelets filled with bacon, sausage, diced ham, cheddar cheese, hash browns and sausage gravy, all wrapped inside a flour tortilla. The burrito contains 920 calories and 60 grams of fat.
Boston Vegetarian Food Festival. This Saturday is the 12th Annual Boston VegFest. I don't have time to go. I have two closets and one HUGE room left to pack. Not to mention various and sundry other errands to run. But I know of other Veg Bloggers (including Jody from VegChic) who will be there. The chance to meet and mingle with fellow Veg Bloggers who will be sporting "Eat More Kale" t-shirts. How can I not go?
I shouldn't be spending time looking these things up and blogging about them. But you can only write email call-to-action copy about whole life insurance policies for so long....
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Costly Play Kales
So, I sat on my hands most of the day at work. Or, as ArmyFedExBoy would say, sat around with my thumb up my ass.
I mean, not really. I did manage to finish the plot outline for my NaNoWriMo novel. All 8 pages of it. I hope that doesn't constitute cheating and the flying guilt monkeys come for me....
But, for the most part, I stared at a computer screen all day with NOTHING productive to do. So I decided I would head out uber early (read 3:45) to catch one last yoga class with AwesomeYogaTeacher. But, the guilt monkeys did come to get me and I went to check in with one of the Veeps before I left.
Act 1 Scene 1: Kalesy knocks timidly on Veeps closed door. She has already decided to lie. "Um, I have to run out and grab the keys to my new apartment before the rental agency closes."
Veep: "Okay. Did A come talk to you about the pitch for BigCompany?"
Kalesy: "No. Should I have been looking for him?"
Veep: "No. It's a letter or email campaign. Or something. I don't have the details yet. But swing by after you come back from getting your keys and we can walk through it."
DOH!
Damn those flying guilt monkeys. I bet if I hadn't checked in, no one would have noticed me missing. Still, on the off chance they would have, probably a good thing I didn't leave. Besides, now I have something to do tomorrow. Yippee!
So, I missed yoga. I did run 4 miles on the treadmill at my new gym. Not quite the same, but it does help ease the jitters out.
And other eventful things happened, which I will blog about later - or not. The net/net is, it's 8:46 and all is well with The Universe.
I mean, not really. I did manage to finish the plot outline for my NaNoWriMo novel. All 8 pages of it. I hope that doesn't constitute cheating and the flying guilt monkeys come for me....
But, for the most part, I stared at a computer screen all day with NOTHING productive to do. So I decided I would head out uber early (read 3:45) to catch one last yoga class with AwesomeYogaTeacher. But, the guilt monkeys did come to get me and I went to check in with one of the Veeps before I left.
Act 1 Scene 1: Kalesy knocks timidly on Veeps closed door. She has already decided to lie. "Um, I have to run out and grab the keys to my new apartment before the rental agency closes."
Veep: "Okay. Did A come talk to you about the pitch for BigCompany?"
Kalesy: "No. Should I have been looking for him?"
Veep: "No. It's a letter or email campaign. Or something. I don't have the details yet. But swing by after you come back from getting your keys and we can walk through it."
DOH!
Damn those flying guilt monkeys. I bet if I hadn't checked in, no one would have noticed me missing. Still, on the off chance they would have, probably a good thing I didn't leave. Besides, now I have something to do tomorrow. Yippee!
So, I missed yoga. I did run 4 miles on the treadmill at my new gym. Not quite the same, but it does help ease the jitters out.
And other eventful things happened, which I will blog about later - or not. The net/net is, it's 8:46 and all is well with The Universe.
Quick Update
No, the new job hasn't killed me. Quite the opposite. So far, so great, but details forthcoming. Suffice to say I've been unbelievably busy when not at work - with the move and figuring out all the surrounding details. I've fallen into bed exhausted by 10 each night...
But I had to mention this: once again Kalesy is ahead of the curve...
A few weeks ago, my car started sporting this:
Last night, Stephen Colbert announced his candidacy.
Do I have my pulse on the nation, or what?
But I had to mention this: once again Kalesy is ahead of the curve...
A few weeks ago, my car started sporting this:
Last night, Stephen Colbert announced his candidacy.
Do I have my pulse on the nation, or what?
Sunday, October 14, 2007
B Day - as in Beginnings
Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
I'm nervous, anxious, excited, pensive, enthusiastic -- I'm a total loony bin.
But a trip yesterday to Salem provided me with the tools I need for a "New Beginnings" ritual I'm going to do tonight. I've got lots of lemon balm tea in me. I found a beautiful version of the Gayatri Mantra online and the performer gave me permission (no really!) to download it to my iPod. So, yes, all will be amazing.
Yesterday was a total blast. We lucked out with gorgeous weather for strolling the shops and stalls of Salem's Bizarre Bazaar. It was so nice to hang out with spiritual peeps when I'm feeling so befuddled. HypnoGal kept reminding me that "I will be great." And she's right. Many shiny things were purchased including two gorgeous Hematite necklaces that will help me stay grounded and hopefully help me set down those roots I so want to set.
I've got my outfit ironed, my coffee ready for brewing, my clock set on two different times. It's 9 p.m. and everything is ready, set, done. Too bad I fear sleep will be a long time coming. Ah well, more time to envision all the fabulousness my new life will be.
I'm nervous, anxious, excited, pensive, enthusiastic -- I'm a total loony bin.
But a trip yesterday to Salem provided me with the tools I need for a "New Beginnings" ritual I'm going to do tonight. I've got lots of lemon balm tea in me. I found a beautiful version of the Gayatri Mantra online and the performer gave me permission (no really!) to download it to my iPod. So, yes, all will be amazing.
Yesterday was a total blast. We lucked out with gorgeous weather for strolling the shops and stalls of Salem's Bizarre Bazaar. It was so nice to hang out with spiritual peeps when I'm feeling so befuddled. HypnoGal kept reminding me that "I will be great." And she's right. Many shiny things were purchased including two gorgeous Hematite necklaces that will help me stay grounded and hopefully help me set down those roots I so want to set.
I've got my outfit ironed, my coffee ready for brewing, my clock set on two different times. It's 9 p.m. and everything is ready, set, done. Too bad I fear sleep will be a long time coming. Ah well, more time to envision all the fabulousness my new life will be.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
I Am Not Alone
On the advice of Saphire Dakini, I have been checking out Crazy Aunt Purl. Her blog chronicles her life after her husband left her suddenly - to go "find himself" - and her experiments coping via booze, Cheetos, and knitting. Oh, and cats. Lots of cats. It's a hilarious read - check it out.
As synchronicity happens, she just released a book about her experiences called Drunk, Divorced, and Covered in Cat Hair. And I ordered it.
This a.m. (only four days late) I was reading the Sunday Globe's book reviews and they give it glowing reviews.
It feels good to have examples of strong women who've turned heartache around. Especially a few short weeks before NaNoWriMo.
As the T-Shirt says, "Be Nice to Me or I'll Put You in My Novel". Muh Wha Ha Ha.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Score!
No, it's not what you think. Puhleeze. It's 11:07 and I'm in jammies watching The Daily Show.
I had a great time tonight. Good laughs. Etc. But I also got the chance to steal another - very cool - pint glass for the collection. Yesssssss!
I had a great time tonight. Good laughs. Etc. But I also got the chance to steal another - very cool - pint glass for the collection. Yesssssss!
I Like to Say Yngwie Malmsteen
My brother is a big fan of heavy metal music. And when we were growing up I was often subjected to, er um, treated to, amateur renditions of popular guitar riffs and Ozzy Osborne lyrics. Which may explain my tendency to walk around the house (age 5 or 6) chanting, "I Am Iron Man!"
Despite these protestations of my childhood self, I am really not that hardcore. But everyone seems to think I am.
I was chatting to a friend today and mentioned that I'm having drinks with my friend Tomkolson tonight. I also mentioned that there would be no hanky panky for numerous reasons but not least of which, I will not be rebound girl.
My friend paused and said, "Oh, did Tom just go through a break up?"
No you schmuck. I did.
Funny thing is, he's not the only person who's reacted like this. People seem to have forgotten already the Kalesy of a month ago (tomorrow's my anniversary. Go me!) who couldn't make it through an hour without tearage. Multiple folks have seemed shock when I express moments of pain and suffering, as if they're wondering why.
Perhaps I would be fairing better if I was still listening to Black Sabbath. Maybe I should find myself a local cover band. Could be fun. Ripped jeans and big hair. Leather pants with leopard prints. Hmmmmm.....
Despite these protestations of my childhood self, I am really not that hardcore. But everyone seems to think I am.
I was chatting to a friend today and mentioned that I'm having drinks with my friend Tomkolson tonight. I also mentioned that there would be no hanky panky for numerous reasons but not least of which, I will not be rebound girl.
My friend paused and said, "Oh, did Tom just go through a break up?"
No you schmuck. I did.
Funny thing is, he's not the only person who's reacted like this. People seem to have forgotten already the Kalesy of a month ago (tomorrow's my anniversary. Go me!) who couldn't make it through an hour without tearage. Multiple folks have seemed shock when I express moments of pain and suffering, as if they're wondering why.
Perhaps I would be fairing better if I was still listening to Black Sabbath. Maybe I should find myself a local cover band. Could be fun. Ripped jeans and big hair. Leather pants with leopard prints. Hmmmmm.....
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
More Loser's Club Vindication
It so easily could have been a Loser's Club goes to Six Flags story. I was on the fence about going anyway. Two trips to Western MA in one weekend plus an entire day spent with a group of Peeps I didn't know. But WriterGal talked me into it, so...
Everyone was super nice. And by that I mean they were sarcastic and funny in a dark, mean, bitter way. Which meant that they were acting themselves around me. (I'd heard enough stories to know what to expect of their behavior.)
We get there and make a beeline for the Cyclone. And wait in line. And wait in line. Every single ride at the park was backed up for at least 45 minutes. And we're almost to the front and a buzzer starts going off. And then they start running empty trains. Not a good sign. Ten minutes later, people from the very front of the line start leaving. Ride's shut down.
Next ride, the Catapult. This thing looks disgustingly scary but, that's what amusement parks are for. We make it onto the ride, strap in, and then a voice comes over the loudspeaker. Ride's shut down.
After a full five hours at the park, I can only report going on three rides. Of those three, in one I lost an earring, and in another I think I completely freaked out the guy sitting next to me. (He's probably not used to hearing people whispering yoga mantras while waiting for a ride to hurtle you into space.)
So why isn't this a Loser's Club story? Because on the way back to my car, the gal driving me mentioned that her sister- and brother-in-law live in Gloucester. And they're really cool. My age. She should put us in touch. And she and her wife visit every summer and rent a house. We should hang.
So, I had a decent time with people who didn't seem completely horrified at my presence and even made some instant friends in my new home town.
Oh, and I somehow found my earring before exiting the ride to my left.
I believe they call that vindication.
Everyone was super nice. And by that I mean they were sarcastic and funny in a dark, mean, bitter way. Which meant that they were acting themselves around me. (I'd heard enough stories to know what to expect of their behavior.)
We get there and make a beeline for the Cyclone. And wait in line. And wait in line. Every single ride at the park was backed up for at least 45 minutes. And we're almost to the front and a buzzer starts going off. And then they start running empty trains. Not a good sign. Ten minutes later, people from the very front of the line start leaving. Ride's shut down.
Next ride, the Catapult. This thing looks disgustingly scary but, that's what amusement parks are for. We make it onto the ride, strap in, and then a voice comes over the loudspeaker. Ride's shut down.
After a full five hours at the park, I can only report going on three rides. Of those three, in one I lost an earring, and in another I think I completely freaked out the guy sitting next to me. (He's probably not used to hearing people whispering yoga mantras while waiting for a ride to hurtle you into space.)
So why isn't this a Loser's Club story? Because on the way back to my car, the gal driving me mentioned that her sister- and brother-in-law live in Gloucester. And they're really cool. My age. She should put us in touch. And she and her wife visit every summer and rent a house. We should hang.
So, I had a decent time with people who didn't seem completely horrified at my presence and even made some instant friends in my new home town.
Oh, and I somehow found my earring before exiting the ride to my left.
I believe they call that vindication.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Wild Thing
I know you're going to be shocked by this statement but, yesterday's yoga workshop was amazing.
Sianna is a charged bundle of wisdom and energy. Her meditation for the morn
ing class was on "The Wild Thing." This is a pose that John Friend "developed" and that has been named in Sanskrit as "Am'ing to Moreness" -- being open to always becoming moremoremore. And the way you open to always becoming more is by opening your heart. See?
The whole day really taught me two things: one, my anger and childish NannyNannyPooPooism of the last three weeks (yes, folks, it's a "technical name" kind of day) is just that - childish. Yes, I'm angry and hurt and sad, but there's just no need to wear it on my sleeve like a badge of honor. I need to just "feel the feelings I'm feeling" and continue to live my life authentically. And, two, I need to be gentle with myself and know that even though I'm really scared about all the developments of the past month or so, I am really courageous in being this open to this much more.
Pretty deep words for 9:15 a.m. and no coffee yet. And now I'm off to do the truly yogic thing of going to Six Flags. Here's to riding the rollercoaster of life!
Sianna is a charged bundle of wisdom and energy. Her meditation for the morn
ing class was on "The Wild Thing." This is a pose that John Friend "developed" and that has been named in Sanskrit as "Am'ing to Moreness" -- being open to always becoming moremoremore. And the way you open to always becoming more is by opening your heart. See?The whole day really taught me two things: one, my anger and childish NannyNannyPooPooism of the last three weeks (yes, folks, it's a "technical name" kind of day) is just that - childish. Yes, I'm angry and hurt and sad, but there's just no need to wear it on my sleeve like a badge of honor. I need to just "feel the feelings I'm feeling" and continue to live my life authentically. And, two, I need to be gentle with myself and know that even though I'm really scared about all the developments of the past month or so, I am really courageous in being this open to this much more.
Pretty deep words for 9:15 a.m. and no coffee yet. And now I'm off to do the truly yogic thing of going to Six Flags. Here's to riding the rollercoaster of life!
Thursday, October 04, 2007
D Day
Tomorrow is the last day at IrishCompany. I'm having trouble envisioning a commute that doesn't involve Storrow or not making the (almost) daily trip to ABP. What's even worse is that I have no idea what my future will look like. On a day to day basis, I have no idea what to expect.
Still, I had therapy tonight and five hours of yoga to look forward to on Saturday. I'll see yoginis I know and love and even my good friend WriterGal. So happiness on the horizon.
Besides, it was time to repaint my toenails. I painted them aqua and plan on wearing the aqua dress that Mr. Zips and I had such a fight about on my birthday. Why not look uber hot on my last day of work? Maybe I'll try to talk BeautifulGirl into grabbing lunch at the Italian place next door. I'd like one last Jimmy Blue-Eyed Special, s'il vous plais.
Still, I had therapy tonight and five hours of yoga to look forward to on Saturday. I'll see yoginis I know and love and even my good friend WriterGal. So happiness on the horizon.
Besides, it was time to repaint my toenails. I painted them aqua and plan on wearing the aqua dress that Mr. Zips and I had such a fight about on my birthday. Why not look uber hot on my last day of work? Maybe I'll try to talk BeautifulGirl into grabbing lunch at the Italian place next door. I'd like one last Jimmy Blue-Eyed Special, s'il vous plais.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
All Together Now
Amended French battle hymn:
Napolean vanque cinque cent soldats
Napolean vanque cinque cent soldats
Napolean vanque cinque cent soldats
Mais il ne m'a pas défait!
And my own little ditty:
I can't wait 'till my exit interview
exit interview
exit interview
I can't wait 'till my exit interview
'cuz I'm throwing (Napolean)* under the bus!
*this sounds a lot better when you use Napolean's two-syllable name
Set your watches peeps. 11:30 EDT tomorrow.
Napolean vanque cinque cent soldats
Napolean vanque cinque cent soldats
Napolean vanque cinque cent soldats
Mais il ne m'a pas défait!
And my own little ditty:
I can't wait 'till my exit interview
exit interview
exit interview
I can't wait 'till my exit interview
'cuz I'm throwing (Napolean)* under the bus!
*this sounds a lot better when you use Napolean's two-syllable name
Set your watches peeps. 11:30 EDT tomorrow.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Whirlwind
My life is moving at such a breakneck pace I can't even keep up. So, I will do my best to categorize.
Yoga
One positive thing to result from the recent past is how much my yoga practice is progressing - both physically and spiritually. I've been taking class a lot more regularly since I have no one to go home to and haven't been spending money on meals out. So I've practically tripled the amount of asana I've been practicing.
The workshop w/ Todd and Ann was completely amazing. The theme for the weekend was Shiva Nataraja, the dancing shiva (embodied in this pose). The focus was on the ecstatic dance through life and everything it brings, both joyous and mournful. What a great meditation. The class itself was very challenging and I think many of us were starting to feel a little frustrated. But Todd kept our spirits up. "Let's put our legs behind our heads. Shall we? Why not?" And, of course, we all laughed incredulously. But, before you know it, I was moving into a full expression of bhairavasana. (Amazing how good that pose feels, despite how it looks!) At the end of class we joined together in a kirtan to Shiva Nataraja and it was so unbelievably moving, uplifting, and beautiful. I practically floated home.
Home
I got the apartment! The one I wanted in Gloucester. Soon I will be living steps from the ocean. Here's a picture of my new kitchen.
And here's one of my new BACKYARD
I'm not sure when moving day will be. Depends on what my current landlords say. It might have to be the weekend of Oct. 27, which means I miss bestest friend's birthday party. Sadness. But in all reality I might not be able to make it down to NJ right now anyway. Ah well, I'll figure it out.
NaNoWriMo
As you can see from my links, I am now an offical NaNoWriMo 2007 participant. 29 days to go until kick-off! NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month - 50,000 words during the month of November. The theory behind it is that most aspiring writers suffer from the "one day" syndrome when really what they need is a deadline. So this gives us a deadline - November 30. The goal here is quantity, not quality. You can always go back and edit something once you've got it down on paper. As the founder of the project stresses, once you're compassionate enough with yourself to allow yourself to write complete and total drivel, you have carte blanche for creating the masterpiece.
I'm taking this challenge really seriously and WitchKnight and HypnoGal and I have formed our own little support group. I'm also hoping to find people in Gloucester or thereabouts that are involved.
I've begun reading No Plot? No Problem! and it's not only insanely motivational, it's also hilarious. I was reading it in the laundromat on Sunday and a woman actually came over to ask me what I was reading that was making me laugh so hard. Beware the flying guilt monkeys!
So, I have a plot and characters and it's all I can do to keep from starting to write now. But that's strictly verbotten, so I'll just keep drafting in my head for one more month.
And, finally, Work
Wrapping up my last week here at IrishCompany. Napolean is in Dublin, which gets him out of my hair. Although the few times I've talked to him he's definitely thrown passive agressive barbs in my direction. (Shocking!) I'm being pretty passive myself this week and haven't even begun cleaning out my desk. But I'll get there sooner or later.
As for the new job, I'm both excited and very very nervous. I even went out and bought two books on Copywriting and working at an agency. I know it's not rocket science, but it is a completely different environment and I'm not so good with the new things. Still, I already have a great support network in place, know people on the inside, and trust in myself. So, here's to leaping into the great, vast unknown and knowing that I'll fly.
Yoga
One positive thing to result from the recent past is how much my yoga practice is progressing - both physically and spiritually. I've been taking class a lot more regularly since I have no one to go home to and haven't been spending money on meals out. So I've practically tripled the amount of asana I've been practicing.
The workshop w/ Todd and Ann was completely amazing. The theme for the weekend was Shiva Nataraja, the dancing shiva (embodied in this pose). The focus was on the ecstatic dance through life and everything it brings, both joyous and mournful. What a great meditation. The class itself was very challenging and I think many of us were starting to feel a little frustrated. But Todd kept our spirits up. "Let's put our legs behind our heads. Shall we? Why not?" And, of course, we all laughed incredulously. But, before you know it, I was moving into a full expression of bhairavasana. (Amazing how good that pose feels, despite how it looks!) At the end of class we joined together in a kirtan to Shiva Nataraja and it was so unbelievably moving, uplifting, and beautiful. I practically floated home.
Home
I got the apartment! The one I wanted in Gloucester. Soon I will be living steps from the ocean. Here's a picture of my new kitchen.
And here's one of my new BACKYARD
I'm not sure when moving day will be. Depends on what my current landlords say. It might have to be the weekend of Oct. 27, which means I miss bestest friend's birthday party. Sadness. But in all reality I might not be able to make it down to NJ right now anyway. Ah well, I'll figure it out.
NaNoWriMo
As you can see from my links, I am now an offical NaNoWriMo 2007 participant. 29 days to go until kick-off! NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month - 50,000 words during the month of November. The theory behind it is that most aspiring writers suffer from the "one day" syndrome when really what they need is a deadline. So this gives us a deadline - November 30. The goal here is quantity, not quality. You can always go back and edit something once you've got it down on paper. As the founder of the project stresses, once you're compassionate enough with yourself to allow yourself to write complete and total drivel, you have carte blanche for creating the masterpiece.
I'm taking this challenge really seriously and WitchKnight and HypnoGal and I have formed our own little support group. I'm also hoping to find people in Gloucester or thereabouts that are involved.
I've begun reading No Plot? No Problem! and it's not only insanely motivational, it's also hilarious. I was reading it in the laundromat on Sunday and a woman actually came over to ask me what I was reading that was making me laugh so hard. Beware the flying guilt monkeys!
So, I have a plot and characters and it's all I can do to keep from starting to write now. But that's strictly verbotten, so I'll just keep drafting in my head for one more month.
And, finally, Work
Wrapping up my last week here at IrishCompany. Napolean is in Dublin, which gets him out of my hair. Although the few times I've talked to him he's definitely thrown passive agressive barbs in my direction. (Shocking!) I'm being pretty passive myself this week and haven't even begun cleaning out my desk. But I'll get there sooner or later.
As for the new job, I'm both excited and very very nervous. I even went out and bought two books on Copywriting and working at an agency. I know it's not rocket science, but it is a completely different environment and I'm not so good with the new things. Still, I already have a great support network in place, know people on the inside, and trust in myself. So, here's to leaping into the great, vast unknown and knowing that I'll fly.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Making the Latent Manifest
New Criticism
I sit
my back to a space heater
reading poems in a book
signed by the author,
a professor I had years ago.
Had, in the sense that he taught me
and in the sense that I always wanted more.
The course was literary theory
and he liked New Criticism
which removes the writer from the writing.
But I never bought it.
You couldn't read those poems
and not get to know the soul
that was translated onto the page.
I loved to hear him read from his work,
his unique cadence
the rhythmical dripping of double entendre
made me feel
that I had something to say.
But now, I have nothing to say.
Or, rather, everything I have to say is Memo.
To: You
Re: See how well I'm coping
When the truth I need to face
is that a heating unit
bought at the Home Depot for $12.95 plus tax
is doing the job you used to
keeping me warm
against the chill autumn nights.
And neither of you
understand
why I keep these books of poetry
on my shelves
and read them when I feel lonely.
I sit
my back to a space heater
reading poems in a book
signed by the author,
a professor I had years ago.
Had, in the sense that he taught me
and in the sense that I always wanted more.
The course was literary theory
and he liked New Criticism
which removes the writer from the writing.
But I never bought it.
You couldn't read those poems
and not get to know the soul
that was translated onto the page.
I loved to hear him read from his work,
his unique cadence
the rhythmical dripping of double entendre
made me feel
that I had something to say.
But now, I have nothing to say.
Or, rather, everything I have to say is Memo.
To: You
Re: See how well I'm coping
When the truth I need to face
is that a heating unit
bought at the Home Depot for $12.95 plus tax
is doing the job you used to
keeping me warm
against the chill autumn nights.
And neither of you
understand
why I keep these books of poetry
on my shelves
and read them when I feel lonely.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Reclaiming Losers' Club
I am happy to report that last night was a completely non-Loser's Club goes to the PBR.
It turns out that, thanks to the miracles (?) of Western medicine, my family felt well enough to make the trip up north. And my mother's doctor vehemently asserted that none should be contagious. So, I decided to risk it.
All told, a good time was had by all. Sure, it was difficult for me - I think Mr. Zips could have really enjoyed it. And I was hyper aware of his absence. But other than a few tears, the evening was mostly filled with laughter.
One rider got a concussion, but all the riders walked off the field. And as Flint remarked, any PBR event that ends with everyone upright suggests that Life is Good.
I opted not to stay at the hotel in CT - the Grizwald family room sounded like a TB Ward - and so I started the two hour drive home at 10:30. Why I woke up wide awake at 7 this a.m. is beyond me. Ah well, lots of time to run some errands before making the drive up north.
Apartment hunting (finalizing?) and yoga workshop, sunshine and cool, dry weather - Life IS Good.
It turns out that, thanks to the miracles (?) of Western medicine, my family felt well enough to make the trip up north. And my mother's doctor vehemently asserted that none should be contagious. So, I decided to risk it.
All told, a good time was had by all. Sure, it was difficult for me - I think Mr. Zips could have really enjoyed it. And I was hyper aware of his absence. But other than a few tears, the evening was mostly filled with laughter.
One rider got a concussion, but all the riders walked off the field. And as Flint remarked, any PBR event that ends with everyone upright suggests that Life is Good.
I opted not to stay at the hotel in CT - the Grizwald family room sounded like a TB Ward - and so I started the two hour drive home at 10:30. Why I woke up wide awake at 7 this a.m. is beyond me. Ah well, lots of time to run some errands before making the drive up north.
Apartment hunting (finalizing?) and yoga workshop, sunshine and cool, dry weather - Life IS Good.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy
First, a refresher on "Losers Club Goes to the PBR." This is, pehaps, the most loserclubish of all loserclub histories.
Year one, Mom loses her glasses. And gets so frenzied trying to find them that she works herself into a fever. Glasses are found and she winds up spending the time between the "Meet the Riders" event and the actual bucking at a Barnes and Noble taking a "sink bath" to cool down and refresh after sweating off all of her makeup.
Year two, Mom and I are driving down to Worcester, MA from Brattleboro, VT. The weather forecast doesn't look good, but what the heck. By Greenfield, it's snowing. By the time we get on the Pike, it's icing. By the time we get to Palmer, it's whiteout conditions. To this day I still have flashbacks to being behind the wheel, unable to tell where the sky ends and the road begins.
Year three we get smart. (ha!) We rent a hotel room in Worcester so we can get up early, go to the Meet the Riders event and then spend the afternoon relaxing. Except that we get over to Meet the Riders and find out that it was held two hours earlier because the hotel double booked the ballroom. Despair ensues. But no matter, someone on the inside tells us that the cowboys come back to the hotel after the event to blow off some steam. So after the event, we too go back to the hotel. Mom meets Justin McBride, the night's winner and one of the biggest all-time champs. Mom gets so excited that she starts dry heaving in the cab.
All of this to fill you in on this year's Loser Club.
Parents and Big Bro were to be driving up to Mohegan Sun. Me and Mr. Zips were to be meeting them in CT. Much money was spent on tickets.
So I am bitter that there will be an empty seat next to me. But I did my best to put a cheerful face on it and had decided that I would use this opportunity to Git Me a Husband. After all, those boys may not be too bright and they might be *just a tad* too religious. But they sure are good lookin'. And rich. And in damn fine shape. (They buck bulls for gods' sake!)
Too bad that this is the most loserclubish of all mostloserclubbish years. Because this year, Mom and Dad are sick. Not just sniffle sick. Full on, knock-down-drag-out sick. And contagious. And so they're likely not going to make the drive up to Mohegan. And, even if they do, I'm not sure I could chance catching what they've got. Because (if I haven't mentioned) I start my new job in two weeks and I'm moving in four.
Of course, the irony is that if Mr. Zips hadn't timed things the way he did, this could have been an AWESOME weekend. An evening filled with adrenaline. A paid-for hotel room for the two of us.
Buckin A.
Year one, Mom loses her glasses. And gets so frenzied trying to find them that she works herself into a fever. Glasses are found and she winds up spending the time between the "Meet the Riders" event and the actual bucking at a Barnes and Noble taking a "sink bath" to cool down and refresh after sweating off all of her makeup.
Year two, Mom and I are driving down to Worcester, MA from Brattleboro, VT. The weather forecast doesn't look good, but what the heck. By Greenfield, it's snowing. By the time we get on the Pike, it's icing. By the time we get to Palmer, it's whiteout conditions. To this day I still have flashbacks to being behind the wheel, unable to tell where the sky ends and the road begins.
Year three we get smart. (ha!) We rent a hotel room in Worcester so we can get up early, go to the Meet the Riders event and then spend the afternoon relaxing. Except that we get over to Meet the Riders and find out that it was held two hours earlier because the hotel double booked the ballroom. Despair ensues. But no matter, someone on the inside tells us that the cowboys come back to the hotel after the event to blow off some steam. So after the event, we too go back to the hotel. Mom meets Justin McBride, the night's winner and one of the biggest all-time champs. Mom gets so excited that she starts dry heaving in the cab.
All of this to fill you in on this year's Loser Club.
Parents and Big Bro were to be driving up to Mohegan Sun. Me and Mr. Zips were to be meeting them in CT. Much money was spent on tickets.
So I am bitter that there will be an empty seat next to me. But I did my best to put a cheerful face on it and had decided that I would use this opportunity to Git Me a Husband. After all, those boys may not be too bright and they might be *just a tad* too religious. But they sure are good lookin'. And rich. And in damn fine shape. (They buck bulls for gods' sake!)
Too bad that this is the most loserclubish of all mostloserclubbish years. Because this year, Mom and Dad are sick. Not just sniffle sick. Full on, knock-down-drag-out sick. And contagious. And so they're likely not going to make the drive up to Mohegan. And, even if they do, I'm not sure I could chance catching what they've got. Because (if I haven't mentioned) I start my new job in two weeks and I'm moving in four.
Of course, the irony is that if Mr. Zips hadn't timed things the way he did, this could have been an AWESOME weekend. An evening filled with adrenaline. A paid-for hotel room for the two of us.
Buckin A.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
My Wife Has?
Watching the Democratic debate tonight. I'm such a dork.
I really like Barack. No secret. But I'm not sure what I think about his response to Equal Marriage. Sure, he talks about extending rights and benefits (without defeating DOMA btw). Great. When Tim asked him if he'd talked to his daughters about same sex couples he answered, "My Wife Has."
What does that mean? Does it mean Daddy Obama is uncomfortable talking with kiddoes about the gays? Does it mean that Daddy Obama kisses kiddies on the head and sends them off to bed and lets Mommie do the parenting? Or, maybe it's just an honest response - kids asked mom one day, out of the blue, the way kids do, and mom responded, end of story?
I wish I could stop reading so much into all of this....
I really hate to say this but I love Barack's rhetoric, but Hillary sounds like she's got the numbers, the stats, the facts, and the (ugh) experience. Unfortunately, she looks awful. Hill, hon, lose those jowls. I knew Richard Nixon and you, Hillary, are no Richard Nixon. (OK, I didn't really know Richard Nixon.)
PS - Go DENNIS! I really wish I could believe that a vote for Kucinich would matter...
PPS - I am a tad offended by one of the final questions: Candidates, name your favorite Bible passage. I mean, sure, they all had good responses. Love your neighbor, Do unto others. Sentiments that are noble and good in general. But why specify Bible? Is this not America? Why not say religious passage?
Of course, I was cheered by Barack's response that he would have to say The Beatitudes. Did he say Blessed Are the Cheesemakers?
I really like Barack. No secret. But I'm not sure what I think about his response to Equal Marriage. Sure, he talks about extending rights and benefits (without defeating DOMA btw). Great. When Tim asked him if he'd talked to his daughters about same sex couples he answered, "My Wife Has."
What does that mean? Does it mean Daddy Obama is uncomfortable talking with kiddoes about the gays? Does it mean that Daddy Obama kisses kiddies on the head and sends them off to bed and lets Mommie do the parenting? Or, maybe it's just an honest response - kids asked mom one day, out of the blue, the way kids do, and mom responded, end of story?
I wish I could stop reading so much into all of this....
I really hate to say this but I love Barack's rhetoric, but Hillary sounds like she's got the numbers, the stats, the facts, and the (ugh) experience. Unfortunately, she looks awful. Hill, hon, lose those jowls. I knew Richard Nixon and you, Hillary, are no Richard Nixon. (OK, I didn't really know Richard Nixon.)
PS - Go DENNIS! I really wish I could believe that a vote for Kucinich would matter...
PPS - I am a tad offended by one of the final questions: Candidates, name your favorite Bible passage. I mean, sure, they all had good responses. Love your neighbor, Do unto others. Sentiments that are noble and good in general. But why specify Bible? Is this not America? Why not say religious passage?
Of course, I was cheered by Barack's response that he would have to say The Beatitudes. Did he say Blessed Are the Cheesemakers?
Antidote for a Bad Day
I'm having a bad day. It's 9:30 a.m. and I've been awake for 5 and a half hours.
But no matter how bad it gets, I'm still way better off than David Hasselhoff.
I give you the antidote for a bad day.
But no matter how bad it gets, I'm still way better off than David Hasselhoff.
I give you the antidote for a bad day.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
24601
One of the MAJOR drawbacks of being a theatre geek is that there is a showtune for every occasion. And for the past three days I've had, "Who Am I?" from Les Miz running through my brain.
The Universe has given me the ultimate Clean Slate. New Job. Newly unattached. A chance to move to a new home. So, who will the new me be?
On Sunday, I went up to Gloucester and was amazed. Immediately came home and started dialing numbers listed in the For Rent pages. I started imagining apartments. Places where I could start a new future - places where my new life would take shape. What would this future look like? What was perfection for me?
One apartment sounded great. Two plus bedroom in an old Victorian, porch, quiet neighborhood, one block from the beach, around the corner from the train station, 4 miles from the new office, same neighborhood as my "sister gym." Then I saw it.
To say it was in bad shape is an understatement. There was still a Red Sox calendar and Patriots poster on the wall from the last tenants. The bathroom was pink. And that's only the tip of the iceberg.
So, okay, apartment not for me. So I drove to the next showing in downtown Salem. This apartment was FABULOUS. Brand spanking new building - just gutted and completely refabbed. Above a vegetarian restaurant and in the quiet section of downtown Salem. So, what's the drawback? Well, aside from the uber high price tag, the apartment just didn't seem me. It was sleek and shiny. But there was no room in the kitchen for storage, for extra soup cans, bags of rice, plates and coffee mugs. It was a kitchen for a person who eats an awful lot of takeout. And my bookshelves would look horribly old-fashioned in there, with their books that have actually been read and have the dogears and coffee stains to prove it. And to top it off, while I love Salem, I wouldn't exactly be in the midst of nature, living above a restaurant on a city square street.
So, driving home, I was in a bit of despair. Where - for that matter, when - would I find the right apartment? An apartment with character that was still clean and fresh. An apartment that let me adore nature and still curl up in a cozy, wuzzy nook and read or nap.
And then, staring at the moon and deciding I would let The Universe steer me right, my phone rang. There's an apartment in E. Gloucester, right off Niles Beach. 5 mins from the highway. Porch. Stained glass windows. I asked and the landlord said it was clean, repainted, refreshed. Now, I'm not taking her word for it, but it has potential. And, who knows, maybe it will be rented by the time I go look at it before the workshop on Saturday. But maybe, just maybe, it won't be.
I wish that everything was all settled and set and done. You know how I hate to be off kilter. But right now I guess I just have to trust that The Universe will help me discover who I am - and what I want.
Of course, here's the one drawback to not taking the Salem apartment. Real Estate guy who showed me around? MAJOR cute.
The Universe has given me the ultimate Clean Slate. New Job. Newly unattached. A chance to move to a new home. So, who will the new me be?
On Sunday, I went up to Gloucester and was amazed. Immediately came home and started dialing numbers listed in the For Rent pages. I started imagining apartments. Places where I could start a new future - places where my new life would take shape. What would this future look like? What was perfection for me?
One apartment sounded great. Two plus bedroom in an old Victorian, porch, quiet neighborhood, one block from the beach, around the corner from the train station, 4 miles from the new office, same neighborhood as my "sister gym." Then I saw it.
To say it was in bad shape is an understatement. There was still a Red Sox calendar and Patriots poster on the wall from the last tenants. The bathroom was pink. And that's only the tip of the iceberg.
So, okay, apartment not for me. So I drove to the next showing in downtown Salem. This apartment was FABULOUS. Brand spanking new building - just gutted and completely refabbed. Above a vegetarian restaurant and in the quiet section of downtown Salem. So, what's the drawback? Well, aside from the uber high price tag, the apartment just didn't seem me. It was sleek and shiny. But there was no room in the kitchen for storage, for extra soup cans, bags of rice, plates and coffee mugs. It was a kitchen for a person who eats an awful lot of takeout. And my bookshelves would look horribly old-fashioned in there, with their books that have actually been read and have the dogears and coffee stains to prove it. And to top it off, while I love Salem, I wouldn't exactly be in the midst of nature, living above a restaurant on a city square street.
So, driving home, I was in a bit of despair. Where - for that matter, when - would I find the right apartment? An apartment with character that was still clean and fresh. An apartment that let me adore nature and still curl up in a cozy, wuzzy nook and read or nap.
And then, staring at the moon and deciding I would let The Universe steer me right, my phone rang. There's an apartment in E. Gloucester, right off Niles Beach. 5 mins from the highway. Porch. Stained glass windows. I asked and the landlord said it was clean, repainted, refreshed. Now, I'm not taking her word for it, but it has potential. And, who knows, maybe it will be rented by the time I go look at it before the workshop on Saturday. But maybe, just maybe, it won't be.
I wish that everything was all settled and set and done. You know how I hate to be off kilter. But right now I guess I just have to trust that The Universe will help me discover who I am - and what I want.
Of course, here's the one drawback to not taking the Salem apartment. Real Estate guy who showed me around? MAJOR cute.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
The Power of the Leafy Greens
I went hiking up in Gloucester today. Partly to get out of the house on a beautiful Autumnal Equinox day. Partially to see what the North Shore neighborhoods had to offer. To perk up my mood (which was pretty bleak this a.m., truth be told) I wore my recent purchase from eatmorekale.com - a cheery Eat More Kale tee in seafoam green. Will be perfect for upcoming Mozz show....
Hiking makes me happy in ways that few other things do. The physical exertion, the scent of the trees, the occasional wildlife encounter. (Hello snake, my animal totem of old...) And it doesn't hurt if the trail you're following winds up at the top of a hill that overlooks Gloucester Harbor. Sun sparkling off ocean, lighthouse, white sails, treetops turning brilliant shades of red, yellow, orange...
Of course, the effort made me sweaty and hungry. So I picked up a local newspaper and stopped into a restaurant downtown for "big fuhd" and a peruse of the local Apartments for Rent ads.
I was deliberately trying not to notice the two gals that sat in a nearby booth that kept glancing over. Was I that messy from the hike? Did I have dirt smeared on my cheeks? What?!?
"I really like your shirt." Smile. "Where'd you get it?" (Is it me or did she do a flirtatious hair flip? No, it must be me.)
So, I told her and FriendGal and blahblahblah farmers' market blahblahblah yoga blahblahblah might know someone with an apartment opening up blahblahblah. Suffice to say, phone numbers were gathered.
So, blah blah blah, Girlfriend's still got game.
Hiking makes me happy in ways that few other things do. The physical exertion, the scent of the trees, the occasional wildlife encounter. (Hello snake, my animal totem of old...) And it doesn't hurt if the trail you're following winds up at the top of a hill that overlooks Gloucester Harbor. Sun sparkling off ocean, lighthouse, white sails, treetops turning brilliant shades of red, yellow, orange...
Of course, the effort made me sweaty and hungry. So I picked up a local newspaper and stopped into a restaurant downtown for "big fuhd" and a peruse of the local Apartments for Rent ads.
I was deliberately trying not to notice the two gals that sat in a nearby booth that kept glancing over. Was I that messy from the hike? Did I have dirt smeared on my cheeks? What?!?
"I really like your shirt." Smile. "Where'd you get it?" (Is it me or did she do a flirtatious hair flip? No, it must be me.)
So, I told her and FriendGal and blahblahblah farmers' market blahblahblah yoga blahblahblah might know someone with an apartment opening up blahblahblah. Suffice to say, phone numbers were gathered.
So, blah blah blah, Girlfriend's still got game.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Mabon
Mabon, (pronounced MAY-bun, MAY-bone, MAH-boon, or MAH-bawn) is the Autumn Equinox. The Autumn Equinox divides the day and night equally, and we all take a moment to pay our respects to the impending dark. We also give thanks to the waning sunlight, as we store our harvest of this year's crops.Mabon is considered a time of the Mysteries. It is a time to honor Aging Deities and the Spirit World. Considered a time of balance, it is when we stop and relax and enjoy the fruits of our personal harvests, whether they be from toiling in our gardens, working at our jobs, raising our families, or just coping with the hussle-bussle of everyday life. May your Mabon be memorable, and your hearts and spirits be filled to overflowing!
Friday, September 21, 2007
Why I Love Yoga
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I love yoga because it always always gives you exactly what you need.
Just got an email in from one of the many Yoga newsletters I'm on. This weekend is the celebration of International Peace Day, marked by the Global Mala project. And there's a studio near me that's hosting an event.
108 minutes of Sun Salutations to bring about peace. 4 rounds of 27 in this order:
Round One: Dedications for Personal Transformation and Realization.
Round Two: Dedications for Family, Friends and Precious Jewels
Round Three: Dedications for the World
Round Four: Dedications to the Source
Round Two: Dedications for Family, Friends and Precious Jewels
Round Three: Dedications for the World
Round Four: Dedications to the Source
Is this exactly what I needed or what?
Join in folks! You can practice in your living room, in your backyard, in your car. If you can't do a Sun Salutation, practice pranayama or just sit. It's for PEACE people.
Namaste.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Relationship 2.0
What I learned at therapy tonight:
If you do not learn from history, you are doomed to repeat it.
To this I say: DUH.
And yet, I obviously had to 1) live through it again 2) pay someone for 45 minutes of time to realize this.
Let's raise a glass in defense of V3.0.
If you do not learn from history, you are doomed to repeat it.
To this I say: DUH.
And yet, I obviously had to 1) live through it again 2) pay someone for 45 minutes of time to realize this.
Let's raise a glass in defense of V3.0.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Focus
At writing group last night, we had a High Fidelity moment - the three out of five of us who are suffering through/recovering from recent breakups made a list of top five breakup songs of all time. (I'm slightly embarrassed to say this conversation was brought on by my mention of the recent ticket purchase to the Morrissey show. Moz, how I love thee!)
So, in honor of Nick Hornby and John Cusack I give you ...
Good things that have happened to me in one week:
So, in honor of Nick Hornby and John Cusack I give you ...
Good things that have happened to me in one week:
- I got a new job
- Awesome yoga teacher is back teaching evenings
- I got to tell HR what I think of Napolean w/out fear
- I found out my gym has a "sister" gym exactly 3.6 miles from my new office. No joining fees!
- I don't have to go to FL for a tradeshow so I can go to the Eye of the Tiger class with Todd Norian and Ann Green
- I got a week's delay on my start date so I have a week to scratch my ass (or, more likely, hike and write)
- Morrissey tickets
- I've reconnected with some old and new friends - amazing people all
- I've lost five more pounds (ah, the grief diet)
- I signed up for NaNoWriMo (details forthcoming)
If you look for the good in things, you're sure to find it -- Pollyanna
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Doors. Windows.
Things in my life are moving at such a hectic pace.
My friend today told me, "I've never seen anyone more in tune with the energy of The Universe." I guess I kind of see what she means. Of course, I didn't actually want The Universe to make my boyfriend break up with me. But who am I to question divine wisdom?
I got the offer today. And it is truly an offer I can't refuse. OK, I could refuse it, but then I'd be dumber than a bag of hammers.
In so many ways it seems so perfect. A great job in a great location with great people. I mean, seriously, an olde manse on a hill in the middle of a forest? A house that's filled with spiralling staircases, wrought iron detailing, and a ghost? A chance to work with old and new friends (I already know two people that work there!). A reason to move to the North Shore - Salem, Gloucester, Manchester. Better pay (by a lot). Better benefits (by even more). And only one day's difference in vacation time. Not to even mention the chance to throw Napolean under the bus with my resignation letter....
So, what the...?
Well, what's really and truly making me sad in the midst of all this fabulous opportunity is this. I'm making this huge life decision without Mr. Zips by my side.
I know (IknowIknowIknowIknow) I've been feeling the Stage:Anger portion of grief for a bit now. It's a coping mechanism, a tool to help me move on, move past. But the reality is that I am still so damn sad. So damn heartbroken. So crushed.
And so I don't want to make this decision without him. Not that I have a choice. Not that I can call him up and tell him the news much less ask his opinion. But how sad it is that I have to.
Slacky said this to me today: "Well, I guess this is like they say, when a door closes a window opens."
I told him: Sometimes there's a part of you that really (really) wishes that you could leave that door open a tiny, little crack, just so the nightlight will shine through.
My friend today told me, "I've never seen anyone more in tune with the energy of The Universe." I guess I kind of see what she means. Of course, I didn't actually want The Universe to make my boyfriend break up with me. But who am I to question divine wisdom?
I got the offer today. And it is truly an offer I can't refuse. OK, I could refuse it, but then I'd be dumber than a bag of hammers.
In so many ways it seems so perfect. A great job in a great location with great people. I mean, seriously, an olde manse on a hill in the middle of a forest? A house that's filled with spiralling staircases, wrought iron detailing, and a ghost? A chance to work with old and new friends (I already know two people that work there!). A reason to move to the North Shore - Salem, Gloucester, Manchester. Better pay (by a lot). Better benefits (by even more). And only one day's difference in vacation time. Not to even mention the chance to throw Napolean under the bus with my resignation letter....
So, what the...?
Well, what's really and truly making me sad in the midst of all this fabulous opportunity is this. I'm making this huge life decision without Mr. Zips by my side.
I know (IknowIknowIknowIknow) I've been feeling the Stage:Anger portion of grief for a bit now. It's a coping mechanism, a tool to help me move on, move past. But the reality is that I am still so damn sad. So damn heartbroken. So crushed.
And so I don't want to make this decision without him. Not that I have a choice. Not that I can call him up and tell him the news much less ask his opinion. But how sad it is that I have to.
Slacky said this to me today: "Well, I guess this is like they say, when a door closes a window opens."
I told him: Sometimes there's a part of you that really (really) wishes that you could leave that door open a tiny, little crack, just so the nightlight will shine through.
Think Arthur, Think!
"The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then - to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. "
-- T.H. White, The Once and Future King
-- T.H. White, The Once and Future King
Monday, September 17, 2007
I'm Being Born and I Am Dying
Met with my book group tonight for a screening of Orlando (book written by Virginia Woolf, movie starring Tilda Swinton). It was great. Except for the massive technical difficulties at first, the night went off famously. I'd forgotten how great that movie was - how perfectly Tilda embodies the character, the emotion of Orlando. And how friggin tongue-in-cheek perfect the scene w/ Billy Zane was, full of mist, dark horse, dark hair. Oh, yeah, and how completely ridiculous the ending is with that gold lame angel. Where the hell did that come from?
The first time I watched Orlando was at Colby, after we set several pieces in a longer dance work to songs from the soundtrack. The ending was set to "Coming" - a haunting piece that talks about life, death, rebirth. Or, more eloquently, "life is not a whatnot and its none of your goddamn business."
After tonight's movie, we all decided we'd had such a good time we should do this again next Monday. If men can have Monday night football, we can have MadFemmePride movie night. After we're even going to go for some beers. I laughed a lot - even though I barely know most of the people. And I found myself looking forward to next week.
Funny, to think that if this night had been scheduled two weeks ago, I probably wouldn't have gone. Would have needed to get home. Watch How I Met Your Mother. Figure out what to do for dinner. Be a dutiful wife, er, um, girlfriend. And I wonder - to the point of sobbing myself to sleep - why I have no friends in town.
I'm actually looking forward to next week. We're going to watch "Another Kind of Marriage," an account of Vita Sackville West's lover before she met Virginia Woolf. (What can I say, gals in the groups are obsessed with V.W.) And, for previews, we're going to screen an 18-minute stag film that one of the gals bought at an estate sale. I warned everyone: soon we're going to get labelled as "those crazy lesbos that watch porn in the Harvard Science Buildings." You know what? I don't care.
The first time I watched Orlando was at Colby, after we set several pieces in a longer dance work to songs from the soundtrack. The ending was set to "Coming" - a haunting piece that talks about life, death, rebirth. Or, more eloquently, "life is not a whatnot and its none of your goddamn business."
After tonight's movie, we all decided we'd had such a good time we should do this again next Monday. If men can have Monday night football, we can have MadFemmePride movie night. After we're even going to go for some beers. I laughed a lot - even though I barely know most of the people. And I found myself looking forward to next week.
Funny, to think that if this night had been scheduled two weeks ago, I probably wouldn't have gone. Would have needed to get home. Watch How I Met Your Mother. Figure out what to do for dinner. Be a dutiful wife, er, um, girlfriend. And I wonder - to the point of sobbing myself to sleep - why I have no friends in town.
I'm actually looking forward to next week. We're going to watch "Another Kind of Marriage," an account of Vita Sackville West's lover before she met Virginia Woolf. (What can I say, gals in the groups are obsessed with V.W.) And, for previews, we're going to screen an 18-minute stag film that one of the gals bought at an estate sale. I warned everyone: soon we're going to get labelled as "those crazy lesbos that watch porn in the Harvard Science Buildings." You know what? I don't care.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
The Hill
I think 24 hours in the Nation's Capital was enough. Not that I didn't have a great time. It was fabulous seeing BBB again - every three years just isn't enough. But the DC life just not a life I could ever envision myself leading. The bars, the networking, the ever buzzing city. It was a very distracting 24 hours.
I marched in my first ever peace march. Okay, not really. We were headed to touristville (the Smithsonions) and stumbled upon the Answer Peace March. I'm not a fan of Answser, but I am a fan of peace. Apparently (according to the locals) this was a small rally, but it looked pretty big to me. (Note: see how small it really was? Itty bitty living space...)
After the "march", we made it up to the field surrounding the Washington Monument and sat down in the sun. I talked some, got quiet some, BBB showed off his brilliance and wit. I got a sunburn. It was really, really nice. On the way back to his place, I stopped at a CVS. The woman behind the counter asked me how I was and, automatically, I replied, "I'm good." It was only later that I realized it was kind of true.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm still sad girl. Cried the moment I walked into the door at home. Even cried at the friggin laundromat. But, BBB has seen me come out the other side of messier things than this and reminded me, once again, how strong I am.
The night - surprise! - was filled with bourbon and discussion. We managed to find a quiet, out of the way table and talk ourselves into oblivion. As per usual. I haven't made any decisions yet - not that there are any explicitely to make - but I do feel hope. And, more than that, I remembered parts of myself that I'd forgotten were there. Things I'd repressed for so long because I'd gotten so fearful of being alone.
And getting off the plane at Logan, I remembered a similar arrival so many years ago now. Another arrival when I was greeted by a husband and felt myself deciding, then and there, that having someone always to greet me was not necessarily more important than "following my bliss." It seemed easier, back then, to say that my entire life was ahead of me, that I would rather be happy and alone than paired off and mostly content. Of course, I was seven years younger then and knew a lot less about the world.
Still, flying home, getting into my car, making it home to the kitties and the bathroom floors - which were NOT peed on! you go girls! - I felt myself taking back a little bit of a Kalesy who'd gone away for awhile. The one who's proud she went to a good school and, yes, used to be an "obnoxious college kid." The one who believes it's important to go to a peace rally even though she knows it will never change a single thing. The one who likes sitting on the patio at the bar, having cocktails until the sun goes down, talking about things that matter (the Iowa gay marriage case) and things that don't matter (that girl should NOT being wearing those pants).
I'm glad, so glad, I went. And I'm glad, so glad, and so very very grateful I have such amazing friends.
I marched in my first ever peace march. Okay, not really. We were headed to touristville (the Smithsonions) and stumbled upon the Answer Peace March. I'm not a fan of Answser, but I am a fan of peace. Apparently (according to the locals) this was a small rally, but it looked pretty big to me. (Note: see how small it really was? Itty bitty living space...)
After the "march", we made it up to the field surrounding the Washington Monument and sat down in the sun. I talked some, got quiet some, BBB showed off his brilliance and wit. I got a sunburn. It was really, really nice. On the way back to his place, I stopped at a CVS. The woman behind the counter asked me how I was and, automatically, I replied, "I'm good." It was only later that I realized it was kind of true.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm still sad girl. Cried the moment I walked into the door at home. Even cried at the friggin laundromat. But, BBB has seen me come out the other side of messier things than this and reminded me, once again, how strong I am.
The night - surprise! - was filled with bourbon and discussion. We managed to find a quiet, out of the way table and talk ourselves into oblivion. As per usual. I haven't made any decisions yet - not that there are any explicitely to make - but I do feel hope. And, more than that, I remembered parts of myself that I'd forgotten were there. Things I'd repressed for so long because I'd gotten so fearful of being alone.And getting off the plane at Logan, I remembered a similar arrival so many years ago now. Another arrival when I was greeted by a husband and felt myself deciding, then and there, that having someone always to greet me was not necessarily more important than "following my bliss." It seemed easier, back then, to say that my entire life was ahead of me, that I would rather be happy and alone than paired off and mostly content. Of course, I was seven years younger then and knew a lot less about the world.
Still, flying home, getting into my car, making it home to the kitties and the bathroom floors - which were NOT peed on! you go girls! - I felt myself taking back a little bit of a Kalesy who'd gone away for awhile. The one who's proud she went to a good school and, yes, used to be an "obnoxious college kid." The one who believes it's important to go to a peace rally even though she knows it will never change a single thing. The one who likes sitting on the patio at the bar, having cocktails until the sun goes down, talking about things that matter (the Iowa gay marriage case) and things that don't matter (that girl should NOT being wearing those pants).
I'm glad, so glad, I went. And I'm glad, so glad, and so very very grateful I have such amazing friends.
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