I Am Ridiculously Cute

It's been a bi-polar day. Some really amazing news (apparently the interview went much better than I thought) some really irratating news (two peeps leaving writing groups and being very mysterious as to reasons why. Woman who's story was reviewed this week (me!) is paranoid... )

So, it's been mood swings galore.

Still, I got home to this:

Is she the epitome of adorableness or what? Just makes me so sad that I've had to leave her alone so much these past few weeks. Of course, she's let me know how angry she is - it's like missing the litter is an Olympic Sport and she's in training....

Good thing Momma loves her Kitty.

Am I Good Enough? Smart Enough? Do People Like Me?

I went on a job interview today - with a well-known and well-respected agency north of Boston. I have no idea how it went. When I interview - especially with so many smart and talented people, all the damn insecurities creep out. So, I wind up clamming up, getting nervous, and basically turning into Freakazoid. And then I get to my car and realize all the things I shoulda woulda said.

I was much more relaxed and had a much better meeting with the second person I met. Unfortunately, he's not the hiring manager. Still, he does influence the hiring manager, so there's that. Plus, I have two folks on the inside that I like and respect on this inside rooting for me.

Here's the thing - and I know this is premature. If I get this gig, my whole life would change. Goodbye leaving early to catch the yoga class w/ the awesome teacher. Goodbye being able to goof off a fair amount b/c there's no one in the office to tell. Of course, there's also the fact that it would allow my creativity to flourish, would pay better, wouldn't involve Napolean, and could even (theoretically) support a move to Salem or Gloucester.

So, I've got lots of thinking to do if - and that's a big IF - I land this gig...

In other news, I went to yoga tonight, to calm down, so to speak. Afterwards, I noticed a fellow student getting into a car with an Anusara bumper sticker. So we start chatting and it sounds like she's connected in with other local Anusarians. Instant kula! She gave me her email and I'm gonna send her a mail tomorrow. Maybe, just maybe, finally some friends....

So with that, I'm gonna stop shoulding all over myself, Stuart Smalley.

I Do

I'm back safe and sound from Mr. Zips' best friend's wedding. And, despite two hangovers, a complete lack of sleep, and lots of time spent hanging out in airport lounges, I'm mostly glad I went.

It was nice to spend time with Mr. Zip's friends and nice to see how the other half live. 'Cuz the bride's family? Yeah, filthy friggin rich. Hopefully Mr. Zips will post some of the piccies so I can load 'em up.

Because so many people were flying in from so far away, the happy couple had planned lots of things for everyone to do. Which was pleasant because it gave us a chance to meet lots of really cool, talented, creative people. But also gave us absolutely no downtown. Mr. Zips and I didn't get to explore the city at all - no sculpture garden, no Mississippi, no St. Paul and the new Japanese Zen Garden.

What surprised me most about the whole weekend was my complete and total sappy emotional reaction to it. The shindig made me almost want to get married again. Almost. I guess at heart I'm just a stinkin romantic and need to get myself to a 12-step meeting right away. Or, at the very least, stay far far away from weddings.

Anyway, I've got work in the a.m. and then a very exciting interview on Wednesday. (Keep your fingers crossed!) But I've been up since 8 (went to bed at 2 a.m.) and travelling all day. So, it's bed time for me.

When Paranoia Happens to Good People

I've been overcome with some random paranoia for the last few days. Maybe it's because I spent time at the family homestead, rife as it is with mental illness. (No, seriously. Diagnosed. Medicated. Now you know why I might be the way I am...)

Anyway, I've been paranoid that Mr. Zips is mad at me. I've been paranoid that Napolean is about to fire me. I've been paranoid that my complete and utter slackage has been noticed at work. I've been paranoid that I really don't want to be a writer.

So, I haven't been the easiest person in the world to deal with of late. I study asana, but it probably won't amount to much unless I put the yoga sutras to work in my life. Eh?

That said, I do have a couple of things to be proud of/ thankful for.

I finished up my submission for writing group so early that I've sent it to myself to review before I send it out to everyone. And I didn't even have to fall back onto my "safety story."

I finished up an entire box of dental floss. This might not be a big thing for most people, but this is the first time I have EVER achieved this milestone. I'm taking my health seriously. Go me!

I have an interview and a book club meeting tomorrow. New job opportunities and new friend opportunities all in one night!

And, finally, a mixed emotional tale:

Mr. Zips is massively stressed out about the upcoming Best Friend's Wedding. He left tonight so that he could get home and prepare -- do laundry, clean room, pack, etc. etc. And while it saddens me that he won't be here to snuggle with me tonight and that he's so stressed about this brue ha ha he's literally losing sleep over it, there is a part of me that is vindicated. Maybe now he understands why I freak out every time I have a long ass business trip. Maybe now he gets it when I stress about cleaning up the apartment or using up food I've got in the crisper or stopping at the grocery store now instead of when I get back... I don't want to be vindictive, but there is a certain amount of pleasure in the "I told you so" reality.

But alas, it's nearly midnight. Time to go to bed and hopefully dream dreams that are not rife with paranoia. A girl can hope.

Romy and Michelle ...

was not a good movie ...

Still, I can't help but think about it as I sit here, in my parents' kitchen, reading an email about my 15th High School Reunion. There's something disturbing about it as I prepare to pack up and head back to Boston bright and early tomorrow. Packing tonight because there's absolutely nothing else for me to do in town tonight, a Saturday night, because I don't know a single young soul in this state any longer.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Oh, Mr. Tierney. A history of mental illness. A naked blonde walks into a bar, with a poodle under one arm and a 12-foot salami under the other arm....

Obviously, I'm not the only person in the world with agida about my high school past.