Sizes. Why do they matter?

On Sunday I picked up my friend special-K and we went to the Mall. We had hair appointments and then were going to do some recreational shopping. It was nice, I got the run-down from her date the night before, and a good hair day (no matter how expensive) is always appreciated.

I know this seems like a run of the mill experience, but it is really just the ground work for what happened later.

We shopped until we were satisfied we had spent way too much money, then went back to her place to meet the griz. In our friendships, we have this tradition called "the bin" which happens to be a container in which we deposit clothes we don't want for whatever reason, thereby making them open to all takers. Generally most of the items are given to charity, but this way we get to pick through and help each other. Bear in mind there are extreme body differences between the three of us: special-k is stretching to reach five feet tall size 4-6 (B) that repeatedly has to lop a foot off of her pants, while the griz is about 5'6'' now 6-8 (C). I on the other hand, am around 5'9'' (i think) and sized 12-14 (c). I am at least double their size. I tower. I look like the Rock, preparing to lay the smack down on the populace vs them... skilled jockeys.

I don't usually feel too bad about it, because I have attributes to soften my amazon-ness, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a feminine bone structure. However, both of them were formerly double their size, griz at 14, special-k at 10. Granted, I still play sports and have more muscle than the two of them put together, but that doesn't make me feel any better about anything. The fact remains that I'm a giant. My BMI is 26, putting me into the overweight category, and forcing me to re-evaluation of my size. In real life I'm in pretty good shape, but need to loose some weight.

So, I have started methodically tracking everything I eat and all my exercise. I've been at it about a week, and I've lost 3 lbs. As an athlete, it makes me kinda sad that I have reduced myself to this, when not long ago I prided myself on being able to eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it.

Back to the story. The girls insisted on going through the "bin" for me, to see what I could take with me. RIIIIIGHTT..... I said, I don't think that's necessary, I just shopped a ton all day. (my attempt at placating them) Oh, I continued, and I'm sure the charity would like all the clothes they can get, no worries, I'll be fine. Its Tradition! They screeched... and with that the bin was purged, All my self esteem plummeting to the ground with it. They start picking through... oh.. this might fit... oh... she's got big shoulders... just try it... oh.... maybe not.....*sigh*

They weren't intending to make me feel like a cow. They wanted me to find something spectacular for me out of the BIN, but in the process I felt like a life-sized Barbie trying to fit into her doll-sized counterpart's wardrobe. It was scarring. Obviously, or I wouldn't be blogging about it. so. now I feel huge, and would like to cry. did you know that once you loose weight, the daily recommended caloric intake necessary for continuing to loose weight keeps going down? I'm down to like 1,450 calories a day! That's insane. I've been working out just to increase endorphins to deal with the stress of it all. Luckily that means I can squeeze in a bit more food. ugh. I want to cry and never put on clothes again.

It won't be soon before long.

What does that mean Maroon 5? I listened to your interview Adam Levine on the countdown with Ryan Seacrest. Even you couldn't explain it without sounding high.

It wont be soon before long...
If you wait long enough, sooner rather becomes later?

Apparently I haven't done enough drugs to understand the deeper meaning. I still like the cd. It's worth the 4-5 yr hiatus. Complex, it includes flashes-back to the 50s and 70s sounds of begees and temptations. A nice intermingling of old and new lyrics, tying the two albums together. Nice.

I've changed.

Apparently, I've changed.
I think change is one of those things that you never really realize is happening, because you aren't able to remove yourself from the reality. No one actually has time to notice a drastic change in themselves, you are too busy living it.

Right. That fact established, I am sitting at my desk in my office wondering how it all happened. Granted, I work like a crazy person, and have basically lived for my career advancement the past 2 years, but how did I change? I have run into old bosses, co-workers, and kids from high school and college; and all of them have told me that I am DIFFERENT.

Thanks. Different? really?

Every time someone says that to me, I want to scream "ARE YOU KIDDING??" yea, of course I'm different. I'm a boss. I am responsible. I have standing meetings. I have somehow convinced those around me that I deserve to be here and have added value. I personally think its all crap.

I'm negotiating for a new job, and I feel terrible about it. I have been struggling with it for a good two weeks now, trying to decide why I feel like I'm lying every time I write a new negotiation letter, and today I figured it out. I feel like there is no way a 23yr old kid should ever be given as much as I have. I feel like I owe the world big-time for all this opportunity. People my age don't do this... they are going to keggers. They are going to college, grad school, trade, law, working, marrying, and feeding their kids. But not me. I am sitting here worrying that I am severely lacking, and there is no way possible I should be up for this new job, much less negotiating for a bigger package to do it.

This job is the pinnacle of my area of expertise. Its almost solely male-dominated, and known for doing things like firing women for getting pregnant. (not that it is legal, but trust and believe you won't win that lawsuit...) Its a huge deal. prestige out the butt, and here I am thinking, holy shit. There is no way I am smart enough, can write well enough, or even speak clearly enough to do this job. In fact, every time I think about it, the sheer nervous reaction induced warrants curling into the fetal position followed by intense shaking.

Where did I find the audacity to believe I can do this? How can I sit there and jump into something this big? I'm not trained, I slept through most of college, and I don't actually form real thoughts for myself. How can I ever earn respect in this? Who could respect me in this job? I'm twelve years old! Most of my colleges will have staplers older than me.

So, yes, I've changed. Giant tearing skin off of my body changes. I wear suits everyday and drink coffee like its nectar. I speak. In meetings even. I speak up for myself! Jesus, I never would have done that in the past. I interrupt others, who have doctorates from Harvard. How in the world this happened is beyond me. I don't care what people think, and I work all the time? No one would have predicted this.

Picture me in college. Orange hair because I dyed it that way, sporting running shorts a ball cap and a t-shirt, sleeping with one arm moving in a fashion intended to look like note-taking. OMG. I was the girl people hated because she slept through class and didn't care. I am crazy arrogant, and people like that(?). I run for offices, and my campaign speeches consist of...I show up; (because that's all i can honestly say) and people vote for me. I don't make campaign promises, and don't deliver anything extraordinary, but get re-elected. I am that girl that everyone wishes that they could hate, but they can't really nail down a reason to actually do so, and are likely afraid to, because they will be alone. Even the table 9rs won't admit to disliking me. Girls make up terrible rumors: saying that I have STDs, steal, and have sex with any guy and any multiple numbers of them. Yet, no one dares to tell me, because they want me on their side.

Only I never knew any of that. I thought people didn't know me, voted for me because they didn't like the jerk I ran against, and I never wanted to be talked to/much less about. I slept in class because I was tired, my roommate was on drugs and snored like crazy. I didn't know how to interact with girls, and I didn't gossip. My grades sucked in all honesty, my parents got really mad and threatened to take me out of school, so I had to hide my grades every summer. I always came home and worked on breaks, never having a "crazy spring break", and worked two jobs during the year to pay for my family's portion of tuition. I thought people noticed me because I was a giant. I wasn't there a lot because i didn't want forced interaction. I figured if I was a non-entity, I was forgettable. The funniest part about it, was that I thought it actually worked.

I had a few things elucidated for me, now I'm a cynical and perhaps witty bizach. I got screwed at work, now I fight back. I lost friends, and forged on. I realized that as long as I watched out for myself in everything, I could work it all out. I'm hardened, angry, and focused. All of this is the result of dealing with life. I suppose this all shows in my demeanor, but I can't see it. To me its all internal changes. I'm maybe heavier than my younger self, with longer hair in a normal color, but nothing externally.

Outside, I am cool, calm, and collected. No hair out of place, no worries, just focus. Ha. If that is what is coming across I should be an actress, not this job. I don't do things I don't want to, and I don't mince words, because I don't see the point; not because I'm spectacular. I keep busy because I think less, and work better. I guess I grew up. I'm being groomed for lofty heights I don't think are anywhere near possible, but I am determined anyway.

In short, I've got better things to do, and no one is going to beat me out. Some how it translates into jobs on silver platters, and more leave than I will ever dream of using. That doesn't mean that I deserve any of it, just that I happen to walk into the right place at the right time.

I guess I have changed. Not necessarily for the better, but drastically if nothing else. I will always wonder if there was some innate plan for me, but I will never understand it. I guess I will keep going in this path, and hope for the best.

Why I hate negitiations.

Its not really negotiations in general that I hate, its more of salary/benefits negotiations. I feel skeezy, dirty, and conniving.
Why?
Because I totally am. I am attacking every aspect of that counter offer like a rot tearing through a t-bone. Yes, I checked with experienced people, I talked to everyone that could possibly help, even brez gave me wording help so i wouldn't screw myself over.
I feel gross. I will never understand why these things can't be fair, and why I had to turn into a nepotist. Later, I will rationalize how being a nepotist isn't really that bad. Stay tuned...

being a girl is a blower.

my back hurts, and I feel like a Mac truck was driven through my lower half. It's awesome. I'm lying. it totally sucks.

Review of the past week.

When I was a child, no one ever said to me " Girl, you will come to a time in your life when you are tired. Tired of helping everyone else, counselling, teaching, and generally worrying for them. You, girl, are the kind of person that will not know when to say no. You, girl, will so want to help protect those you love, that you will take beatings for them, you will tell them the harsh truth, and you will even work to protect the country from harm. "

If God had given me a manual on day one of time in the womb, I would have studied that manual and asked, why can't you do all this? Why will I feel so compelled to help? Doesn't that seem like a waste of my minuscule abilities when you could do these things o much better?
I'm not sure if God would have answered womb-girl, but I think I would still give it a shot.

I suppose when I get old and reflect on my life's progression, I will be proud of the girl that still felt that she could change the world. That she could (at a ripe old age of 23) manage to prove that ageism, sexism, and every other social mores could be forgotten. That republicans and democrats can be friends. That 16yr old girls can learn something that isn't about boys or cars. That the shy little girl that was only recognized for reading hundreds of books in a 5Th grade summer, could work through life and move on to jobs where a large part of her worth is based on negotiating skills between "challenging executives".

I took my grandma and mother to the white house yesterday, I often wonder what she thinks of her life, but I've never had the gall to ask her. Does she regret fighting with my grandfather constantly? Was she okay with having to raise her younger siblings? How did she keep from crying all the time when her child died? Or when her son went off to Vietnam? As much as we didn't get along earlier in my life, we have both matured, and grown to a mutual tolerance and respect. So Sunday when I made sure she was protected, I didn't really mind. She is the reason I told the jerk-off guy that followed us along where he could go. I didn't mind that although I was sleep starved, thirsty, and walking blocks upon blocks to something I didn't care about, I was happy to carry her. To wrap my arm under hers and hold her up so she could keep up, to walk 8 blocks out of my way to get her water, and to maintain a smile all the while. It was her birthday wish, and I owe her. If it hadn't been for her toughness, I never would have been born.

Somebody once said to me...

"Why you? Because to put simply, I think you are beautiful in every
possible way. & who knows, things may be different one day. "

WOW. That, was a reply to a "I just want to be friends" speech I once gave. He was one of my best friends, who even though I was committed, believed that if I only knew how he really felt I would abandon my serial-monogamy lifestyle and become his.

Granted, as cold as I often may seem, I tend to be a bit of a guarded romantic, so this statement caused me to rethink the speech I had just relayed. The fact that someone was first open about something like that, even when I had just (nicely mind you) rejected him, made me wonder how one could go through life without the reciprocation of affection.

Brez told me the other day that he didn't date anyone after el diablo and before me. He of course knows that I dated everyone and their grandfathers... (j/k) so I was taken aback. All this time, I had pictured him out with a billion girls just like I was out with guys. I was so consumed with myself, that I didn't even notice that he never mentioned a girls name, told me about a date, or even laughed at how some girl had some random idiosyncrasy... because I was so wrapped up in me.

In me, in the hippy, the hot old guy, the other old guy, the ball player, my ex, and then brez. The brez was the one I called at 4am on my way home from a too-long party. And oftentimes he answered at 4am. And when he called me at 4am, I always answered, because I frankly adored him. Although I never mentioned it to him, that is until I told him that when he had drunkenly mentioned that i should visit, i had bought a flight. :) he he:) oh, and did I mention that I told him I loved him like 20min after our first kiss. ugh.

Looking back, I think I am retarded in love. I am amazed at how I loose all bearings on normalcy and just shoot straight from the hip. I suppose that is one part of my life that is better when it isn't regimented, organized, and critiqued.

For once in my life.

For once in my life I have someone who needs me
Someone I've needed so long
For once unafraid I can go where life leads me
And somehow I know I'll be strong
For once I can touch What my heart used to dream of
Long before I knew Someone warm like you
Could make my dream come true
For once in my life I won't let sorrow hurt me
Not like it's hurt me before For once I've got someone I know won't desert me
I'm not alone anymore For once I can say
This is mine, you can't take it
As long as I've got love I know I can make it
For once in my life I've got someone who needs me.

Not my favorite song of all time, but its damn good. Its scary as hell, but kinda nice to realize that if I were to give myself a chance at the looming forever, it would be okay. The love is there.

When life throws you a curveball.

When life throws you a curve ball, what do you do with it?

It is an anomaly, not necessarily bad just unexpected. Everyone sees the fastball coming, but the curve... it requires finger placement. A good pitcher can laugh while you stare the pitch down, waiting to destroy it- straight into right field... and then grin with satisfaction when he sees that moment of realization.

In that split-second, you see it. You can't quite believe that fastball has morphed so convincingly, and is currently plummeting whilst you are mid-swing.

You aren't quite quick enough to react and save that last strike from pushing you further into the grip of OUT!

You know that if that red-laced, round-faced, little ingrate that has nothing but stitches holding it together could talk, it would be belittling, deriding, and discrediting all those hours of excruciating practice, dedication and persistent toil.

Which further infuriates you. The ump yells OOOOUUUUUUTTTTT! You throw down your Louisville Slugger in disgust, turning to him -in his not so infinite wisdom- and scream, kick, and curse your way to being thrown out. Never mind that this little tantrum is going to have repercussions, you don't care. Its not fair. Not fair that something that was so perfect could then be questioned, glanced at, and then forced from your grasp.

You can convince yourself later that you didn't care about that pitch, that out. Everyone knows that is a lie. But its fine.

Do you ever wonder ???

What the soundtrack of your life would be? Obviously it would be long, but have you ever really broken down your life like you would a movie?

Each segment or mini-plot line having its own theme, and therefore its own genre?

Okay, I commute. Today it took me 4.5 hours to get to work. Since this is obviously such an extreme expanse of my 24hrs, it should get a genre. How about...alternative rock. The kind of music that can range from slightly poppy to I-want-to-kill-myself-or-someone-in-the-car-next-to-me-because-their-music-sucks.... theme.

Then work, should be teen-beat style pop, (now channeling Britney and Lindsay) like :FCUK me...i am so hot and you want my job, don't worry, I'll become an addict because of the pressure and you can take it while I shave my head in a salon and chain smoke then do lines off of a skanky dude.....

Followed by vball, which should be angry, like... She F*ing HATES ME... and then mixed with Jay-z's 99 problems, or perhaps Danger Mouse's version...

Moving to family time, which would be oldies, maybe a nice Herman's Hermits tune... Henry VII?

Ending finally with sleep, bf and gf drama/interaction, and showering.... hum... perhaps “First Day of My Life” by Bright Eyes.

Yup, that seems like the best way to end my life soundtrack; with a song so hopelessly hopeful that one who has actually lived has nothing left to do but laugh at the implied irony, and one that is still awaiting life will smile and tear up a bit in anticipation.

Oh the spring...

Spring time in the city. Beautiful. Cherry blossoms surround the waters of the Potomac, the birds chirp, and the tourists appear in droves. Yes, tourists, this posting is for you.

You, fine people, are the Rolex on our already established city. We, the locals love that you come to our city, steeped in history which we have no time to appreciate, to spend your money. Other than your "hard-earned family vacation spending money", we don't like you. We tolerate you, and oftentimes not well.

You further clog our already teeming streets with your touring buses violently expelling your country-bumpkin attitudes: obviously disregarding pedestrian traffic signals, calling for cabs when you alone weighing 600lbs could not fit in the grand marquis-much less your two 300lbs 6yr olds and 700lb wife, and becoming the inevitable cherry blossom snarl in which you insist that parking lot is free thus you must park there; god help us locals just trying to get home around your mini-vans from Arkansas.

You folks, are the reason other nations hate us. Your blatant disregard for all laws, social graces, and cleanliness push our fair city into the dark ages for the warm months of spring and summer. Those of us who live/work in the national capital region prefer to mind our own business, not answer your directional queries. We are not lifeguards to save you from the hunger pains of our vast metropolis; we prefer in fact, to maintain our definitive stroke, speedy and uninterrupted by your negligence.

If you visit the NCR, please plan accordingly. Make a plan. Know the difference between the inner and outer beltway and what that implies to your trip to the African American history museum in Anacostia. Don't drive 2mi/hr and photograph monuments/landmarks (you could be plotting a terrorist attack, and we would recognize that fact and warn the appropriate authorities).

Avoid walking into the street in front of our cars. Most of us have been in them for hours or will be, thus we will have no problems scaring the hell out of you, capping you, or mowing you over for the points we paint on the fender to show off to our friends. Beware, the faster you move the higher your point value.

Finally, when on the metro, stay out of our way. We are going to make that train arriving, and if we have to take you with us lineman-style, we have no issues with that. In fact, if you land on us we might sue you. When you head up/down the escalator, stand with all your crap on the right side. Do not mosey over to the left. This is for serious commuters who have an SOP, and will refuse to take any of your ambling bullshit.

Just a friendly FYI from your NCR workers.

a minced version of my letter to the devil/fighting chicken.

Hey El Diablo!
I only had limited knowledge of the last few get-togethers, and I was busy with my Juniors volleyball teams, I think. I appreciate the offer and I will definitely see what I can do to work in a visit. I will be down in Raleigh that weekend for a wedding reception, and I am going to try to truck it over to graduation the next morning. I am not sure what the specifics your plans are, but please keep me informed ; I will try to drag GZ out of the hotel bed to make the drive to [school] too! Don't worry about me, I am movin' up the ranks here in DC [work] , coaching some great [girls], and traveling a ton. GZ is in Africa right now, but when she gets back I'll tell her (I am assuming that is okay) and we will see what we can do. As for you, I hope law school is finishing up well, and you are happy with everything. Tell the [other ho-bags] I say Hey! Don't worry, I wouldn't stay away because of you, I understand that you probably need/ed some time without Brez nor me around. It makes sense. I hope everything is going well and I am sure I will talk to you later!

Essentially, everything I wrote was an outright lie. With the exception of how awesome I am, and the fact that I will be at a wedding. I don't think I have ever felt so terrible while writing a letter before. Jesus. Apparently I have grown into an honest person. Damn. I would have been a great villain. too bad. I suppose now I will have to continue in my fight against the dark side.

Social Anxiety Disorder, Thoughts, and El Diablo.

Today, driving into work I had plenty of time to think. I hate it when that happens. Normally I reserve my drive for mindless activity and a complete lack of analysis. Damn it. I just couldn't avoid it any longer.
So... as I was sitting there listening to my morning show, they brought up Social Anxiety Disorder. I of course have never been to anyone that would possibly think of analyzing me, so I have avoided any disorder labels as of present. However, just because I haven't gone doesn't mean I shouldn't have. The DJ started talking about SAD (oh how I love the acronym) and how it is basically the anxiety that consumes one when they are forced to interact with others.

In cognitive models of Social Anxiety Disorder, social phobics experience dread over how they will be presented to others. They may be overly self-conscious, pay high self-attention after the activity, or have high performance standards for themselves. According to the social psychology theory of self-presentation, a sufferer attempts to create a well-mannered impression on others but believes he or she is unable to do so. Many times, prior to the potentially anxiety-provoking social situation, sufferers may deliberate over what could go wrong and how to deal with each unexpected case. After the event, they may have the perception they performed unsatisfactorily. Consequently, they will review anything that may have possibly been abnormal or embarrassing. These thoughts do not just terminate soon after the encounter, but may extend for weeks or longer.[8] Those with social phobia tend to interpret neutral or ambiguous conversations with a negative outlook and although still inconclusive, some studies suggest that socially anxious individuals remember more negative memories than those less distressed.[9] An example of an instance may be that of an employee presenting to his co-workers. During the presentation, the person may stutter a word upon which he or she may worry that other people significantly noticed and think that he or she is a terrible presenter. This cognitive thought propels further anxiety which may lead to further stuttering, sweating and a possible panic attack.

Feared activities may include almost any type of social interaction, especially small groups, dating, parties, talking to strangers, restaurants, etc. Physical symptoms include "mind going blank", fast heartbeat, blushing, stomach ache.(taken from wikipedia's Social Anxiety page)

I think this describes me to a T. Unfortunately that might be one of the
reasons I'm a work-a-holic, because I think I am afraid that if I leave I will
miss something, and thus will be judged as a less than awesome worker. It is stupid I realize, because I know deep down that I am very intelligent and should not worry in any circumstances that I would be judged unfavorably, however, things like the "Captain Learner" keep cropping up in my life, and it certainly doesn't help.

I wish I could be the girl that doesn't have any issues with people like the Brez. Man, I wish I could get over this stupid thought process, because I would be unstoppable! Amazingly enough, I have gotten a lot better about this, I now don't puke every time I have to talk to people en masse. LOL Trust and believe, that is a huge stride. That doesn't mean that I don't over-analyze every little thing that happens everyday. Was my boss smiling at me? Or leering? Does my other boss think I am just hot and ignore everything else that I do/am? What happens if I am less hot, would he want to fire me or feel bad and keep me around? Jesus. I have to stop that crap. I have to tell myself that people look at me initially for the Scarlett effect and then work their way to the brain. Ugh.

Okay, Now that I am having palpitations, I need to move on to El Diablo. She is the brez's ex, and boy would I like to give her a new personality. Granted she probably shouldn't love me, but I really didn't do anything but break girl code. I am dating her ex and she was a suite mate of mine. Although I will now admit I secretly thought that Brez was way to good for her, I never made inappropriate advances, and waited until they had been apart for months (and living in separate regions). She has vilified me in every way possible, spread vicious rumors, and even tried to take him back with out my knowledge. Basically she is really mean and spite full, and as a result of her I have been ostracized by those I formerly viewed as friends. Whatever. I had managed to push her from my mind for a long time until recently when I discovered her attempts to get brez back, which he failed to mention to me... and then again yesterday when she sent me a facebook message. Saying, she is happy for me, she hears from brez that I work a lot, and that she doesn't want to be the thing that keeps our former group divided. Biatch!

You El Diablo, are the reason I loathe my former school. There are of course shining beacons of true friendship that I maintain, but you have singularly managed to force group disownent of a formerly well-received me. I hate you. I hate you because you have forced me to question every friendship, grade, event, and even the validity of my relationship with Brez; who consequentially might be my perfect match. I hate you more than I can possibly put down in words. In fact my hold on the aforementioned SAD was quite good until you struck like a god-damned hurricane, spawning little tornadoes, and a major flood in your wake.

I know what you are doing, telling me that you are still here. You think that I should know that you still, and always will, matter. You want people to believe that it is not you that shun me, rather that I am to blame. You want to clear your conscious because you know that you ruined a large portion of my formerly perceived life. And finally You know that I have moved on, and You want to ruin that for me.

Yes, you are a bitch. I will always hate you. However, I will not play your game. I will not stoop. I am above you and everything that you stand for, your fake Christianity, and your fake morality. I don't have to go to a non-accredited school, I had the job remember? I am above it all. I know that although you are a terrible memory of my past, you should not influence me, nor my actions now. You have in one fell swoop forced me to realize that those people that still talk to me are the ones that I should worry about, hang out with, and care for. So thanks.

Thanks for all that drama. All the tears, all the smears, all the fears. Thanks for making people tell me what they really thought. Thanks for thinking that I was cool enough for that threesome, or that orgy. Thanks for hating the fact that I could not study and do better than you. Finally, thanks for Brez, even if you have scarred him too, and our relationship.

So I'll write you back. I will tell you that I will be down there and I'll see you at graduation. I'll be there for my friend's wedding. I'll be happy to smile and wave, hug you ho-bags, and then be on my merry and successful way. And Thanks Again.

Captain Lerner.

With her L emblazoned upon her super tight super hero outfit, Captain Learner proceeds to capture the imagination of all with her amazing learning abilities and 3% whit. Stand amazed and in AWE of…… CAPTAIN LEARNER

Thanks to a few smarta$$es I work with, I have now been dubbed Captain Learner due to my annual review. That's right, the girl who works 60-70 hr work weeks and is responsible for productivity of whole divisions is below needs improvement. A learner, most definately the bottom of the grading scale. I think if I was not in negotiations to become a superior of my current manager, I would have quit on principle. The best part was the 4 page form was entirely blank. She told me that my 6 months on the job did not warrent her actually writing anything. Nice. I am so inconsequential that I don't even warrent a comment. Ho-bag. Just wait till I surpass her, I never forget crap like this.

Oh... snow on V-Day...

So... It was a mess yesterday. I ordered a giant chocolate-chip cookie and browines for the Brez, to be delivered at 9pm. Losers! That's right Insomnia... I'm talking to you. You better have f-ing fantastic cookies and brownies, because they were 3 hours late. On VDAY! You can't even say it had to do with the damnned weather cause you operate in the damn arctic tundra!!!! I will give you props for delivering to the bar, but work with me here!

I didn't have power most of the day, so i slept. That's right. I didn't clean the 2 inches of ice off my car, I laid under a giant blanket and used my cats as hot water bottles.

Valentine's Day.

I have bought a nice little grouping of things for brez which i had planned on sending him for v-day. Surprising no one, this makes me sad. I have had these things for a while, and I am now just staring at them from my bed every night, wondering.

I can't sleep. I can't be happy for the future, because there is no real looming resolution to the fact that i technically have a boyfriend, but it can only really be labeled as technical at this point; because pending a determination of what a boyfriend should actually be... its limited to technical.

What should a boyfriend be? Someone whom you love? Someone that understands you? Someone that makes you laugh? Sure. The question however, remains, how exactly is that different than a friend? I have friends that serve the same function. I love them, they sometimes understand me better than i do, and make me feel better on a continual basis. Male or female, isn't that what qualifies as a friend?

Everytime I think about it, i want to bawl, curl up in a little ball, and dream it all away. Especially because i do love him.

On Dating.

Currently I am in love with the brez. I went to Boston to see him in October of 2005, and ever since I have been flying back and forth with him, spending vacations with him and his family, and generally enjoying all the time I spent with him. Right now, he has moved to MI, for law school, leaving me (although basically the same distance) rather despondent and honestly minorly bewildered. Basically, I know that his options were limited, and in order to pursue this education he had to move. Now, I see him (hopefully) once a month, and solely at my expenditure. We talk every day for roughly a combined hour, and that's that. I know he loves me, and would not cheat on me, so its not that I am especially worried. More that I have come to realize that we are both growing as adults, with our jobs, family, and economics as catalysts.

Originally when we started this long-distance, we were relatively stable. Since then my job/field of employment/class status has changed drastically, sometimes multiple times. I have grown into an accomplished member of the upper-middle class who has bright prospects for the near future and the leap into the non-middle class and independence that not many women (much less my age) have a shot at. He is back to the world of a student. Loans in abundance, a boarder with a late-30s woman, in a place that might as well be the barren Arctic tundra.

I am back to coaching and thank god, because if i didn't have that as a distraction, I would be significantly more angry and sad than I already am. I suppose I will just maintain those distractions for the future. As it is, I have lost weight, (although I'm not sure how much because I don't own a scale and don't have time to find one) started swimming on the days that I'm not coaching, and generally attempting to occupy myself, my mind, and every waking moment.

Basically, i am about as lonely as it gets, starting my masters, and functioning as a career-driven, exercise-fueled drone who happens to be pissed that she doesn't have anyone to watch sports with, nor (completely by her own doing) have time to take her suits to the cleaners, much less to get them altered. So I'm walking around in pants that are clearly too big for me.

Recently I found myself left wondering why all my previously significant others are either married or engaged to the next girl they dated after me, but no one ever asked me anything that would put me anywhere near that. Granted, if I wanted to quit my life and move to Raleigh to live with a CEO, I'm pretty sure I would be married in a month, but that’s not happening. Not yet anyway. Does it make me a little uneasy that right after me everyone gets hitched? Yes. Mostly because I can’t explain why them and not me.

Now I know, these all seem like inconsequential things to be concerned with, and yes, they are. However, everyone has their issues. No matter how inconsequential they really are in the broad sweeping scheme of things.

It has been a long time

For a while, this blog served as my creative/emotional outlet while dealing with the changes in my life. Understandably, I figured things out, dealt with life in my own way, and then slowly didn't need the outlet anymore. Recently my life has ... changed a bit, so i am again facing new challenges. So, here I am back at the blogging, and re-reading past accounts and laughing at all the things I had forgotten.

I am excited.

I am excited that I didn’t get in a disastrous accident this morning. I was close. Probably going a bit too fast, down onto some "black ice" and I lost control and started spinning. Now thinking about it, I don’t remember seeing anything but the tree I was aiming for and then the car right after that. It’s actually amazing that my body was reacting and steering like a crazy person. Cool. You go body. And thanks… for working it out.

Now, I realize some things.

-People are easily distracted by flying objects. That is why this morning there was no traffic until the president's/vp's helicopters started giving all of us commuters a nice little airshow on deck, thus everyone stopped to watch.

-Old people hate it when young people beat them.

-Girls are supremely mean. WE are. A small portion of us can control that, but man, the ones that can't are little girl-devils.

-Sisterhood is crap. No matter how close you think you are, girls could just be using you to the best of their ability.

-Finding your real friends is hard, but well worth the trials in the end.

-Family is more important than I will ever grasp.

-Just because people are VIPs doesn't mean they are not idiots.

-Even if you forget the cannolis, you should leave the gun.

-When working with people who are full of themselves, it is important to remember that if you think they are full of themselves, than you probably have a rather large ego yourself.

-Anyone that makes you laugh while you are drenching their shoulder and still likes you all pink-faced and blotchy from crying is a "keepah"