Do you remember the drive-in? I don't think there was anywhere else you could go for such little money and have the experience of a double feature, while sitting in the relative comfort of your car. Movies have always been very big in my family (as have inexpensive outings) so going to the drive-in was an exciting event.
We would load up the backseat of the car with me, sometimes one of my friends, blankets, pillows, and snacks and head to the DeAnza drive-in. Usually my friend and I would start out on a blanket in the parking space next to our car so that we could see better, but we would gradually find our way back into the backseat and be asleep by the end of the second movie.
My favorite Disney movie is Sleeping Beauty, partly because of the way the Evil Maleficent and her accompanying music by Tchaikovsky still gives me chills, partly because of how cute Prince Philip is, even if he is a cartoon. One of the main reasons is because I remember being four or five and thrilled with the animation and the music and Maleficent while perched in the open window of our Ford LTD, resting my arms and head on the roof of the car, with my dad's arm securely clamped around my back so that I didn't fall.
I remember seeing my tough grandpa with the closet full of guns and the camp in the Everglades, get choked up over the closing scenes of Beaches. I had seen the movie a few weeks earlier with my best friend and my friend's big sister and her best friend and my friend's mom and her best friend, all six of us weeping copiously at the end, so I knew what was coming. Of course, Papaw played it off, but I knew the truth.
I remember watching the end of Fatal Attraction out of the rear window of the car, eyes and mouth wide open as Glenn Close just would. Not. Die. Not that my parents would have ever taken me to see Fatal Attraction, it just happened to be on the screen behind our car. I saw several other movies I wasn't supposed to see in that manner. Soundlessly, so they lost some of their impact, but it was sort of like having Cinemax unscrambled sometimes.
I had my first taste of sushi at the drive-in. My parents had recently discovered a pan-Asian take-out place and my mom had started eating California Rolls on a regular basis. One night, peering through the two front seats at the roll, I asked if I could try one. Now that I've had real sushi, I'm sure I would find it disgusting, but at the time, it was the most amazing thing I had ever tasted.
Happily, the DeAnza drive-in is still open. If you're in Tucson, go. Tonight.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Oh the Pain of Fashion
On MLK day I celebrated by having lunch and a good gabfest at The Cheesecake Factory with two friends. Both of these women are amazing people with great insights and if you're Mormon in Cambridge and don't know them, well, a) you've probably been living under a rock, and b) get to know them right away. It will make your life more fun, if nothing else.
Afterwards we did a little shopping. Sometimes when I go to the mall I feel like everything is icky. The clothes hang poorly and/or are made of low quality (ie see-through) fabric and/or come in ugly colors and/or are just stupid-looking. That was the kind of shopping experience I had that day. Then I walked into Banana Republic to meet up with my friends and saw this adorable dress
Afterwards we did a little shopping. Sometimes when I go to the mall I feel like everything is icky. The clothes hang poorly and/or are made of low quality (ie see-through) fabric and/or come in ugly colors and/or are just stupid-looking. That was the kind of shopping experience I had that day. Then I walked into Banana Republic to meet up with my friends and saw this adorable dress
on the mannequin, with this shrug
on top. So I went and found both pieces in my size to try on.
The mannequin wearing the cutest outfit in the store is such a good marketing ploy. So good in fact that when I went and found my friends and joined them in their dressing room (big enough for 3! Go Banana Republic!), I discovered that Peggy had the outfit too and Mary was currently wearing it. I didn't see it on Peggy, but I will say that you know you've found a good dress when it looks cute on both the size 2 girl and the size 14 girl (except the chest was a little large (which is really a shocker since Banana usually designs for A cups and neither Mary nor I are particulary lacking in the chestular region so I don't know who they thought was going to be wearing that dress exactly) and the skirt flowy so I'm going to say I probably could have worn a 12).
However, upon checking the price tags, I was reminded why I hate Banana Republic and never shop there. $200. For one outfit. Um, no.
But it was so, SO cute.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Weather Report
I realize that everyone in the world is going to think I'm insane when I tell you that I had a little thrill this morning upon waking up to discover per The Weather Channel that it was 7 degrees outside (-4 with the wind chill). See, one of the things I like about New England is the actual changing of the seasons. After living in a desert where the seasons were hot and not-so-hot (with a couple of nights in the teens in January just to keep us on our toes) for 17 years, I am so over the whole no seasons thing. I love all of their seasons in their places and have been a little miffed by the whole no winter thing that's been going on thus far in Boston.
Don't get me wrong. If it were 7 degrees every day I would not be a happy girl. But one day in a week that promises temperatures in the 30's and 40's for the rest of the week is fine.
Plus, today I got to wear my cute puffy pink coat, which was locked up in storage last winter in DC because it never got cold enough. I love my puffy pink coat. It's sassy. And you know I'm all about the sassy.
Of course it puts the kibosh on walking home from work tonight. I did that last night and with the temperature rapidly dropping, my cheeks, which were the only exposed part of my body, almost fell off during the last half mile. They were flaming red and hot to the touch once I got inside. So I don't think I'll be walking home tonight.
Don't get me wrong. If it were 7 degrees every day I would not be a happy girl. But one day in a week that promises temperatures in the 30's and 40's for the rest of the week is fine.
Plus, today I got to wear my cute puffy pink coat, which was locked up in storage last winter in DC because it never got cold enough. I love my puffy pink coat. It's sassy. And you know I'm all about the sassy.
Of course it puts the kibosh on walking home from work tonight. I did that last night and with the temperature rapidly dropping, my cheeks, which were the only exposed part of my body, almost fell off during the last half mile. They were flaming red and hot to the touch once I got inside. So I don't think I'll be walking home tonight.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Ring A Ding Ding
I realize I'm probably opening up a can of worms here, but has anyone heard buzz, good or bad, on the LG Chocolate phone line? I am all aflutter about the Cherry Chocolate:
Oooo, pretty!
It plays music too, which is handy, especially since my iPod died a few months ago. I know, I need to take it to the Apple store, and my techy boyfriend tells me he thinks the hard drive is dead, which is apparently not that difficult to fix, but in the meantime having a phone that also plays music would make me happy. I would be like those people in the commercials moving my head from side to side to Nelly Furtado and Timbaland.
Plus, since I'm a Verizon customer already, I have money toward a new phone coming to me and if I order it online I get a discount, which makes the phone free. And I already have a Bluetooth headset that I got for super cheap at a Black Friday sale (and which doesn't work with my current antiquated phone). I just need to buy the music pack for $30 and maybe a car charger since that's always handy to have and I'm all set with my sassy new phone.
Of course what I would really like is to be rich and be able to buy the iPhone, but I'll just have to admire from afar until they get down to a reasonable price.
As a bonus question, does anyone have a good site for downloading music? Preferably legal. iTunes is expensive and puts too many restrictions on the songs - ie each song can only be copied something like 6 times. I have a great site, but because of legal machinations it will probably be shutting down within the next few months. Any suggestions?
Oooo, pretty!It plays music too, which is handy, especially since my iPod died a few months ago. I know, I need to take it to the Apple store, and my techy boyfriend tells me he thinks the hard drive is dead, which is apparently not that difficult to fix, but in the meantime having a phone that also plays music would make me happy. I would be like those people in the commercials moving my head from side to side to Nelly Furtado and Timbaland.
Plus, since I'm a Verizon customer already, I have money toward a new phone coming to me and if I order it online I get a discount, which makes the phone free. And I already have a Bluetooth headset that I got for super cheap at a Black Friday sale (and which doesn't work with my current antiquated phone). I just need to buy the music pack for $30 and maybe a car charger since that's always handy to have and I'm all set with my sassy new phone.
Of course what I would really like is to be rich and be able to buy the iPhone, but I'll just have to admire from afar until they get down to a reasonable price.
As a bonus question, does anyone have a good site for downloading music? Preferably legal. iTunes is expensive and puts too many restrictions on the songs - ie each song can only be copied something like 6 times. I have a great site, but because of legal machinations it will probably be shutting down within the next few months. Any suggestions?
Thursday, January 11, 2007
City Living
Just in case there was any doubt, the crazies, they LOVE me.
After the interminable mandatory DC Bar CLE class ended on Tuesday afternoon I had a couple of hours to kill before meeting a friend at the Kennedy Center to see Orrin Star.* I had gone for a little walk on my lunch hour and noticed a Barnes and Noble down the street.** So once we were released, I mosied over to the bookstore.
I picked up a few books*** and planted myself at a coffee shop table to decide which ones I was going to buy because you know what an English and History major with a law degree always needs is MORE books. I placed the big DC Bar binder from the class on the table and started perusing the books. About 10 minutes later a nicely-dressed man with a brown fedora sat down at the table next to me. We made eye contact and politely nodded at one another. I noticed he had a law textbook.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him take in the DC Bar binder and then he said, "Excuse me, are you an attorney?" I replied yes.
Then he started talking about how he's a law professor and he's involved with this really big case and Oprah is going to get indicted and how it's going to be this big deal. He just spewed forth with information. As he was talking, I wondered why he was telling me all of these details since, you know, aren't client matters supposed to be confidential. Then he said, "We just filed this in court today." Oh, ok, so it's public record now I suppose. But then he kept going on and on. And on. After awhile I smiled politely and said, "Well, I'll have to keep my eye out for that."
Then he asked what law school I went to and when I told him it was in Boston he started talking about how he had interviewed the man who was driving JFK the day he got shot. He got really excited and mumbled some stuff about JFK, then JFK, Jr. and said loud enough for me to make out, "You know, the same people killed them." I must have looked skeptical because he followed that up with, "Didn't you ever think of that?" with a smile on his face and a tone in his voice as if I was a fool to have never thought of that possibility. I said, "Um, no, I never really thought much about the Kennedys actually." He said, "Well, it's true."
I suppose he had imparted enough wisdom to me at that point because he smiled and said, "Well, good luck to you," which I thanked him for. He opened his [Intellectual Property] textbook and proceeded to read cases, taking copious notes on an accompanying legal pad.
So maybe he was legit, and maybe he wasn't crazy, but I'm thinking not, despite the tie and the brown fedora.
* I had no idea the Kennedy Center does free 6 PM concerts EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. How cool is that? Orrin Star put on a good show. Just 2 guys singing with mandolins, guitars and a banjo. Bluegrass mostly with some Irish and Creole music thrown in for good measure. During the concert he mentioned that he had lived in Boston for a long time right near where I live. Small world.
**Yes, I know, Laura Llew, evil corporate bookstore. But it’s the best I could do in downtown DC. I promise there is a great independent bookstore in Cambridge that I heart profusely.
*** Including You Just Don’t Understand: Men and Women in Conversation by Deborah Tannen, which after finishing 100 pages in a day and a half, I recommended to all of my friends. Fascinating.
After the interminable mandatory DC Bar CLE class ended on Tuesday afternoon I had a couple of hours to kill before meeting a friend at the Kennedy Center to see Orrin Star.* I had gone for a little walk on my lunch hour and noticed a Barnes and Noble down the street.** So once we were released, I mosied over to the bookstore.
I picked up a few books*** and planted myself at a coffee shop table to decide which ones I was going to buy because you know what an English and History major with a law degree always needs is MORE books. I placed the big DC Bar binder from the class on the table and started perusing the books. About 10 minutes later a nicely-dressed man with a brown fedora sat down at the table next to me. We made eye contact and politely nodded at one another. I noticed he had a law textbook.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him take in the DC Bar binder and then he said, "Excuse me, are you an attorney?" I replied yes.
Then he started talking about how he's a law professor and he's involved with this really big case and Oprah is going to get indicted and how it's going to be this big deal. He just spewed forth with information. As he was talking, I wondered why he was telling me all of these details since, you know, aren't client matters supposed to be confidential. Then he said, "We just filed this in court today." Oh, ok, so it's public record now I suppose. But then he kept going on and on. And on. After awhile I smiled politely and said, "Well, I'll have to keep my eye out for that."
Then he asked what law school I went to and when I told him it was in Boston he started talking about how he had interviewed the man who was driving JFK the day he got shot. He got really excited and mumbled some stuff about JFK, then JFK, Jr. and said loud enough for me to make out, "You know, the same people killed them." I must have looked skeptical because he followed that up with, "Didn't you ever think of that?" with a smile on his face and a tone in his voice as if I was a fool to have never thought of that possibility. I said, "Um, no, I never really thought much about the Kennedys actually." He said, "Well, it's true."
I suppose he had imparted enough wisdom to me at that point because he smiled and said, "Well, good luck to you," which I thanked him for. He opened his [Intellectual Property] textbook and proceeded to read cases, taking copious notes on an accompanying legal pad.
So maybe he was legit, and maybe he wasn't crazy, but I'm thinking not, despite the tie and the brown fedora.
* I had no idea the Kennedy Center does free 6 PM concerts EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. How cool is that? Orrin Star put on a good show. Just 2 guys singing with mandolins, guitars and a banjo. Bluegrass mostly with some Irish and Creole music thrown in for good measure. During the concert he mentioned that he had lived in Boston for a long time right near where I live. Small world.
**Yes, I know, Laura Llew, evil corporate bookstore. But it’s the best I could do in downtown DC. I promise there is a great independent bookstore in Cambridge that I heart profusely.
*** Including You Just Don’t Understand: Men and Women in Conversation by Deborah Tannen, which after finishing 100 pages in a day and a half, I recommended to all of my friends. Fascinating.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Swearing
I'm in DC for a couple of days and just got sworn into the DC Bar. Due to issues with addresses and forwarding and such I missed the deadline for the Mass Bar swearing in and missed out on the whole ceremony. The DC one was only a half hour or so, but it felt neat to be standing there with a bunch of other attorneys, all of us looking spiffy in our suits, swearing to uphold the laws and the Constitution and such in front of the Court of Appeals.
I'm staying with one friend and am going out with a couple others tonight. I have moved around a lot and each time I leave friends behind - or they leave me and move before I do. The upside is, I usually have a place to stay in various and sundry locales. The downside is, I'll never have all my friends over the years over to my house for a party on a random Saturday. I think they all just need to move to wherever I am.
Walking around DC in my short suit skirt and heels helped me remember how very, very popular I am with a certain segment of the male population in downtown DC. I got a lot of comments on my legs today, which I just kind of think of as these big things that are too big for the cute boots I really want to wear. I swear I think one guy wanted to take a bite out of my calves, if the tone of his voice was anything to go by.
I chatted with a couple of other people who weren't skeevy during the course of the day, one of whom held the apartment building door open for me because he saw me struggling up the hill with my suitcase. My friend who I'm staying with chalks that up to my having a friendly face and tells me it happens to her mom all the time. It always happened in Chicago when I lived there and it happens in DC, but it never happens in Boston. Well, except for the cute 20-something guy who started chatting with me one day, only to tell me after about 5 minutes of conversation that he was paranoid schizophrenic, and he thought he should tell his friend Rachel that he thought she was too. Um...k.
I'm staying with one friend and am going out with a couple others tonight. I have moved around a lot and each time I leave friends behind - or they leave me and move before I do. The upside is, I usually have a place to stay in various and sundry locales. The downside is, I'll never have all my friends over the years over to my house for a party on a random Saturday. I think they all just need to move to wherever I am.
Walking around DC in my short suit skirt and heels helped me remember how very, very popular I am with a certain segment of the male population in downtown DC. I got a lot of comments on my legs today, which I just kind of think of as these big things that are too big for the cute boots I really want to wear. I swear I think one guy wanted to take a bite out of my calves, if the tone of his voice was anything to go by.
I chatted with a couple of other people who weren't skeevy during the course of the day, one of whom held the apartment building door open for me because he saw me struggling up the hill with my suitcase. My friend who I'm staying with chalks that up to my having a friendly face and tells me it happens to her mom all the time. It always happened in Chicago when I lived there and it happens in DC, but it never happens in Boston. Well, except for the cute 20-something guy who started chatting with me one day, only to tell me after about 5 minutes of conversation that he was paranoid schizophrenic, and he thought he should tell his friend Rachel that he thought she was too. Um...k.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Regret
How do you get past regret? They say you should never look back. They say hindsight is always 20/20. But how do I move forward? How do I stop thinking "What if..." and "If only..." and "I wish I had never..."? I don't know and it's weighing me down. Heavily.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
New Year
It's that time of year. I really only have 2 resolutions:
1) Get on the ball with the job search. I have excuses aplenty, most notably the fact that the end of the year is a crappy time to look for a job. However, it's a new year. The dawn of a new day. I can't continue to be Scarlett O'Hara, all "I'll think about that tomorrow" and such. Tomorrow has come. I have started today with emailing a contact and actually reading my job board emails. That's progress.
2) Freaking lose some weight. I weighed myself this morning and almost started crying. It's ALL back. Well, not all, I guess. Not ALL the weight I lost since I moved from Chicago, but it's a chunk that I hoped to never see again registered in numbers on a scale at my feet. I knew that the New Year was going to be the start of something big again so I kind of let myself go nuts during the holiday season. Like my forefathers (and mothers) I have food issues. I love food, I love to cook, I love trying new things and savoring flavors and the fabulousness of food. It's ingrained within me and I have to control the urge to try everything and a lot of it all the time.
The plan thus far:
a) Portion control. I know what's good to eat and how much of it to eat. It does involve some prep time so I'm going to need to be more rigid and make sure I do make the time.
b) No sugar. I just have no self control and I know it. I tell myself I'll let myself just have treats sensibly, but that never works. Instead I try a little bit of everything. And then a little bit more because it was just so darn yummy. One day a month and that's it. When I did this before I found that my splurge day cravings became less and less. Instead of having a pint of Ben & Jerry's and a couple of Mounds Bars, by the 4th or 5th month I was putting half the pint back in the freezer to save for the following month's splurge day and feeling a little nauseated at the thought of any more sugar. (Speaking of pints, my new favorite thing is Cold Stone Dark Chocolate Peppermint ice cream with Heath Bar and Oreos. So in case you were wondering a good present for me would be Cold Stone gift certificates for splurge day use.)
c) Exercise. It's key. I enjoy swimming at the local pool and am thankfully working flexible jobs right now so I can head to the pool during their very sparse lap swim hours. The holidays kind of mess with that flexibility since I have to make up lots of hours in a squashed amount of time. So instead of swimming tonight, I'm going to walk home from work. I brought my sneakers and everything.
That's it for the new year. And I am determined to carry these past January.
1) Get on the ball with the job search. I have excuses aplenty, most notably the fact that the end of the year is a crappy time to look for a job. However, it's a new year. The dawn of a new day. I can't continue to be Scarlett O'Hara, all "I'll think about that tomorrow" and such. Tomorrow has come. I have started today with emailing a contact and actually reading my job board emails. That's progress.
2) Freaking lose some weight. I weighed myself this morning and almost started crying. It's ALL back. Well, not all, I guess. Not ALL the weight I lost since I moved from Chicago, but it's a chunk that I hoped to never see again registered in numbers on a scale at my feet. I knew that the New Year was going to be the start of something big again so I kind of let myself go nuts during the holiday season. Like my forefathers (and mothers) I have food issues. I love food, I love to cook, I love trying new things and savoring flavors and the fabulousness of food. It's ingrained within me and I have to control the urge to try everything and a lot of it all the time.
The plan thus far:
a) Portion control. I know what's good to eat and how much of it to eat. It does involve some prep time so I'm going to need to be more rigid and make sure I do make the time.
b) No sugar. I just have no self control and I know it. I tell myself I'll let myself just have treats sensibly, but that never works. Instead I try a little bit of everything. And then a little bit more because it was just so darn yummy. One day a month and that's it. When I did this before I found that my splurge day cravings became less and less. Instead of having a pint of Ben & Jerry's and a couple of Mounds Bars, by the 4th or 5th month I was putting half the pint back in the freezer to save for the following month's splurge day and feeling a little nauseated at the thought of any more sugar. (Speaking of pints, my new favorite thing is Cold Stone Dark Chocolate Peppermint ice cream with Heath Bar and Oreos. So in case you were wondering a good present for me would be Cold Stone gift certificates for splurge day use.)
c) Exercise. It's key. I enjoy swimming at the local pool and am thankfully working flexible jobs right now so I can head to the pool during their very sparse lap swim hours. The holidays kind of mess with that flexibility since I have to make up lots of hours in a squashed amount of time. So instead of swimming tonight, I'm going to walk home from work. I brought my sneakers and everything.
That's it for the new year. And I am determined to carry these past January.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Paper
To everyone who has emailed me or tried to post a comment about it, yes, I do know I was quoted in a paper about something I wrote on this blog. Thanks for shooting me a message about it. I appreciate you wanting to give me a heads up in case I didn't know about my new notoriety.
The reporter contacted me and we chatted on the phone. My grand summation after the conversation was that I didn't think I said anything incriminating, but then I didn't think I said anything very interesting either, so I would be surprised if she wound up quoting me. Well, she did, but she just quoted something I posted on the blog, which basically confirms what I have been telling everyone for a long time: I'm a much better writer than a talker. This is why I am not the kind of lawyer who goes to court on a regular basis.
The reason why I'm not posting your comments about it, or linking to the article, or saying the paper's name is because the reporter didn't link to the blog, but she did use my last name. I think all 48 of you who read now (wow, site meter really takes a dive over the holidays) probably know my last name, but I'm trying to be as inconspicuous as possible on a blog where I post pictures of me and my boyfriend and our friends and I've mentioned my law school, particularly to future potential employers.
On that note, I've been thinking seriously about taking this blog down because I know it is possible to find it when you do a search for me. Plus, I just don't think I've been that interesting lately. Plus, there are just some things you don't blog about - or at least I don't - and I find myself writing more regular journals entries than blog entries lately. So mulling that over...
The reporter contacted me and we chatted on the phone. My grand summation after the conversation was that I didn't think I said anything incriminating, but then I didn't think I said anything very interesting either, so I would be surprised if she wound up quoting me. Well, she did, but she just quoted something I posted on the blog, which basically confirms what I have been telling everyone for a long time: I'm a much better writer than a talker. This is why I am not the kind of lawyer who goes to court on a regular basis.
The reason why I'm not posting your comments about it, or linking to the article, or saying the paper's name is because the reporter didn't link to the blog, but she did use my last name. I think all 48 of you who read now (wow, site meter really takes a dive over the holidays) probably know my last name, but I'm trying to be as inconspicuous as possible on a blog where I post pictures of me and my boyfriend and our friends and I've mentioned my law school, particularly to future potential employers.
On that note, I've been thinking seriously about taking this blog down because I know it is possible to find it when you do a search for me. Plus, I just don't think I've been that interesting lately. Plus, there are just some things you don't blog about - or at least I don't - and I find myself writing more regular journals entries than blog entries lately. So mulling that over...
Monday, December 25, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
'Tis the Season
First things first. New haircut.
I had to get a picture fresh from the hairdresser before I washed it and tried to do it on my own. The whole round brush technique continues to elude me. Or maybe I would rather sleep for 20 more minutes than do my hair properly. It's probably that second option.
I'm enjoying Christmastime. My tree:
It should have pearl garland on it, but I didn't have enough for the whole tree so I left it off. We went to IKEA a week and a half ago and I discovered that pearl garland is apparently pretty big in Scandinavian superstores. I stocked up and I should have plenty for next year.
I've been collecting Christmas ornaments for years and have accumulated quite a collection, which I get mocked for every time I move. However, the mocking stops when people see my pretty and classy tree.
Jason and I made a gingerbread house:
I'm particularly proud of my snowy and icicled windows. I think that was a burst of creative genius on my part.
I also like the demon gingerbread army guarding the place.
Well, when they only give you small little round candies in red, you wind up with demon eyes on everything.
The kit came with two gingerbread men to decorate and eat.
I gave mine gloves and shoes.
And then I ate his head.
I had to get a picture fresh from the hairdresser before I washed it and tried to do it on my own. The whole round brush technique continues to elude me. Or maybe I would rather sleep for 20 more minutes than do my hair properly. It's probably that second option. I'm enjoying Christmastime. My tree:
It should have pearl garland on it, but I didn't have enough for the whole tree so I left it off. We went to IKEA a week and a half ago and I discovered that pearl garland is apparently pretty big in Scandinavian superstores. I stocked up and I should have plenty for next year.I've been collecting Christmas ornaments for years and have accumulated quite a collection, which I get mocked for every time I move. However, the mocking stops when people see my pretty and classy tree.
Jason and I made a gingerbread house:
I'm particularly proud of my snowy and icicled windows. I think that was a burst of creative genius on my part.
I also like the demon gingerbread army guarding the place.
Well, when they only give you small little round candies in red, you wind up with demon eyes on everything.The kit came with two gingerbread men to decorate and eat.
I gave mine gloves and shoes.
And then I ate his head.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Internet Radio is Letting Me Down
Did you know that everyone and his or her brother has done a version of "Santa Baby", "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" and "Baby, It's Cold Outside"? It's true. The internet radio churns through at least 10 versions of each of those 3 songs every couple of hours. At first I was marking that I liked some of them, like Macy Gray's "Santa Baby" or The Asylum Street Spankers' "Baby, It's Cold Outside," but I'm now officially sick of those 3 songs and am making it known to Pandora that at this point I like none of them.
Despite my previous glowing review of Pandora, I have to say that I've noticed after a few hours it starts deteriorating and playing random songs that sort of vaguely stick to the original song, but not really at all. This is despite my system of saying that I only like the songs that strictly adhere to my original selection. For instance, how does a station based on "Ding Dong! Merrily on High" by The Cambridge Singers justify playing ANYTHING by Boyz II Men? Usually if I restart the station Pandora gets its act together.
And, yes, I am at my boring job today (versus the interesting one), thus giving me time to obsess about the nuances of internet radio and the ins and outs of the Pandora Music Genome Project. Why do you ask?
Despite my previous glowing review of Pandora, I have to say that I've noticed after a few hours it starts deteriorating and playing random songs that sort of vaguely stick to the original song, but not really at all. This is despite my system of saying that I only like the songs that strictly adhere to my original selection. For instance, how does a station based on "Ding Dong! Merrily on High" by The Cambridge Singers justify playing ANYTHING by Boyz II Men? Usually if I restart the station Pandora gets its act together.
And, yes, I am at my boring job today (versus the interesting one), thus giving me time to obsess about the nuances of internet radio and the ins and outs of the Pandora Music Genome Project. Why do you ask?
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Real Work
I have recently tacked on 20 more hours to my work week, give or take. The good thing is, I actually feel like I'm doing real work. It's in health care and hopefully will lessen the effect of the giant document review black hole that is currently the most recent thing on my resume. Two of the people involved with me getting the gig may actually read this at some point, so, um, hi there!
I'm just thrilled to be doing something that feels like real legitimate work. The days go more quickly and I feel like I'm getting my legislative analysis chops back. I know, I'm a sexy beast with my passion for legislative analysis. I just hope that after this ends, I'll be able to find a real job soon because the idea of going back to just document review kind of sucks. This is good motivation to get my bum in gear with the job search.
I'm just thrilled to be doing something that feels like real legitimate work. The days go more quickly and I feel like I'm getting my legislative analysis chops back. I know, I'm a sexy beast with my passion for legislative analysis. I just hope that after this ends, I'll be able to find a real job soon because the idea of going back to just document review kind of sucks. This is good motivation to get my bum in gear with the job search.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Freezery Cold
It's cold outside. I actually like it because I get to wear my cute furry earmuffs and my sassy red scarf and my pretty wool coat. Not to mention the sweaters underneath all of that. I love winter clothes and walking through the snow, and I love feeling all toasty warm inside while the weather is blustery and cold outside.
However, at work I sit right near one of the doors leading to a hallway that goes outside and it is COLD. Every day no matter how many layers I put on, my fingers turn purple and I have goosebumps everywhere. Yesterday I wore my coat all day. I asked today if I could bring in a space heater and was told that would be fine. Hooray! There's only so much tea and sugar-free hot chocolate a girl can drink in a day.
In the course of making my hot beverages more interesting, I discovered this little concoction:
Herbal Orange Spice Vanilla Tea
1 Bigelow Orange Spice teabag (or Celestial Seasonings Manadarin Orange. Both are good.)
1/2 packet Vanilla Splenda (with the creamers in the coffee aisle)
1/4 cup milk (I use skim or 1%)
Combine with 12-16 ounces hot water and let the teabag steep according to taste. Yummy and warm. I only use half of the Splenda packet because the whole packet is really, really sweet.
However, at work I sit right near one of the doors leading to a hallway that goes outside and it is COLD. Every day no matter how many layers I put on, my fingers turn purple and I have goosebumps everywhere. Yesterday I wore my coat all day. I asked today if I could bring in a space heater and was told that would be fine. Hooray! There's only so much tea and sugar-free hot chocolate a girl can drink in a day.
In the course of making my hot beverages more interesting, I discovered this little concoction:
Herbal Orange Spice Vanilla Tea
1 Bigelow Orange Spice teabag (or Celestial Seasonings Manadarin Orange. Both are good.)
1/2 packet Vanilla Splenda (with the creamers in the coffee aisle)
1/4 cup milk (I use skim or 1%)
Combine with 12-16 ounces hot water and let the teabag steep according to taste. Yummy and warm. I only use half of the Splenda packet because the whole packet is really, really sweet.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Christmas Pudding
I want to try to make this Christmas Pudding someday, if only to have a little bit of Dickensian England in my Christmas. However, I'm thinking the alcohol content won't be ok with the whole Mormon thing. I know you light it on fire and many Mormons I know cook with alcohol with the theory that the alcohol goes away if heated enough. But this pudding requires a LOT of alcohol, over the course of weeks while it's setting. Any thoughts from the Mormons in the room?
Thursday, November 30, 2006
I'd Rather He Didn't
I'm already wishing that Mitt Romney just wouldn't run for the presidency. Not like I'd vote for him, since I'm a Democrat and I didn't like the things he did while governor of Massachusetts so I would hate to see what he'd do with the whole country. But I don't want him to run for really selfish reasons: it's going to make it very uncomfortable for the rest of us.
The bloggernacle has been all abuzz with commentaries on Andrew Sullivan and the showing of the g's on his website. Ever since there started being inklings that Mitt might run for president, I could see this coming. Not only would we see the things that we consider sacred paraded out in front of the world, but old and often uncomfortable histories would be dragged out into the light and the scrutiny of the media and the blogworld.
Today at work there was a conversation going on behind me that I elected not to be involved in, but that was spoken loudly enough for me to overhear. Some people here know that I'm Mormon, but I doubt those people do, or else they would have spoken more quietly. They were all people who I have chatted with before and have been friendly with, they just don't happen to know I'm Mormon.
The topic of the conversation: Mormons are so crazy! Basically, one guy started talking about everything he had ever heard about the crazy Mormon theology (true and untrue), the shady history of Joseph Smith, and current tales of what we can and can't do. Of note:
- We don't drink coffee, but we can drink Coke because the church owns part of Coke
- Joseph Smith was arrested for swindling people prior to The First Vision
- The Virgin Mary was Eve
One girl regaled the group with stories of playing tennis on courts shared with a couple of Mormon girls and how they were 17 and already married. Plus, they used these crazy words rather than swearing (probably stuff like "oh my heck" and "fetch," I'm betting). Another talked about this guy he knew at another job who had 10 kids. Their tones and their words emphasized how odd they believe Mormons are in general, and the stories just served to emphasize that supposition.
I don't know how the conversation got started, but I would bet Mitt Romney was a jumping-off point.
As someone who has a hard enough time dealing with some of the more strange and contradictory elements of our church history, I'm really not up to defending the religion to all who read the latest article on "Weird Moments in Mormon Theology" and come to me, their local neighborhood Mormon, to confirm or deny the latest tale.
So for the sake of us all, please, stop the campaign now, Mitt.
Plus, you know, I don't really want you to be my president anyway.
The bloggernacle has been all abuzz with commentaries on Andrew Sullivan and the showing of the g's on his website. Ever since there started being inklings that Mitt might run for president, I could see this coming. Not only would we see the things that we consider sacred paraded out in front of the world, but old and often uncomfortable histories would be dragged out into the light and the scrutiny of the media and the blogworld.
Today at work there was a conversation going on behind me that I elected not to be involved in, but that was spoken loudly enough for me to overhear. Some people here know that I'm Mormon, but I doubt those people do, or else they would have spoken more quietly. They were all people who I have chatted with before and have been friendly with, they just don't happen to know I'm Mormon.
The topic of the conversation: Mormons are so crazy! Basically, one guy started talking about everything he had ever heard about the crazy Mormon theology (true and untrue), the shady history of Joseph Smith, and current tales of what we can and can't do. Of note:
- We don't drink coffee, but we can drink Coke because the church owns part of Coke
- Joseph Smith was arrested for swindling people prior to The First Vision
- The Virgin Mary was Eve
One girl regaled the group with stories of playing tennis on courts shared with a couple of Mormon girls and how they were 17 and already married. Plus, they used these crazy words rather than swearing (probably stuff like "oh my heck" and "fetch," I'm betting). Another talked about this guy he knew at another job who had 10 kids. Their tones and their words emphasized how odd they believe Mormons are in general, and the stories just served to emphasize that supposition.
I don't know how the conversation got started, but I would bet Mitt Romney was a jumping-off point.
As someone who has a hard enough time dealing with some of the more strange and contradictory elements of our church history, I'm really not up to defending the religion to all who read the latest article on "Weird Moments in Mormon Theology" and come to me, their local neighborhood Mormon, to confirm or deny the latest tale.
So for the sake of us all, please, stop the campaign now, Mitt.
Plus, you know, I don't really want you to be my president anyway.
I Am A Swimmer
I went swimming last night. I haven't swum laps in over a year and I can't even express how fantastic I felt afterward. There is just something about water that does it for me. From the second I ducked under the water and pushed off the wall, I felt like I was completely in my comfort zone. I wound up swimming 50 laps.
I also had a little ego boost to go along with the endorphins. Except for a couple of totally in shape swimmers, I was lapping everyone else in the pool. Just think what I could do if I was actually in shape. I was totally bragging to Jason last night, but I let myself do it because swimming is the one thing I do really well. I know I have said this many times before, but I would love to compete again. The pool I go to has a Masters Swimming group that I want to join once I lose a little weight and get my endurance up more.
I was thinking about it as I walked to work this morning and for once losing weight doesn't feel like my ultimate goal. Losing weight is now a means to an end: I need to lose weight in order to swim at my desired level. I came home last night and didn't really want to eat the crap that I've been craving almost every day for, oh, at least a year. I just had some turkey soup and a few crackers for dinner.
There are a couple of things I need to keep this up: new goggles and good warm-up pants. My goggles are kind of old and the lenses aren't exactly clear, per se. As for the pants, I realized I would need some good layered ones as I walked home last night in what amounted to pretty mild temperatures, particularly for late November, and my wet bum got progressively colder and colder until I didn't want the fabric to touch my skin anymore because it felt like ice. Yeah, my normal knit work out pants are not going to cut it once it gets really cold.
I also had a little ego boost to go along with the endorphins. Except for a couple of totally in shape swimmers, I was lapping everyone else in the pool. Just think what I could do if I was actually in shape. I was totally bragging to Jason last night, but I let myself do it because swimming is the one thing I do really well. I know I have said this many times before, but I would love to compete again. The pool I go to has a Masters Swimming group that I want to join once I lose a little weight and get my endurance up more.
I was thinking about it as I walked to work this morning and for once losing weight doesn't feel like my ultimate goal. Losing weight is now a means to an end: I need to lose weight in order to swim at my desired level. I came home last night and didn't really want to eat the crap that I've been craving almost every day for, oh, at least a year. I just had some turkey soup and a few crackers for dinner.
There are a couple of things I need to keep this up: new goggles and good warm-up pants. My goggles are kind of old and the lenses aren't exactly clear, per se. As for the pants, I realized I would need some good layered ones as I walked home last night in what amounted to pretty mild temperatures, particularly for late November, and my wet bum got progressively colder and colder until I didn't want the fabric to touch my skin anymore because it felt like ice. Yeah, my normal knit work out pants are not going to cut it once it gets really cold.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
The Documents. They Just Keep Coming.
There is a fine art to not losing your mind while doing document review. I have a couple of tactics for getting through my days. The first thing I do is manipulate my document database. First I do the documents in numerical order, which is the order they were loaded into the database. I do about 100 this way, and then I organize them by title, thus showing all the duplicates of the ones I've already done and allowing me to copy/paste and rapidly code away.
I know, thrill a minute.
What really gets me through my days is 1) emails (keep 'em coming!), and 2) internet radio. During the first phase of my day when I have to pay attention to what I'm reading because they want some actual analysis of the documents, I listen to music, because silence just makes me sleepy and depressed. My music provider of choice is Pandora.
I think Pandora wins the award for the internet radio station that takes itself the most seriously. They have worked up this system they call The Music Genome Project where you type in an artist or the title of a song that you like and they proceed to build you a station based on that particular preference. And they have really specific reasons for their selections. For example, I am currently listening to my Pixies radio station. They just played a song by The Raveonettes that they picked "because it features a subtle use of vocal harmony, extensive vamping, major key tonality and many other similarities [to The Pixies]." You can create multiple stations and so far I have the Pixies station, the Nickel Creek station, the Enya station, the Imogen Heap station, and the "It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas" (Frank Sinatra version) station.
While I am doing duplicates and can actually use my brain for something else, I like to listen to NPR podcasts and the archives of This American Life. On NPR I've been bouncing back and forth between the archived shows of Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me and the Holiday stories from this and past years.
And that's how I spend 8-10 hours of my days. I need a real job.
I know, thrill a minute.
What really gets me through my days is 1) emails (keep 'em coming!), and 2) internet radio. During the first phase of my day when I have to pay attention to what I'm reading because they want some actual analysis of the documents, I listen to music, because silence just makes me sleepy and depressed. My music provider of choice is Pandora.
I think Pandora wins the award for the internet radio station that takes itself the most seriously. They have worked up this system they call The Music Genome Project where you type in an artist or the title of a song that you like and they proceed to build you a station based on that particular preference. And they have really specific reasons for their selections. For example, I am currently listening to my Pixies radio station. They just played a song by The Raveonettes that they picked "because it features a subtle use of vocal harmony, extensive vamping, major key tonality and many other similarities [to The Pixies]." You can create multiple stations and so far I have the Pixies station, the Nickel Creek station, the Enya station, the Imogen Heap station, and the "It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas" (Frank Sinatra version) station.
While I am doing duplicates and can actually use my brain for something else, I like to listen to NPR podcasts and the archives of This American Life. On NPR I've been bouncing back and forth between the archived shows of Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me and the Holiday stories from this and past years.
And that's how I spend 8-10 hours of my days. I need a real job.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Pumpkin Pecan Pie & Sweet Potatoes
I made this pie last night for a pie party I'm going to. A couple of things to keep in mind:- The pumpkin part of the recipe will expand more than your average pecan pie so when they say you need a deep pie crust, they mean it. Me and my now-ruined cookie sheet learned this the hard way. It's really hard to get caramelized Caro syrup off a cookie sheet, but it does give your home a nice creme brulee scent.
- Make sure your surface is level. The cookie sheet I placed the pie on was kind of warped and that aided in the whole corn syrup all over the cookie sheet affair.
Despite these slight mishaps, the pie still turned out well and had a sufficient amount of corn syrup/butter/egg goodness. Seriously, pecan pie is just the result of someone asking, "How can I speed up that heart attack?"
Pumpkin Pecan Pie
3 eggs
1 cup canned solid pack pumpkin
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground ginger
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
1 frozen deep 9 inch pie crust, thawed
2/3 cup dark corn syrup
2 Tbs. unsalted butter, melted
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup pecans or walnuts, coarsely chopped
Preheat oven to 350° F. Combine 1 egg, pumpkin, 1/3 cup sugar and spices in a bowl and mix thoroughly. Spread evenly in bottom of pie crust. Lightly beat remaining eggs in another bowl. Add in corn syrup, remaining 2/3 cup sugar, butter and vanilla and mix until blended. Stir in pecans and pour over pumpkin mixture. Bake 50-60 minutes or until filling is set around edge. Cool completely on a wire rack.
Sweet Potatoes:
2 large cans sweet potatoes
1/4 C. butter
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
1/2 tsp. grated orange peel
1/2 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 C. apple cider or 1 tsp. apple juice concentrate
1/4 C. water
Blend everything together and spread into glass baking pan.
Topping:
1/3 C. flour
1/3 C. turbinado sugar
1/2 C. chopped pecans
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 C. butter
Mix topping ingredients together and sprinkle evenly over sweet potatoes. Bake at 350 for 20-30 minutes. Sweet potatoes should be bubbling around the edges when you take it out of the oven.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Thanksgiving Advice
So apparently November has decided to actually, you know, be November. I walked out into the frosty morning air this morning and noticed how pretty much all the trees are completely barren now. Winter is coming. It's in the air.
For the first time this year I woke up and stayed in bed for 10 extra minutes solely because when I poked my face out from beneath the covers, my nose registered my room as really cold. My bedroom is the coldest room in the house because it is located over the downstairs neighbor's balcony. I don't really mind since I prefer it to be a little chilly when I sleep in the winter so I have an excuse to wear flannel PJ's and burrow down under flannel sheets and my down comforter. And maybe another blanket for good measure. It just makes it awfully hard to get out of bed early in the morning.
We're having Thanksgiving at Jason's with a few friends. It should be nice and low-key, unless the 80's trivia game we're planning to play gets completely out of hand. I'm making the turkey, stuffing, gravy and sweet potatoes. I called my mom a couple of days ago and got her excellent stuffing recipe and am making her sweet potatoes as well. The sweet potatoes have taken on a life of their own, at least among certain people who have tasted them. See, one of Jason's good friends wound up marrying a woman who was at the same Thanksgiving dinner as me the first year I was in Boston. I made the sweet potatoes for that dinner. For the next couple of years every time I saw her she raved about the sweet potatoes. Then when she found out Jason was dating me apparently she told him all about the sweet potatoes. Yes, they're that good.
Currently I have a 14.5 pound turkey thawing in my fridge. I've been looking up good ways to prep the turkey for the big day since I want it to be savory and wonderful. I bought a turkey bag to bake the turkey in, but don't know for sure if I'll use it. So I'm asking for tips. How do you prepare and cook your Thanksgiving turkey?
For the first time this year I woke up and stayed in bed for 10 extra minutes solely because when I poked my face out from beneath the covers, my nose registered my room as really cold. My bedroom is the coldest room in the house because it is located over the downstairs neighbor's balcony. I don't really mind since I prefer it to be a little chilly when I sleep in the winter so I have an excuse to wear flannel PJ's and burrow down under flannel sheets and my down comforter. And maybe another blanket for good measure. It just makes it awfully hard to get out of bed early in the morning.
We're having Thanksgiving at Jason's with a few friends. It should be nice and low-key, unless the 80's trivia game we're planning to play gets completely out of hand. I'm making the turkey, stuffing, gravy and sweet potatoes. I called my mom a couple of days ago and got her excellent stuffing recipe and am making her sweet potatoes as well. The sweet potatoes have taken on a life of their own, at least among certain people who have tasted them. See, one of Jason's good friends wound up marrying a woman who was at the same Thanksgiving dinner as me the first year I was in Boston. I made the sweet potatoes for that dinner. For the next couple of years every time I saw her she raved about the sweet potatoes. Then when she found out Jason was dating me apparently she told him all about the sweet potatoes. Yes, they're that good.
Currently I have a 14.5 pound turkey thawing in my fridge. I've been looking up good ways to prep the turkey for the big day since I want it to be savory and wonderful. I bought a turkey bag to bake the turkey in, but don't know for sure if I'll use it. So I'm asking for tips. How do you prepare and cook your Thanksgiving turkey?
Friday, November 17, 2006
Fire! Fire!
I don't know if you've noticed, but local newscasts always have a pet catastrophe. I think in Chicago it was shootings on the South Side. In DC it was traffic - Terror on the Beltway or something like that. When I lived in Boston before I noticed that house fires were the pet stories of the local news. Every day something like 5 houses just went up in flames and the local cameras were always right there, on the spot. Maybe it's because Boston has so many old, old houses with old, old wiring. But Chicago had old houses too. I just think it's what the Boston focus groups deemed interesting.
Even though every day multiple homes burst into flames apparently right in my backyard, I am amazed that house fires actually happen. I mean, I guess it makes sense if a water heater or space heater explodes and catches the carpet or some insulation. But if I were to, say, knock over a candle (of which I have many so that is a possibility), I would be shocked if it caught any piece of wood in the vicinity on fire.
I say this because, as I've mentioned before, Jason has a fireplace in his apartment in Providence. It rocks. I highly recommend fireplaces for all. However, there is a definite art to starting a fire. As we have discovered you can't just throw some flames at some wood and expect the wood to light and burn all cozy-like. Wood is very picky about lighting and might taunt you with a quick burst of flame, only to peter out into ash a moment later. Then it will laugh at you.
Luckily for Jason, I am a fire-starting savant. This is a previously unknown talent and I'm trying of some way to can market it. I can analyze a pile of smoldering wood, move some bits around, stick some kindling underneath, throw on some pinecones for extra explosive good measure and voila! We have fire! I have done this a couple of times now - the first time after Jason had spent the entire evening poking and rearranging and finally I got my chance when he drove another guest home. He came back and I pulled him excitedly into the room to show him my handiwork. I just hope that I'm not too much of a threat to his manhood.
Even though every day multiple homes burst into flames apparently right in my backyard, I am amazed that house fires actually happen. I mean, I guess it makes sense if a water heater or space heater explodes and catches the carpet or some insulation. But if I were to, say, knock over a candle (of which I have many so that is a possibility), I would be shocked if it caught any piece of wood in the vicinity on fire.
I say this because, as I've mentioned before, Jason has a fireplace in his apartment in Providence. It rocks. I highly recommend fireplaces for all. However, there is a definite art to starting a fire. As we have discovered you can't just throw some flames at some wood and expect the wood to light and burn all cozy-like. Wood is very picky about lighting and might taunt you with a quick burst of flame, only to peter out into ash a moment later. Then it will laugh at you.
Luckily for Jason, I am a fire-starting savant. This is a previously unknown talent and I'm trying of some way to can market it. I can analyze a pile of smoldering wood, move some bits around, stick some kindling underneath, throw on some pinecones for extra explosive good measure and voila! We have fire! I have done this a couple of times now - the first time after Jason had spent the entire evening poking and rearranging and finally I got my chance when he drove another guest home. He came back and I pulled him excitedly into the room to show him my handiwork. I just hope that I'm not too much of a threat to his manhood.
Dreamy
I'm having the Spanish final dream again. It pops up every few months or so. I feel like I should start keeping track and try to figure out what happens in my life that triggers the dream. All I have to say is, I am so relieved today that I'm not about to fail Spanish.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Just Feeling Kind of Tired of It All
So this is going to be a little bit of a rant. A railing against my metabolism. I am tired of being fat.
I have good taste, but I don’t fit into the clothes. It would be a dream of mine to walk into any retail store and be able to pluck any cute thing off the rack, try it on, and then be able to really choose what I want to buy versus buying what actually fits or what doesn’t make my bum look TOO huge.
It’s virtually impossible for me to buy a suit. As an attorney, that’s a little bit of a problem. I own one suit right now and thankfully am working in a place where casual is A-OK. I like suits, though. I think they’re cute and I wish I owned several. I have been trying for about 6 months to find a suit that fits me right, trying on nearly everything that looks slightly feasible in a myriad of stores. First of all, my hips/thighs/bum are significantly larger than my waist and pencil skirts are very difficult for me to fit into. Second, I am two different sizes on the top and the bottom, so that limits me to separates. Third, I’m in this weird limbo at my weight where the Misses jackets fit great, while the skirts do not, while the Womens skirts fit OK and I’m swimming in the jackets. Heaven forbid the Womens clothes are just bigger versions of the Misses stuff so I could buy the Misses jacket and the Womens skirt. They could never make it that easy.
I started a weight loss blog that I haven’t updated in awhile out of frustration and laziness both. It’s hard to feel consistently fired up, although maybe I’ll get back to it eventually.
I’m mad at my metabolism because I have been hovering around this 190-200 mark for a couple of years now. During the summer of 2005 after being very strict with my food intake and working out every day AND stressing about the Bar exam, I managed to get down to 185.
I’m mad at my metabolism because I don’t consider myself to be a huge eater. Maybe I’m deluding myself, but I don’t think I am (although if I am deluding myself, how would I know really...?) I have this strange fascination with shows about fat people losing weight and the methods they use, whether it be normal diet and exercise or some sort of surgical intervention. I listen to the interviews and realize I don’t eat like these people. I don’t have 3 Big Macs for a meal, I don’t eat huge piles of pasta at an Italian restaurant, I don’t Super Size it all, I don’t hide food around my house, I don’t eat a dozen donuts at a sitting. I have never eaten like that, except for maybe a few years ago when I was neck-deep in depression and ballooned up to 235. I haven’t been there in a long time, though. The idea of eating those huge amounts of greasy, fatty, sugary foods makes me feel a little ill.
If I allow myself to have dessert now and then or to have birthday cake to celebrate with friends or to have a couple of pieces of Halloween candy that someone brings into work (and I do mean a couple of pieces only), I will gain weight.
I know exactly what I need to do to lose weight. I need to carefully monitor every single thing I put in my mouth and the caloric content of each morsel. I need to write it all down in the ediets Nutrition tracker, which is my food counter of choice at the moment. I then need to exercise every day and factor in the calories burned so that I have a significant calorie deficit every day to lose 1-2 pounds a week, which is the average amount lost when you’re losing weight the healthy way. I cannot indulge ever because it appears on the scale and on my thighs. Even if I were to ever lose all the weight I want to, I will never really be able to indulge without it showing up. It's all lots of fun.
I need to make sure that I am exercising enough. It appears that “not enough” at this point equals walking a mile to and from work and 40-45 minutes on the elliptical 4-5 times a week, followed by a smattering of weight exercises. The scale continues to inch up and my clothes continue to feel tight.
I emailed Jason this morning about my frustration with this weight thing. I concluded that my caveman ancestors were really top notch at the whole fat storage thing. My people survived many famines.
I have good taste, but I don’t fit into the clothes. It would be a dream of mine to walk into any retail store and be able to pluck any cute thing off the rack, try it on, and then be able to really choose what I want to buy versus buying what actually fits or what doesn’t make my bum look TOO huge.
It’s virtually impossible for me to buy a suit. As an attorney, that’s a little bit of a problem. I own one suit right now and thankfully am working in a place where casual is A-OK. I like suits, though. I think they’re cute and I wish I owned several. I have been trying for about 6 months to find a suit that fits me right, trying on nearly everything that looks slightly feasible in a myriad of stores. First of all, my hips/thighs/bum are significantly larger than my waist and pencil skirts are very difficult for me to fit into. Second, I am two different sizes on the top and the bottom, so that limits me to separates. Third, I’m in this weird limbo at my weight where the Misses jackets fit great, while the skirts do not, while the Womens skirts fit OK and I’m swimming in the jackets. Heaven forbid the Womens clothes are just bigger versions of the Misses stuff so I could buy the Misses jacket and the Womens skirt. They could never make it that easy.
I started a weight loss blog that I haven’t updated in awhile out of frustration and laziness both. It’s hard to feel consistently fired up, although maybe I’ll get back to it eventually.
I’m mad at my metabolism because I have been hovering around this 190-200 mark for a couple of years now. During the summer of 2005 after being very strict with my food intake and working out every day AND stressing about the Bar exam, I managed to get down to 185.
I’m mad at my metabolism because I don’t consider myself to be a huge eater. Maybe I’m deluding myself, but I don’t think I am (although if I am deluding myself, how would I know really...?) I have this strange fascination with shows about fat people losing weight and the methods they use, whether it be normal diet and exercise or some sort of surgical intervention. I listen to the interviews and realize I don’t eat like these people. I don’t have 3 Big Macs for a meal, I don’t eat huge piles of pasta at an Italian restaurant, I don’t Super Size it all, I don’t hide food around my house, I don’t eat a dozen donuts at a sitting. I have never eaten like that, except for maybe a few years ago when I was neck-deep in depression and ballooned up to 235. I haven’t been there in a long time, though. The idea of eating those huge amounts of greasy, fatty, sugary foods makes me feel a little ill.
If I allow myself to have dessert now and then or to have birthday cake to celebrate with friends or to have a couple of pieces of Halloween candy that someone brings into work (and I do mean a couple of pieces only), I will gain weight.
I know exactly what I need to do to lose weight. I need to carefully monitor every single thing I put in my mouth and the caloric content of each morsel. I need to write it all down in the ediets Nutrition tracker, which is my food counter of choice at the moment. I then need to exercise every day and factor in the calories burned so that I have a significant calorie deficit every day to lose 1-2 pounds a week, which is the average amount lost when you’re losing weight the healthy way. I cannot indulge ever because it appears on the scale and on my thighs. Even if I were to ever lose all the weight I want to, I will never really be able to indulge without it showing up. It's all lots of fun.
I need to make sure that I am exercising enough. It appears that “not enough” at this point equals walking a mile to and from work and 40-45 minutes on the elliptical 4-5 times a week, followed by a smattering of weight exercises. The scale continues to inch up and my clothes continue to feel tight.
I emailed Jason this morning about my frustration with this weight thing. I concluded that my caveman ancestors were really top notch at the whole fat storage thing. My people survived many famines.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Good News, Bad News
No, let’s reverse that. Bad news first. Save the best for last is my motto.
Bad News:
- I didn’t get the job. I emailed my HR contact and asked what the deciding factors were. She said they wound up hiring someone with a lot of experience working as outside counsel to health care entities. That’s fair. It helps to know it wasn’t really because I’m a freakshow and they couldn’t stomach the idea of working 40 hours a week with the likes of me. But it’s the same Catch 22 I’m faced with repeatedly: I have no real experience, so I don’t get hired because they want someone with experience, meaning I never get any experience.
Good News:
- If I doubted it before, it turns out moving to Boston was the right decision. Remember how I left that project in DC where I was making insane amounts of money believing that the project had probably at least 5 more months left on it and I was debating if moving to Boston and not taking advantage of the money was really the smartest thing to do? Well, I heard from a friend from that project today that they closed down shop with no warning on Monday and the client moved all the business to co-counsel’s city. Wow. I would have been so incredibly ticked if I had stayed, let me tell you.
- I’m going to dust off my mad networking skillz and get back in the game tonight. I have been referred several times to a non-profit in the area that might allow me to get some more health care experience. I think one of my next steps will be contacting the person whose name I’ve been given and see if they can use any volunteer help. My job now has incredibly flexible hours so if the opportunity to volunteer is there I could actually take advantage of it.
- I have a gym racket going with a friend from work. We are putting off actually joining a gym for as long as possible and instead are working our way through two-week gym trial memberships. The one we’re on right now is 2 weeks for $20 (how they then justify $70 a month for membership plus a $149 initiation fee PLUS a $49 processing fee is beyond me) and after that we have two more gyms that have free 2 week trials. We figure we’ll do 2 weeks now, then indulge for Thanksgiving, then 2 weeks in December, allowing us to enjoy Christmas, and then 2 weeks after Christmas. Nice, huh? So if any of you know of any free/cheapo trials for gyms in the Downtown Crossing/Government Center/South Station areas, send them our way.
- I had some rockin’ French onion soup for lunch and just discovered that D’Anjou pears may just be my favorite ever.
As you can see, the good outweighs the bad. I’m trying to stay positive and hope that something else is just around the corner.
Bad News:
- I didn’t get the job. I emailed my HR contact and asked what the deciding factors were. She said they wound up hiring someone with a lot of experience working as outside counsel to health care entities. That’s fair. It helps to know it wasn’t really because I’m a freakshow and they couldn’t stomach the idea of working 40 hours a week with the likes of me. But it’s the same Catch 22 I’m faced with repeatedly: I have no real experience, so I don’t get hired because they want someone with experience, meaning I never get any experience.
Good News:
- If I doubted it before, it turns out moving to Boston was the right decision. Remember how I left that project in DC where I was making insane amounts of money believing that the project had probably at least 5 more months left on it and I was debating if moving to Boston and not taking advantage of the money was really the smartest thing to do? Well, I heard from a friend from that project today that they closed down shop with no warning on Monday and the client moved all the business to co-counsel’s city. Wow. I would have been so incredibly ticked if I had stayed, let me tell you.
- I’m going to dust off my mad networking skillz and get back in the game tonight. I have been referred several times to a non-profit in the area that might allow me to get some more health care experience. I think one of my next steps will be contacting the person whose name I’ve been given and see if they can use any volunteer help. My job now has incredibly flexible hours so if the opportunity to volunteer is there I could actually take advantage of it.
- I have a gym racket going with a friend from work. We are putting off actually joining a gym for as long as possible and instead are working our way through two-week gym trial memberships. The one we’re on right now is 2 weeks for $20 (how they then justify $70 a month for membership plus a $149 initiation fee PLUS a $49 processing fee is beyond me) and after that we have two more gyms that have free 2 week trials. We figure we’ll do 2 weeks now, then indulge for Thanksgiving, then 2 weeks in December, allowing us to enjoy Christmas, and then 2 weeks after Christmas. Nice, huh? So if any of you know of any free/cheapo trials for gyms in the Downtown Crossing/Government Center/South Station areas, send them our way.
- I had some rockin’ French onion soup for lunch and just discovered that D’Anjou pears may just be my favorite ever.
As you can see, the good outweighs the bad. I’m trying to stay positive and hope that something else is just around the corner.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Happy To Be Back
At church on Sunday a couple of people asked me how it felt to be back in Boston. I have had the chance to reflect on this a lot over the last few weeks since it seems to be a common question. I am kind of surprised that my standard answer is, it’s really great to be back.
By the end of Summer 2005 I was so ready to be gone from Boston and to be in DC. After a little more than a year in DC I'm glad I'm back in Boston. Not that I didn’t like DC, but I never really got settled in there. The whole time I was there I felt a tug to come back here so I never immersed myself in all that DC had to offer. As I was getting ready to leave I felt sad thinking about leaving the monuments, the museums, the parks, and all of the beauty surrounding me in Virginia. I realized that I hadn’t really experienced everything about the city; I hadn’t even whole-heartedly looked for the health care policy job that inspired me to move down there. I think I would possibly like to go back to DC again someday.
However, since I moved to Boston I haven’t felt any tugs back to DC. I miss the few good friends I made there, but they’re not really all that far away. We just can’t hang out on some random night, but, frankly, with my work schedule in DC, I always had to plan hanging out in advance anyway.
I know that I moved back to Boston at the best possible time. October in New England is lovely and sepia-tinted. Growing up in Arizona, I used to wish longingly for real seasons, real trees and flowers, real snow, real Autumn leaves. The Sonoran Desert, where Tucson is located, is beautiful in its own way, but it is not a way that speaks to my soul like the smell of fresh fertile earth and woodsiness after a rain.
My parents and I used to have a Christmas in July movie marathon in our highly air-conditioned family room when we just couldn’t stand the idea that it was 115 degrees outside anymore. We tried to make at least one excursion each summer up to Summerhaven on Mount Lemmon for chili at the ski lodge and temperatures that were 30 degrees cooler.
My first year of college I went to school in Vermont and while I didn’t end up staying at the school because the school and I did not mesh, I loved Vermont. I took rolls and rolls of pictures, documenting every little seasonal change. I found the smallest things absolutely remarkable. Did you know that when a leaf falls on the sidewalk and then it rains, the leaf leaves an imprint on the sidewalk? I had no idea until I was walking to one of my classes and saw a whole row of leaf prints on the sidewalk in front of me. In the Spring I drove everyone crazy asking what every single tree and flower was called. They looked at me as if I was insane, not realizing that while I can identify a cholla or a saguaro or a prickly pear with no problem, tulips and daffodils were strange and exotic to me. Lilacs were my greatest discovery that Spring.
So I suppose part of my contentment here is that I moved back at my favorite time of year and got to revel in the Autumn.
Then there are the people. One of my biggest complaints with Boston before I moved was the surly attitude of many of its inhabitants and this sort of air of entitlement that seemed to flow throughout the city. I’m just not noticing it so much this time around. I think there are a couple of reasons for this. For one, I’m not driving much anymore. I take the T to work and other than the 20 minutes or so it takes me to get out of Cambridge, the drive down to Providence is a breeze. I used to drive a lot to get to school and while a Boston pedestrian may not be necessarily surly, a Boston driver ALWAYS is. Particularly on this fun rotary that was on the way to my law school, which we referred to as The Circle of Death.
Two, I don’t know if I’ve proven myself by virtue of the fact that I moved away from Boston and then moved back, but I find myself running into a lot of native Bostonians who are jovial and happy to chat about most anything. With their thick accents they tell me where to go to eat and who will give me the best deals on various things. New Englanders have this reputation of being aloof until they really get to know you. Maybe they’ve decided I’m ok since I voluntarily moved back to Boston.
Then of course there’s Jason. It’s fun to be able to be a semi-normal couple – I say “semi” since we are still living an hour drive away from each other. But that’s much easier than an hour flight. I’m enjoying having an activity partner and our weekends have been jam-packed. We’re having a lot of fun.
Even though I still haven’t heard on the job and I don’t know where my career is going and I’m doing the same type of boring work I was in DC, I’m happy to be here. I love stepping out into the crisp air and feeling the bustle of the city around me. It’s good to be here.
By the end of Summer 2005 I was so ready to be gone from Boston and to be in DC. After a little more than a year in DC I'm glad I'm back in Boston. Not that I didn’t like DC, but I never really got settled in there. The whole time I was there I felt a tug to come back here so I never immersed myself in all that DC had to offer. As I was getting ready to leave I felt sad thinking about leaving the monuments, the museums, the parks, and all of the beauty surrounding me in Virginia. I realized that I hadn’t really experienced everything about the city; I hadn’t even whole-heartedly looked for the health care policy job that inspired me to move down there. I think I would possibly like to go back to DC again someday.
However, since I moved to Boston I haven’t felt any tugs back to DC. I miss the few good friends I made there, but they’re not really all that far away. We just can’t hang out on some random night, but, frankly, with my work schedule in DC, I always had to plan hanging out in advance anyway.
I know that I moved back to Boston at the best possible time. October in New England is lovely and sepia-tinted. Growing up in Arizona, I used to wish longingly for real seasons, real trees and flowers, real snow, real Autumn leaves. The Sonoran Desert, where Tucson is located, is beautiful in its own way, but it is not a way that speaks to my soul like the smell of fresh fertile earth and woodsiness after a rain.
My parents and I used to have a Christmas in July movie marathon in our highly air-conditioned family room when we just couldn’t stand the idea that it was 115 degrees outside anymore. We tried to make at least one excursion each summer up to Summerhaven on Mount Lemmon for chili at the ski lodge and temperatures that were 30 degrees cooler.
My first year of college I went to school in Vermont and while I didn’t end up staying at the school because the school and I did not mesh, I loved Vermont. I took rolls and rolls of pictures, documenting every little seasonal change. I found the smallest things absolutely remarkable. Did you know that when a leaf falls on the sidewalk and then it rains, the leaf leaves an imprint on the sidewalk? I had no idea until I was walking to one of my classes and saw a whole row of leaf prints on the sidewalk in front of me. In the Spring I drove everyone crazy asking what every single tree and flower was called. They looked at me as if I was insane, not realizing that while I can identify a cholla or a saguaro or a prickly pear with no problem, tulips and daffodils were strange and exotic to me. Lilacs were my greatest discovery that Spring.
So I suppose part of my contentment here is that I moved back at my favorite time of year and got to revel in the Autumn.
Then there are the people. One of my biggest complaints with Boston before I moved was the surly attitude of many of its inhabitants and this sort of air of entitlement that seemed to flow throughout the city. I’m just not noticing it so much this time around. I think there are a couple of reasons for this. For one, I’m not driving much anymore. I take the T to work and other than the 20 minutes or so it takes me to get out of Cambridge, the drive down to Providence is a breeze. I used to drive a lot to get to school and while a Boston pedestrian may not be necessarily surly, a Boston driver ALWAYS is. Particularly on this fun rotary that was on the way to my law school, which we referred to as The Circle of Death.
Two, I don’t know if I’ve proven myself by virtue of the fact that I moved away from Boston and then moved back, but I find myself running into a lot of native Bostonians who are jovial and happy to chat about most anything. With their thick accents they tell me where to go to eat and who will give me the best deals on various things. New Englanders have this reputation of being aloof until they really get to know you. Maybe they’ve decided I’m ok since I voluntarily moved back to Boston.
Then of course there’s Jason. It’s fun to be able to be a semi-normal couple – I say “semi” since we are still living an hour drive away from each other. But that’s much easier than an hour flight. I’m enjoying having an activity partner and our weekends have been jam-packed. We’re having a lot of fun.
Even though I still haven’t heard on the job and I don’t know where my career is going and I’m doing the same type of boring work I was in DC, I’m happy to be here. I love stepping out into the crisp air and feeling the bustle of the city around me. It’s good to be here.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Consumer Alert: Ford Focus Ignition
To: Ford Management
From: A Disgruntled Focus Owner
My family has been loyal Ford owners for some time, despite all those clever little sayings like "Found On the Road Dead." My early years were spent riding around in a big red LTD, which was then traded in for a Taurus wagon. The next year a teensy little Festiva was added to our family and I drove it all through high school and college and finally sold it when I graduated. My mom traded in the Taurus for an Escort and when my parents had to buy a car after my dad got a job in the Chicago suburbs they headed right to the Ford dealership.
Several years ago I noticed the Focus on the road and thought it was cute. Overall it seemed to get ok ratings and when it came time for me to buy a car I found I could get a relatively lightly used Focus for a lot less than a Corolla or Jetta. I knew those were better made cars, of course, but I could afford the Focus, the Focus was cute, and my family had always gone with the Fords.
Yesterday morning I got in my car, stuck the key in the ignition, and turned. Only the key didn't turn. It was stuck fast. I jiggled the steering wheel, took the key out and put it in again, tapped the key, turned the key over, rapped on the steering column a bit. Nothing. The key just would not turn in the ignition. So after putting a lot of money into my car a couple of months ago, I now have to shell out $200-$300 more to fix this ignition thing.
And you know, I could handle it if it was just one of those things that sometimes goes wrong with cars in general. Like a couple of months ago when a casing on my radiator sprung a leak. Yeah, it happens. It's annoying, and I wish it wouldn't happen, but it does.
However, after looking around on the internet here, here, here, here, oh, and here, I discovered that this isn't just some random little oopsie needing to be repaired. Hundreds of people have had these problems with Focuses (or Foci, if you will) since they started being sold. This is a problem endemic to the Focus, and for those poor people who have had the dealer replace the part, or who have had a mechanic order the part from the manufacturer, it continues to be a problem. I read about one person who between 2000 and 2004 had the same part replaced 3 times. It's sort of a big problem when your customers physically cannot start their cars.
Thank goodness I have the internet as a resource and can see that not only is this a common problem, but a locksmith can fix it for substantially less than a dealership or a mechanic. So last night the locksmith came and took a look at my car, and we got to talking.* He confirmed what I had already read: they see a lot of Focuses with this exact problem. After hearing that for myself, I know that I will be filling out this complaint form, signing this petition, and I'm really bummed out that I can't get involved with the class action in California.
So, Mr. Ford, if you're wondering why your company is failing and why you're not selling many cars and having to let people go, I think I may have a couple of clues for you. First and foremost, you need to make more gas-efficient vehicles that appeal to the modern American consumer. But second, and equally important, you need to not tick off your loyal consumer base. My car, Bunny, has been a good friend for these past 2 1/2 years, but I now feel a teensy bit of betrayal, knowing that this problem was there all along, lurking, waiting to pounce. And you knew, Ford, you knew. You should have issued a recall years ago, but instead you decided it wasn't worth it for you. Well, your company is still failing despite (or maybe because of) your cheap tactics, and I will think very seriously in the future about whether or not I want to even consider buying a Ford again. That's a 30-year rider and driver of Fords talking. Take note.
* Unfortunately the guy who came last night couldn't fix it because the cylinder has to be replaced completely, but I will be making an appointment for the guy who can fix it to come by tonight and then hopefully it will be all fixed.
From: A Disgruntled Focus Owner
My family has been loyal Ford owners for some time, despite all those clever little sayings like "Found On the Road Dead." My early years were spent riding around in a big red LTD, which was then traded in for a Taurus wagon. The next year a teensy little Festiva was added to our family and I drove it all through high school and college and finally sold it when I graduated. My mom traded in the Taurus for an Escort and when my parents had to buy a car after my dad got a job in the Chicago suburbs they headed right to the Ford dealership.
Several years ago I noticed the Focus on the road and thought it was cute. Overall it seemed to get ok ratings and when it came time for me to buy a car I found I could get a relatively lightly used Focus for a lot less than a Corolla or Jetta. I knew those were better made cars, of course, but I could afford the Focus, the Focus was cute, and my family had always gone with the Fords.
Yesterday morning I got in my car, stuck the key in the ignition, and turned. Only the key didn't turn. It was stuck fast. I jiggled the steering wheel, took the key out and put it in again, tapped the key, turned the key over, rapped on the steering column a bit. Nothing. The key just would not turn in the ignition. So after putting a lot of money into my car a couple of months ago, I now have to shell out $200-$300 more to fix this ignition thing.
And you know, I could handle it if it was just one of those things that sometimes goes wrong with cars in general. Like a couple of months ago when a casing on my radiator sprung a leak. Yeah, it happens. It's annoying, and I wish it wouldn't happen, but it does.
However, after looking around on the internet here, here, here, here, oh, and here, I discovered that this isn't just some random little oopsie needing to be repaired. Hundreds of people have had these problems with Focuses (or Foci, if you will) since they started being sold. This is a problem endemic to the Focus, and for those poor people who have had the dealer replace the part, or who have had a mechanic order the part from the manufacturer, it continues to be a problem. I read about one person who between 2000 and 2004 had the same part replaced 3 times. It's sort of a big problem when your customers physically cannot start their cars.
Thank goodness I have the internet as a resource and can see that not only is this a common problem, but a locksmith can fix it for substantially less than a dealership or a mechanic. So last night the locksmith came and took a look at my car, and we got to talking.* He confirmed what I had already read: they see a lot of Focuses with this exact problem. After hearing that for myself, I know that I will be filling out this complaint form, signing this petition, and I'm really bummed out that I can't get involved with the class action in California.
So, Mr. Ford, if you're wondering why your company is failing and why you're not selling many cars and having to let people go, I think I may have a couple of clues for you. First and foremost, you need to make more gas-efficient vehicles that appeal to the modern American consumer. But second, and equally important, you need to not tick off your loyal consumer base. My car, Bunny, has been a good friend for these past 2 1/2 years, but I now feel a teensy bit of betrayal, knowing that this problem was there all along, lurking, waiting to pounce. And you knew, Ford, you knew. You should have issued a recall years ago, but instead you decided it wasn't worth it for you. Well, your company is still failing despite (or maybe because of) your cheap tactics, and I will think very seriously in the future about whether or not I want to even consider buying a Ford again. That's a 30-year rider and driver of Fords talking. Take note.
* Unfortunately the guy who came last night couldn't fix it because the cylinder has to be replaced completely, but I will be making an appointment for the guy who can fix it to come by tonight and then hopefully it will be all fixed.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Happy Halloween!
Today is actually warm here in Boston, which should be good news for the kids who won't have to ruin their costumes by putting coats on over them. I never had to worry about that growing up in Tucson. Never even thought about it really until I moved to Chicago.
Tonight I think my roommate Angie and I are going to watch a scary movie and eat popcorn. However, "scary" is relative and we have yet to decide whether scary equals Psycho or a Harry Potter movie. We will hopefully be joined by our other roommate Chrissy whenever she gets home from her job where they work her hard with no time and a half. That should be illegal. Then Jason and I may be going to a midnight Halloween organ concert, where I've been promised Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, which is really the Halloween song.
Here are some Halloweeny links for you all.
Witchy card sent to me by my mom
Ghost Research
13 Real Haunted Places
Worst Costumes Ever
Weird thing I realized this morning: You can sing/speak "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" to the tune of "Monster Mash." Do with that what you will.
Me and Chrissy
Angie
Jason
Tonight I think my roommate Angie and I are going to watch a scary movie and eat popcorn. However, "scary" is relative and we have yet to decide whether scary equals Psycho or a Harry Potter movie. We will hopefully be joined by our other roommate Chrissy whenever she gets home from her job where they work her hard with no time and a half. That should be illegal. Then Jason and I may be going to a midnight Halloween organ concert, where I've been promised Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, which is really the Halloween song.
Here are some Halloweeny links for you all.
Witchy card sent to me by my mom
Ghost Research
13 Real Haunted Places
Worst Costumes Ever
Weird thing I realized this morning: You can sing/speak "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" to the tune of "Monster Mash." Do with that what you will.
Me and Chrissy
Angie
Jason
Monday, October 30, 2006
So I Don't Know If You Heard, But It's Been Windy Up Here
You know it's windy when:
- There are whitecaps on the Charles River.
- You open your car door to get out and the wind closes the door back on you.
- Shopping carts take on lives of their own.
- All of the pretty Autumn leaves have fallen in the space of just a couple of hours.
- The whole concept of "umbrella" takes on an air of laughable futility and you resign yourself to getting soaked while you run all of your errands.
- You wake up angry that your neighbor is thumping his bass at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, until you realize it's actually the sound of the huge gales of wind thumping into the side of the house.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Things I Am Enjoying
- The optometrist down the street from my office who has put Halloween masks on all 20 or so model heads in the front window and then put glasses on them all. My favorite is the Queen Amidala mask with the sassy red frames.
- The crazy bells in Downtown Crossing. If you happen to arrive at Downtown Crossing at 8 AM, or are still there at 7 PM, you get serenaded by pealing bells, like those from a large church or cathedral. However, upon close listening, you discover that the bells aren't playing your standard hymns. No, instead they seem partial to TV and movie soundtracks. Wednesday night was the theme from Hill Street Blues and Thursday morning they played the theme to The Godfather. This morning it was a rousing rendition of Hello, Dolly.
- Cosi's new whole wheat bread. Makes me feel a little less guilty for indulging in the Wasabi Roast Beef sandwich that I love SO MUCH.
- H&M generally. Despite their sizes running small, I still manage to find a couple of cute things every time I go. The entire store is inspiration for losing weight because I want to buy it all. I stand agog, surrounded by cuteness at fabulous prices. The purchase I could not justify today was the $80 mod navy-colored coat with the big buttons. I already have a winter coat, but I looked adorable in it. Trust me.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Apple Picking and Waterfire
We went apple picking a couple of weekends ago because, you know, it's Fall and that's what you do. 
***
* Happily, the program I picked up at the end of the evening detailed all the music they played.
** Next year I totally want to volunteer to work on a wood boat.
*** Jason doesn't like to smile in pictures, because he's all anti-establishment like that. Usually I have to take two pictures of us. One where he looks all bored and blase, and one where I say, "OK now smile this time." I'm posting this one to point out how cute Brandon, Sarah and I look, while he looks really bored, even though I know he was having a fantastic time too. I'm just saying.
After trekking through the sadly overpicked orchard for awhile, we finally found the apples. Hurrah!
Last Saturday night we went to the last Waterfire of the season down in Providence. I had been hearing about how cool Waterfire was and how we needed to go. Frankly, I didn't expect a whole lot. I mean, it is something put on a by a city, how artsy and cool could it be? I sort of expected gas lines to come out of the river and light up and we were supposed to ooo and aah and that was it.
It was so much better than that. The fires were actually wood-burning fires in big bowls arranged in a long trail snaking down the river. It smelled heavenly, like a hundred campfires, and the heat coming off of the fires felt lovely since the night was nice and chilly. The played kind of ethereal music, with an Eastern European/Middle Eastern flavor that gave such a nice mood to everything.* Boats filled with wood** moved back and forth along the river, refilling the fires when they got low. A Pagliacci look-alike coasted along on a boat, handing out roses to people down by the water. Down at the end of the path were two people performing tricks with fire. Gondolas and water taxis coasted down the river among the fires, but we just walked along the path down near the water, soaking in the warmth of the fires. Under one bridge they had placed gas chandeliers to light the way.
Plus, the sponsor of the whole affair handed out free kettle corn, and several carnival food stands were set up on one of the bridges. We got some fried dough. It didn't infringe on the whole mood, since the food was on a bridge above the main path, but it did teach us that eating ahead of time isn't really necessary.
If you are ever in Providence on a night when Waterfire is on, I highly recommend it.
**** Happily, the program I picked up at the end of the evening detailed all the music they played.
** Next year I totally want to volunteer to work on a wood boat.
*** Jason doesn't like to smile in pictures, because he's all anti-establishment like that. Usually I have to take two pictures of us. One where he looks all bored and blase, and one where I say, "OK now smile this time." I'm posting this one to point out how cute Brandon, Sarah and I look, while he looks really bored, even though I know he was having a fantastic time too. I'm just saying.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
The Joys of the Season
My dilemma today is whether to wax poetic on soup, or give you another ghost story. How about both?
First off, the soup. I heart soup in a big, big way. One thing I do not like about summer (in addition to the sweatiness) is that I can't justify eating soup. I'm already hot and sweaty and don't really want to move all that much. I know, I'll pour some hot liquid into my stomach! Um, no.
However, Fall sets in and I revel in the soups and stews and chilis and chowders. It's all wonderful. I try to temper the cream-based, fatty nature of it a little by buying the Healthy Choice varieties or by going to Souper Salad, which has surprisingly low calorie soups. But sometimes I've got to indulge. I just have to say that Au Bon Pain's Harvest Pumpkin soup is Heaven in a little paper bowl.
Now it's story time.
My second year of college my friend Jenn and I moved into Our First Apartment(TM). It was a tiny complex of four apartments behind the Happiness is Submission to God house. If you're familiar with the University of Arizona area at all, you know exactly what I'm talking about, and you know how thrilled we were to be living at this landmark, parking in its parking lot. I'm not being sarcastic here. Thrilled!
On our first night there, the neighbors and all of their friends came over to welcome us. Turns out they were a group of people from Nogales who had all at one time or another lived in our particular apartment, which they informed us was "the haunted one."
They told us a sad story of how someone had been murdered in the parking lot for religious reasons and that since then, our apartment was haunted. They had stories of seeing dark mists in the bedrooms, and of the sliding glass door being broken during a thunderstorm and the glass arranging itself oddly in the house.
We thought that they were just trying to scare the new kids and didn't really take them seriously, although it was kind of fun to have a ghost story associated with our place. Every time something went missing or something strange happened we blamed the ghost.
One day I was putting my contacts in and dropped one. I looked all over the bathroom and got down on my hands and knees with a flashlight. It was nowhere. So I ordered another one from my eye doctor.
About a week later I got a call saying the contact was in. I mentioned it to Jenn who said, "You never found it?" I told her no and she suggested maybe the ghost took it. I said that must be in and then said, "OK, Ghost, can I please have my contact back?"
A couple of minutes later I walked into the bathroom and there on the countertop was my contact. I called Jenn in and pointed to it. She said, "Is that your contact?" I said yes. Then I said, "I guess we shouldn't make fun of the ghost anymore, huh?"
We didn't really have any more experiences (although, Jenn, if I'm forgetting something, please let me know), but that one was enough to make me think maybe those Nogales kids weren't just kidding around.
First off, the soup. I heart soup in a big, big way. One thing I do not like about summer (in addition to the sweatiness) is that I can't justify eating soup. I'm already hot and sweaty and don't really want to move all that much. I know, I'll pour some hot liquid into my stomach! Um, no.
However, Fall sets in and I revel in the soups and stews and chilis and chowders. It's all wonderful. I try to temper the cream-based, fatty nature of it a little by buying the Healthy Choice varieties or by going to Souper Salad, which has surprisingly low calorie soups. But sometimes I've got to indulge. I just have to say that Au Bon Pain's Harvest Pumpkin soup is Heaven in a little paper bowl.
Now it's story time.
My second year of college my friend Jenn and I moved into Our First Apartment(TM). It was a tiny complex of four apartments behind the Happiness is Submission to God house. If you're familiar with the University of Arizona area at all, you know exactly what I'm talking about, and you know how thrilled we were to be living at this landmark, parking in its parking lot. I'm not being sarcastic here. Thrilled!
On our first night there, the neighbors and all of their friends came over to welcome us. Turns out they were a group of people from Nogales who had all at one time or another lived in our particular apartment, which they informed us was "the haunted one."
They told us a sad story of how someone had been murdered in the parking lot for religious reasons and that since then, our apartment was haunted. They had stories of seeing dark mists in the bedrooms, and of the sliding glass door being broken during a thunderstorm and the glass arranging itself oddly in the house.
We thought that they were just trying to scare the new kids and didn't really take them seriously, although it was kind of fun to have a ghost story associated with our place. Every time something went missing or something strange happened we blamed the ghost.
One day I was putting my contacts in and dropped one. I looked all over the bathroom and got down on my hands and knees with a flashlight. It was nowhere. So I ordered another one from my eye doctor.
About a week later I got a call saying the contact was in. I mentioned it to Jenn who said, "You never found it?" I told her no and she suggested maybe the ghost took it. I said that must be in and then said, "OK, Ghost, can I please have my contact back?"
A couple of minutes later I walked into the bathroom and there on the countertop was my contact. I called Jenn in and pointed to it. She said, "Is that your contact?" I said yes. Then I said, "I guess we shouldn't make fun of the ghost anymore, huh?"
We didn't really have any more experiences (although, Jenn, if I'm forgetting something, please let me know), but that one was enough to make me think maybe those Nogales kids weren't just kidding around.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Spoooooky
This story isn't actually mine, but some co-workers and I were discussing the whole ghost thing a few days ago and his story came out. Basically, there is a little girl who keeps showing up in his apartment. He admits that he has seen her generally when he's tired and about ready to go to bed, but he's still awake. There was also one instance in the middle of the day when he caught her out of the corner of his eye. He usually sees her out of the corner of his eye, but he says she is definitely there. She looks to be about 10 years old, and he says he feels like she watches him until he notices her and then she disappears.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Ghosties and Ghoulies and Long-Legged Creepies and Things That Go Bump in the Night
In honor of the spooky season, and the rainy, dreary day today, I'm going to post some of my ghost stories for your enjoyment. Please feel free to join in. If you'd rather not post in the comments, email me your stories at frazzled.kelly@gmail.com, and I'll post them (anonymously, if you like).
I am a big fan of ghost stories. The kind of stories that make your flesh crawl and wonder if anyone is looking over your shoulder. I love movies like The Sixth Sense, The Others, and Poltergeist. In my youth I devoured tales of ghosts from the library. Between the ghost books and my interest in Greek mythology, my reputation as that weird, geeky girl was obviously well-deserved.
Throughout my life I have had various experiences of ghostliness. I suppose you could argue that my penchant for ghost stories affected my dreams and produced these "ghosts." Or, maybe my experiences inspired my desire to learn more about ghostly tales. Some of my experiences can be explained away by the fact that they were in the middle of the night, right after I woke up, but some of them I have no explanation for.
So here we go.
**********************************
I had several unexplained occurrences in the house I grew up in. After telling my mom about a couple of them, she told me about her own experience.
Right after we bought the house, my mom went over to clean before we moved in. She knew from the realtor that an elderly woman named Ella McGuire had bought the house when it was built and had lived there with her husband. The husband passed away, and a few years later, Ella followed. Then my parents bought the house.
While she cleaned, my mom kept feeling like someone was watching her, following her as she went through the house. Finally she stopped and said out loud, "Ella, don't worry. We'll take care of your house." She said the feeling went away and she never again felt a presence in the house.
I, however, used to hear things. Mostly footsteps. One time when I was alone in the house, practicing the piano downstairs, I heard footsteps above me. I stopped playing and a couple of seconds later, the footsteps stopped. I sat there for a moment, wondering what to do, listening for noise upstairs, and when I didn't hear anything else, I started playing again. The footsteps started up again. I stopped playing and a few seconds later the footsteps stopped. I stared up the staircase, wondering if someone was going to come down.
I thought someone had gotten into the house so I went to the back door, thinking if someone came down the stairs I could run to the neighbor's house. I probably stood there for about 15 minutes and didn't hear anything else upstairs. Eventually, I did the exact wrong thing and actually went upstairs to check things out. I opened all the closets and looked behind shower curtains. Nothing. The windows were all closed and I was still the only one in the house.
My most vivid experience in that house occurred on a bright sunny day while I lay on my bed reading a book, my cat lying next to me. Suddenly I heard footsteps charging up the stairs. I thought maybe it was one of my friends who had come over, but when the steps reached the top of the stairs, they ran down the hall to my doorway. My door was open and there was no one there. My cat had jumped from her sleeping position and was now staring fixedly at the doorway. I sat, frozen. Just as suddenly as they had come up the stairs, the footsteps retreated, running down the stairs and slamming the front door.
I sat on my bed for a few minutes, not really knowing what had just happened. Eventually, I went downstairs where my parents were sitting in the family room watching TV, on the opposite side of the house from the staircase. I asked them, feeling ridiculous, if maybe one of them had just run up the stairs and then run down the stairs and slammed the door. They looked at me like I was crazy and shook their heads. So I told them what I had heard. They believed me, but of course had no explanation either.
I am a big fan of ghost stories. The kind of stories that make your flesh crawl and wonder if anyone is looking over your shoulder. I love movies like The Sixth Sense, The Others, and Poltergeist. In my youth I devoured tales of ghosts from the library. Between the ghost books and my interest in Greek mythology, my reputation as that weird, geeky girl was obviously well-deserved.
Throughout my life I have had various experiences of ghostliness. I suppose you could argue that my penchant for ghost stories affected my dreams and produced these "ghosts." Or, maybe my experiences inspired my desire to learn more about ghostly tales. Some of my experiences can be explained away by the fact that they were in the middle of the night, right after I woke up, but some of them I have no explanation for.
So here we go.
**********************************
I had several unexplained occurrences in the house I grew up in. After telling my mom about a couple of them, she told me about her own experience.
Right after we bought the house, my mom went over to clean before we moved in. She knew from the realtor that an elderly woman named Ella McGuire had bought the house when it was built and had lived there with her husband. The husband passed away, and a few years later, Ella followed. Then my parents bought the house.
While she cleaned, my mom kept feeling like someone was watching her, following her as she went through the house. Finally she stopped and said out loud, "Ella, don't worry. We'll take care of your house." She said the feeling went away and she never again felt a presence in the house.
I, however, used to hear things. Mostly footsteps. One time when I was alone in the house, practicing the piano downstairs, I heard footsteps above me. I stopped playing and a couple of seconds later, the footsteps stopped. I sat there for a moment, wondering what to do, listening for noise upstairs, and when I didn't hear anything else, I started playing again. The footsteps started up again. I stopped playing and a few seconds later the footsteps stopped. I stared up the staircase, wondering if someone was going to come down.
I thought someone had gotten into the house so I went to the back door, thinking if someone came down the stairs I could run to the neighbor's house. I probably stood there for about 15 minutes and didn't hear anything else upstairs. Eventually, I did the exact wrong thing and actually went upstairs to check things out. I opened all the closets and looked behind shower curtains. Nothing. The windows were all closed and I was still the only one in the house.
My most vivid experience in that house occurred on a bright sunny day while I lay on my bed reading a book, my cat lying next to me. Suddenly I heard footsteps charging up the stairs. I thought maybe it was one of my friends who had come over, but when the steps reached the top of the stairs, they ran down the hall to my doorway. My door was open and there was no one there. My cat had jumped from her sleeping position and was now staring fixedly at the doorway. I sat, frozen. Just as suddenly as they had come up the stairs, the footsteps retreated, running down the stairs and slamming the front door.
I sat on my bed for a few minutes, not really knowing what had just happened. Eventually, I went downstairs where my parents were sitting in the family room watching TV, on the opposite side of the house from the staircase. I asked them, feeling ridiculous, if maybe one of them had just run up the stairs and then run down the stairs and slammed the door. They looked at me like I was crazy and shook their heads. So I told them what I had heard. They believed me, but of course had no explanation either.
Copping Out
I'm going to a Halloween party next week and I have NO IDEA what to dress up as. I think I prefer theme parties, since then you have parameters - even if I tend to be really unimaginative within those parameters. The thing that bugs me is that I have thought of at least 3 Halloween costumes during the course of this year and each time I told myself to remember them because I knew once Halloween rolled around and I possibly had a party to go to and was put on the spot I'd be unable to think of anything. Do I remember those ideas? Did I write any of them down? Of course not.
So anyone have any costume ideas? I need something kind of simple since shopping time and money are limited.
I suppose I could always go as a beatnik like I did a couple of years ago. I have a beret and funky blue-purple glasses with black frames. But I kind of want something original. Oh yeah, I would also like to be pretty if that's possible at all. My favorite costume ever was the Southern belle get-up freshman year of high school. I may have been all snaggletoothed (pre-braces, after all), but I sure looked elegant.
So anyone have any costume ideas? I need something kind of simple since shopping time and money are limited.
I suppose I could always go as a beatnik like I did a couple of years ago. I have a beret and funky blue-purple glasses with black frames. But I kind of want something original. Oh yeah, I would also like to be pretty if that's possible at all. My favorite costume ever was the Southern belle get-up freshman year of high school. I may have been all snaggletoothed (pre-braces, after all), but I sure looked elegant.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Clumsiness Personified
There's a rumor going around that I am a klutz. Actually this kind of surprised me since I never really thought of myself that way. I mean, it's not like I thought I was the Queen of Grace or something, but I didn't think "clumsy" described me. Then several years ago my parents made some comment in front of me and the guy I was dating about me being clumsy. I was going to object vehemently when I noticed the guy nodding in agreement.
"Really? You think I'm clumsy?" I asked him, aghast.
He looked a little sheepish then. "Well, yeah, kind of."
As if to emphasize his point, a couple of nights later I missed a step coming out of my apartment building and almost fell right on my face. This was my building, mind you, and I had been up and down those steps at least 572 times by that point.
When telling tales of scars and broken bones with friends, I somehow seem to have racked up an inordinate amount of injuries. Historically, I have a high tolerance for pain so I often can't really tell how badly I've hurt myself. Over the years I've learned that if I feel like I'm going to throw up, I've probably broken something. The pain really isn't an indicator to me.
I have broken my collarbone twice. Fractured my right arm ice skating. Sprained my ankle jumping on a trampoline. Ripped off my big toenail by kicking a stone step. Bent my tailbone. Fractured my right sacrum (bone in the lower back). Broke a bone in my wrist that I didn't realize I had broken until a couple of years ago when I noticed that the bones in my two wrists were positioned differently (After comparing my wrists with those of my friends, I realized my left one is messed up and I think I know when I did it, but I can't be sure). Except for the time I broke my collarbone when I was 4 and ripping off my toenail, I never had any idea how badly I'd hurt myself until several days, or even years, later. This includes when I broke my collarbone as a baby. My mom said I was fussy for a few days, but it wasn't until she picked me up and heard something click that she realized something was wrong.
My latest injury is a sprained ankle. It's not a bad sprain, but it is sore and it swelled up nicely. I did it walking down the street. A co-worker told me I need to come up with a better story. In my defense, I would just like to state that the sidewalks in Boston are a menace. There are cracks and fissures all over.
On Monday morning on the way to work my left foot hit an uneven spot in the sidewalk, my ankle turned, and I did this marvelous move of stumbling, dropping to my right knee, and then popping right back up. The lady walking behind me asked if I was okay and I said yes, and explained that my ankle had turned. She tsked and said, "That sidewalk is bad!" See! Validation!
Since I just sit at work, I didn't really know how bad it was until I walked the mile home and then drove my manual transmission car down to Providence that night. By the time I got to Jason's, I had a nice knot on my ankle. Over the past few days I have iced and heated my ankle and wrapped it in an ace bandage to hold it still.
Despite my attempts to be graceful and aware of my surroundings, I am still the pinnacle of clumsiness. Pity me.
"Really? You think I'm clumsy?" I asked him, aghast.
He looked a little sheepish then. "Well, yeah, kind of."
As if to emphasize his point, a couple of nights later I missed a step coming out of my apartment building and almost fell right on my face. This was my building, mind you, and I had been up and down those steps at least 572 times by that point.
When telling tales of scars and broken bones with friends, I somehow seem to have racked up an inordinate amount of injuries. Historically, I have a high tolerance for pain so I often can't really tell how badly I've hurt myself. Over the years I've learned that if I feel like I'm going to throw up, I've probably broken something. The pain really isn't an indicator to me.
I have broken my collarbone twice. Fractured my right arm ice skating. Sprained my ankle jumping on a trampoline. Ripped off my big toenail by kicking a stone step. Bent my tailbone. Fractured my right sacrum (bone in the lower back). Broke a bone in my wrist that I didn't realize I had broken until a couple of years ago when I noticed that the bones in my two wrists were positioned differently (After comparing my wrists with those of my friends, I realized my left one is messed up and I think I know when I did it, but I can't be sure). Except for the time I broke my collarbone when I was 4 and ripping off my toenail, I never had any idea how badly I'd hurt myself until several days, or even years, later. This includes when I broke my collarbone as a baby. My mom said I was fussy for a few days, but it wasn't until she picked me up and heard something click that she realized something was wrong.
My latest injury is a sprained ankle. It's not a bad sprain, but it is sore and it swelled up nicely. I did it walking down the street. A co-worker told me I need to come up with a better story. In my defense, I would just like to state that the sidewalks in Boston are a menace. There are cracks and fissures all over.
On Monday morning on the way to work my left foot hit an uneven spot in the sidewalk, my ankle turned, and I did this marvelous move of stumbling, dropping to my right knee, and then popping right back up. The lady walking behind me asked if I was okay and I said yes, and explained that my ankle had turned. She tsked and said, "That sidewalk is bad!" See! Validation!
Since I just sit at work, I didn't really know how bad it was until I walked the mile home and then drove my manual transmission car down to Providence that night. By the time I got to Jason's, I had a nice knot on my ankle. Over the past few days I have iced and heated my ankle and wrapped it in an ace bandage to hold it still.
Despite my attempts to be graceful and aware of my surroundings, I am still the pinnacle of clumsiness. Pity me.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Needing Some Good Karma Coming My Way
I interviewed this morning and I think it went really well, but, as they themselves told me, they got a HUGE response from their posting. I should find out within the next couple of weeks if I got a second interview or not. After meeting with them, I do still really, really, really want the job so I've got my fingers and my toes crossed.
Both of the people I met with were personable and the office sounds like a good environment. Small, collaborative.
Good signs:
- There were several instances of casual jokes and laughter.
- When I answered their questions there was a lot of smiling and nodding in agreement. For instance, they asked why I want to work in health care. I gave my touchy-feely answer, which also happens to be the true answer, and it seemed to be what they wanted to hear. I see it as a good sign when my answer seems to directly correlate to what their own answers would probably be based on their follow-up comments.
So to sum up, stiff competition, but I think it went well.
Both of the people I met with were personable and the office sounds like a good environment. Small, collaborative.
Good signs:
- There were several instances of casual jokes and laughter.
- When I answered their questions there was a lot of smiling and nodding in agreement. For instance, they asked why I want to work in health care. I gave my touchy-feely answer, which also happens to be the true answer, and it seemed to be what they wanted to hear. I see it as a good sign when my answer seems to directly correlate to what their own answers would probably be based on their follow-up comments.
So to sum up, stiff competition, but I think it went well.
Needing Some Good Karma Coming My Way
I interviewed this morning and I think it went really well, but, as they themselves told me, they got a HUGE response from their posting. I should find out within the next couple of weeks if I got a second interview or not. After meeting with them, I do still really, really, really want the job so I've got my fingers and my toes crossed.
Both of the people I met with were personable and the office sounds like a good environment. Small, collaborative.
Good signs:
- There were several instances of casual jokes and laughter.
- When I answered their questions there was a lot of smiling and nodding in agreement. For instance, they asked why I want to work in health care. I gave my touchy-feely answer, which also happens to be the true answer, and it seemed to be what they wanted to hear. I see it as a good sign when my answer seems to directly correlate to what their own answers would probably be based on their follow-up comments.
So to sum up, stiff competition, but I think it went well.
Both of the people I met with were personable and the office sounds like a good environment. Small, collaborative.
Good signs:
- There were several instances of casual jokes and laughter.
- When I answered their questions there was a lot of smiling and nodding in agreement. For instance, they asked why I want to work in health care. I gave my touchy-feely answer, which also happens to be the true answer, and it seemed to be what they wanted to hear. I see it as a good sign when my answer seems to directly correlate to what their own answers would probably be based on their follow-up comments.
So to sum up, stiff competition, but I think it went well.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
True Love
While putting together my "Party Party" mix Saturday night, Jason started playing a song for me. Upon hearing the first couple of notes I recognized it as Richard Marx's Right Here Waiting.
Me: I loved this song in 7th grade.*
Jason: I could play this on the piano back then.**
Me: Oh my gosh, I would have SO been your girlfriend.
Jason: I might still be able to play it, actually...
* Because I was super cool like that.
** Jason was super cool too.
Me: I loved this song in 7th grade.*
Jason: I could play this on the piano back then.**
Me: Oh my gosh, I would have SO been your girlfriend.
Jason: I might still be able to play it, actually...
* Because I was super cool like that.
** Jason was super cool too.
Can't Think of A Catchy Subject Line
For the 15 or so of you who still read my blog, Hi there.
I know I am sporadic and unreliable, and when I actually do write, I'm kind of boring. But here's the scoop. First, for the past 2 weeks I've been reading background materials on the case for my temp job in a place where the only computers we had access to were located in a workroom with paralegals buzzing around. Now we're at the work site and I am one of the fortunate ones who actually has a computer, but, alas, no login to the system yet. So we're still reading the case materials. One thing I don't like is my computer faces out to the room at large so everyone and their brother can see what I'm doing. So now I have to have a work ethic and junk.
Second, I am STILL not completely moved in and I'm finding this frustrating. I have 3 boxes to deal with, a load of stuff to take to Salvation Army, and a stack of papers to sift through, ideally before one of the bills in the stack becomes due.
Third, one of the reasons I am still not moved in is because I've been having birthday festivities and occasional drives down to Providence to see my man. It's really not that big a deal, and way easier than the whole Boston to DC and DC to Boston thing was, but it still takes an hour each way for us to hang out.
Fourth, I have an interview and am all a-flutter and calling in all my contacts to get advice. I really, really, really want this job. I made it through the HR screening and have an in-person interview tomorrow morning. Then there's a second round. Did I mention I really want this job? I was kind of reticent to post about the interview here because if I don't get the job then I have to announce that too and I'm tired of doing that, but I figure I can use all the good vibes and good wishes I can get. So please send some good feelings in my direction tomorrow around 9:30 AM.
And that's that. My birthday party was Saturday night and it was fun. Low key, but fun. Or maybe it's low key and fun. Or low key, thus fun. I guess it depends on your perspective.
I have also decided that I'm going to start leaving progressively more hateful notes on the cars of my neighbors who can't seem to figure out A) how to parallel park, and B) that they are not the only people who live in this neighborhood and park on the street. I came home last night at about 12:30 and drove around and around becoming more and more irritated as I counted at least 20 cars taking up 2 parking spaces. I think my favorite was the van parked in an area that has been known to accomodate 3 cars.
I know I am sporadic and unreliable, and when I actually do write, I'm kind of boring. But here's the scoop. First, for the past 2 weeks I've been reading background materials on the case for my temp job in a place where the only computers we had access to were located in a workroom with paralegals buzzing around. Now we're at the work site and I am one of the fortunate ones who actually has a computer, but, alas, no login to the system yet. So we're still reading the case materials. One thing I don't like is my computer faces out to the room at large so everyone and their brother can see what I'm doing. So now I have to have a work ethic and junk.
Second, I am STILL not completely moved in and I'm finding this frustrating. I have 3 boxes to deal with, a load of stuff to take to Salvation Army, and a stack of papers to sift through, ideally before one of the bills in the stack becomes due.
Third, one of the reasons I am still not moved in is because I've been having birthday festivities and occasional drives down to Providence to see my man. It's really not that big a deal, and way easier than the whole Boston to DC and DC to Boston thing was, but it still takes an hour each way for us to hang out.
Fourth, I have an interview and am all a-flutter and calling in all my contacts to get advice. I really, really, really want this job. I made it through the HR screening and have an in-person interview tomorrow morning. Then there's a second round. Did I mention I really want this job? I was kind of reticent to post about the interview here because if I don't get the job then I have to announce that too and I'm tired of doing that, but I figure I can use all the good vibes and good wishes I can get. So please send some good feelings in my direction tomorrow around 9:30 AM.
And that's that. My birthday party was Saturday night and it was fun. Low key, but fun. Or maybe it's low key and fun. Or low key, thus fun. I guess it depends on your perspective.
I have also decided that I'm going to start leaving progressively more hateful notes on the cars of my neighbors who can't seem to figure out A) how to parallel park, and B) that they are not the only people who live in this neighborhood and park on the street. I came home last night at about 12:30 and drove around and around becoming more and more irritated as I counted at least 20 cars taking up 2 parking spaces. I think my favorite was the van parked in an area that has been known to accomodate 3 cars.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Pictures (ie Jason Has A Memory Card Reader)
We ate lunch here.
Seafood pizza with scallops, shrimp and crab, conch fritters and sweet potato fries. Yum!
Jason got a gumball.
Big house at the beginning of the cliff walk. Or the end of the cliff walk, depending on where you start.
View from the path.
Big house.
The Breakers. Some people had too much money.
Mossy rocks
Fisherman
Happy Birthday to me!
Seafood pizza with scallops, shrimp and crab, conch fritters and sweet potato fries. Yum!Jason got a gumball.
Big house at the beginning of the cliff walk. Or the end of the cliff walk, depending on where you start.
View from the path.
Big house.
The Breakers. Some people had too much money.
Mossy rocks
Fisherman
Happy Birthday to me!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Missing Stuff
So I had a really excellent birthday (and it's not over yet), and I have pictures to show you all, but I can't get at them because some things seem to have disappeared in my move. Of note are my packing tape dispenser, my memory card reader, and the cord that connects my camera to my computer. The packing tape isn't really important to this post, but both the reader and the cord are integral to the whole transferring pictures to my computer process. Darn it!
Well, to sum up, the past couple of days have been wonderful! Jason has been so sweet to me. On Monday afternoon we drove down to Newport, Rhode Island where he took me out to dunch (it was 3 PM or so) and then for a walk on the cliff path. It was an amazingly beautiful day and we saw some awesome houses.
I took yesterday off of work and spent a couple of hours roaming around Target, buying presents for my 3 friends who are having babies soon. You know what? Despite my cooing over the adorable clothes and accessories, I actually felt really glad that I myself am not having a baby. Mostly because, well, do you have any idea how much paraphenalia babies need? A lot. And they keep growing and eating and pooping so you have to replace a lot of the paraphenalia on a regular basis. It's kind of exhausting just thinking about it. But I'll be a happy pretend Auntie to my friends' babies any day.
Jason came over in the early evening, having left work early to come hang out with me. He brought me a few little presents: a mum plant, an oregano plant (mmm, herbs!), a pretty candle holder with leaves and a little bird. Then he took me out to dinner at Oleana, which you need to go to if you're near Cambridge. I had lamb steak and fava bean moussaka, and Jason had salmon with an autumn vegetable tabbouleh. It was all divine.
Even though it was chilly, they had heaters set up outside which kept the lovely garden area nice and toasty. There were dahlias blooming in the garden and a little bit after we arrived two musicians came and started playing Mediterranean music on an instrument that looked like a big lute (I don't know what it's called) and a drum. Then a couple showed up with their little girl who announced that they were playing music so that she could dance. Well, of course.
After dinner Jason and I went to go see Little Miss Sunshine, which was great. Funny, sad, heartwarming. Excellent. We capped off the evening with ice cream cake back at my apartment with my roommates.
I also got some great cards and presents from family and friends. I think my favorite was the Jane Austen action figure from my Aunt Vickie. Complete with writing desk and quill pen! Rock. On.
This Saturday night is my birthday party, and then next Saturday my friend Liz and I are going out for lunch or dinner since her birthday was on the 7th. I love stretching out the celebration.
Well, to sum up, the past couple of days have been wonderful! Jason has been so sweet to me. On Monday afternoon we drove down to Newport, Rhode Island where he took me out to dunch (it was 3 PM or so) and then for a walk on the cliff path. It was an amazingly beautiful day and we saw some awesome houses.
I took yesterday off of work and spent a couple of hours roaming around Target, buying presents for my 3 friends who are having babies soon. You know what? Despite my cooing over the adorable clothes and accessories, I actually felt really glad that I myself am not having a baby. Mostly because, well, do you have any idea how much paraphenalia babies need? A lot. And they keep growing and eating and pooping so you have to replace a lot of the paraphenalia on a regular basis. It's kind of exhausting just thinking about it. But I'll be a happy pretend Auntie to my friends' babies any day.
Jason came over in the early evening, having left work early to come hang out with me. He brought me a few little presents: a mum plant, an oregano plant (mmm, herbs!), a pretty candle holder with leaves and a little bird. Then he took me out to dinner at Oleana, which you need to go to if you're near Cambridge. I had lamb steak and fava bean moussaka, and Jason had salmon with an autumn vegetable tabbouleh. It was all divine.
Even though it was chilly, they had heaters set up outside which kept the lovely garden area nice and toasty. There were dahlias blooming in the garden and a little bit after we arrived two musicians came and started playing Mediterranean music on an instrument that looked like a big lute (I don't know what it's called) and a drum. Then a couple showed up with their little girl who announced that they were playing music so that she could dance. Well, of course.
After dinner Jason and I went to go see Little Miss Sunshine, which was great. Funny, sad, heartwarming. Excellent. We capped off the evening with ice cream cake back at my apartment with my roommates.
I also got some great cards and presents from family and friends. I think my favorite was the Jane Austen action figure from my Aunt Vickie. Complete with writing desk and quill pen! Rock. On.
This Saturday night is my birthday party, and then next Saturday my friend Liz and I are going out for lunch or dinner since her birthday was on the 7th. I love stretching out the celebration.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
This and That
My ipod is broken. Friday at work it suddenly quit in the middle of a song. I tried resetting it and it just showed me a little picture of a folder with an exclamation point. So I plugged it in today and itunes attempted to restore it, then told me it couldn't be restored. Crap. I guess it's off to the Apple store I go on Tuesday to see if they have any advice. I'd hate to think that it's dead after only a little less than 2 years. Hopefully I can get it fixed quickly since reading the background materials on the case at work is unbearable in absolute silence.
So I've been a working girl again since Tuesday. Not that I really had a break, but this is a new job in a new city. I am so glad that I got work right away, as it makes life more comfortable and I don't fee guilty for buying frivolous things like food. For the first two weeks at my new job we're just reading the background materials of the case. Some of it is mildly interesting, some of it is just really, really not. The good thing is, since we're only reading we were allowed to bring home materials to make up some hours at home for Columbus Day.
There are 6 of us sittng in a conference room reading all day. After the first day, we all pretty much determined that frequent chatting breaks were both useful and necessary to preserve our sanity as much as possible. It's amazing what you can find out about people after 4 days together in a small room. I'm working with some interesting folks, who all seem to be doing other things on the side. One guy is a musician/lawyer/former pastry chef. One guy is searching for a job in health care just like me. Rather than focus on our inherent competition, we've decided to swap emails and keep each other abreast on leads. The other woman in the room is doing a pro bono divorce for a family friend that has escalated way beyond what she ever imagined and has her rethinking that whole "pro bono" idea.
I did bring some work home this weekend, and planned on doing about 4 hours today, but instead I got caught up in unpacking. I thought I would unpack some and then read, but I just couldn't stop with the unpacking and the tidying and the hanging things on walls. I still have some piles around my room, but the majority of the boxes are gone and I actually have a floor. Plus I have 3 boxes of stuff for Salvation Army and 5 full trash bags downstairs in the trash cans. I also have a new clothing policy: if I buy something new, I have to get rid of something. I bought 4 sweaters at Macy's on Tuesday and I managed to find 4 shirts to get rid of today.
Tomorrow I'm cooking chicken and dumplings because it's Fall and chilly. Or at least it has been for the last couple of days, I have loved wearing socks and snuggling down in my bed, which is The Most Comfortable Bed in the World thanks to 400 thread count sheets, a microsuede duvet and a lovely memory foam on top of the mattress. Plus, the bed has risers so every time I get in it, I kind of have to hop up because it's so high. I'd like a little set of steps to walk up to my bed, which would greatly appeal to my Victorian sensibilities.
I still have time to finish my homework since I am actually taking a four-day weekend. Monday is Columbus Day and the firm is closed, but Tuesday is my birthday and I took the day off just because I could. I will work a little, but I intend to laze about a bit too. I wanted a chocolate raspberry ice cream cake, but no one has chocolate raspberry ice cream right now. Sadness. So I settled for cookies and cream, which I honestly like a lot, but it's not quite chocolate raspberry, is it? And I'm having a party on Saturday. If you know me in real life, and didn't get the evite, email me. I want everyone to come and adore me. Well, and enjoy the tasty treats. I think I may mull some cider for the occasion.
So I've been a working girl again since Tuesday. Not that I really had a break, but this is a new job in a new city. I am so glad that I got work right away, as it makes life more comfortable and I don't fee guilty for buying frivolous things like food. For the first two weeks at my new job we're just reading the background materials of the case. Some of it is mildly interesting, some of it is just really, really not. The good thing is, since we're only reading we were allowed to bring home materials to make up some hours at home for Columbus Day.
There are 6 of us sittng in a conference room reading all day. After the first day, we all pretty much determined that frequent chatting breaks were both useful and necessary to preserve our sanity as much as possible. It's amazing what you can find out about people after 4 days together in a small room. I'm working with some interesting folks, who all seem to be doing other things on the side. One guy is a musician/lawyer/former pastry chef. One guy is searching for a job in health care just like me. Rather than focus on our inherent competition, we've decided to swap emails and keep each other abreast on leads. The other woman in the room is doing a pro bono divorce for a family friend that has escalated way beyond what she ever imagined and has her rethinking that whole "pro bono" idea.
I did bring some work home this weekend, and planned on doing about 4 hours today, but instead I got caught up in unpacking. I thought I would unpack some and then read, but I just couldn't stop with the unpacking and the tidying and the hanging things on walls. I still have some piles around my room, but the majority of the boxes are gone and I actually have a floor. Plus I have 3 boxes of stuff for Salvation Army and 5 full trash bags downstairs in the trash cans. I also have a new clothing policy: if I buy something new, I have to get rid of something. I bought 4 sweaters at Macy's on Tuesday and I managed to find 4 shirts to get rid of today.
Tomorrow I'm cooking chicken and dumplings because it's Fall and chilly. Or at least it has been for the last couple of days, I have loved wearing socks and snuggling down in my bed, which is The Most Comfortable Bed in the World thanks to 400 thread count sheets, a microsuede duvet and a lovely memory foam on top of the mattress. Plus, the bed has risers so every time I get in it, I kind of have to hop up because it's so high. I'd like a little set of steps to walk up to my bed, which would greatly appeal to my Victorian sensibilities.
I still have time to finish my homework since I am actually taking a four-day weekend. Monday is Columbus Day and the firm is closed, but Tuesday is my birthday and I took the day off just because I could. I will work a little, but I intend to laze about a bit too. I wanted a chocolate raspberry ice cream cake, but no one has chocolate raspberry ice cream right now. Sadness. So I settled for cookies and cream, which I honestly like a lot, but it's not quite chocolate raspberry, is it? And I'm having a party on Saturday. If you know me in real life, and didn't get the evite, email me. I want everyone to come and adore me. Well, and enjoy the tasty treats. I think I may mull some cider for the occasion.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Things I'm Learning
In case you were wondering, I made it to Boston. I just have to say that driving my little car up in wonderful, beautiful sunshine and skipping New York City altogether because I can take the Garden State Parkway in a car is much preferable to driving up in a moving truck underneath a neverending storm cloud. Other than the entire state of Delaware being under construction and the resulting traffic jams, the drive up was great. Now I'm trying to get all of my stuff unpacked. Tomorrow I'll be hitting IKEA for a new dresser and bookshelf.
It does feel kind of weird to be back. Almost like I never left. Like that year in DC was just a little blip in my Boston existence. Friday night I hung out with Jason and then he went home and I stayed at my apartment and it reminded me what it's like to live in the same city as your boyfriend. It also reminded me that it kind of sucks to have to say good night.
Last night I went to a Finnish sauna with some friends (because I now have a life again). Very low-tech and utilitarian, but nice. You sit in the hot, HOT (216 degrees) room and bake and sweat and then you go jump in the cold lake. A Massachusetts lake in late September is obviously not as extreme as a hole cut in the ice somewhere in Finland, but it was cold enough for me.
The only bad part was when our friend Christy tripped in this big hole behind the parking space and sprained her ankle. As an attorney, I suppose I could advise her to sue, but, I don't know, it's just not very neighborly. Everyone there was so nice and helpful and there seemed to be a real community around the sauna experience. One woman brought tubs of scrubs and cocoa butter and loofahs to share, as well as some eucalyptus oil, which we mixed in the water that we threw over the rocks.
I need to get used to the idea that I can see Jason on a regular basis. Today I came down to Providence and he had forgotten that he had to be somewhere in Boston at 3:30. So we only had a couple of hours together, during part of which he was working on a fellowship application. I felt kind of ticked when he told me he'd have to come back up to Boston so soon because I thought we'd have the whole day together, but then I realized that this isn't just my weekend visit time like before. I can actually see him probably tomorrow and Tuesday if I want. Sometimes our time won't be planned perfectly, but that's alright because now there's always more around the corner. It's a nice realization
It does feel kind of weird to be back. Almost like I never left. Like that year in DC was just a little blip in my Boston existence. Friday night I hung out with Jason and then he went home and I stayed at my apartment and it reminded me what it's like to live in the same city as your boyfriend. It also reminded me that it kind of sucks to have to say good night.
Last night I went to a Finnish sauna with some friends (because I now have a life again). Very low-tech and utilitarian, but nice. You sit in the hot, HOT (216 degrees) room and bake and sweat and then you go jump in the cold lake. A Massachusetts lake in late September is obviously not as extreme as a hole cut in the ice somewhere in Finland, but it was cold enough for me.
The only bad part was when our friend Christy tripped in this big hole behind the parking space and sprained her ankle. As an attorney, I suppose I could advise her to sue, but, I don't know, it's just not very neighborly. Everyone there was so nice and helpful and there seemed to be a real community around the sauna experience. One woman brought tubs of scrubs and cocoa butter and loofahs to share, as well as some eucalyptus oil, which we mixed in the water that we threw over the rocks.
I need to get used to the idea that I can see Jason on a regular basis. Today I came down to Providence and he had forgotten that he had to be somewhere in Boston at 3:30. So we only had a couple of hours together, during part of which he was working on a fellowship application. I felt kind of ticked when he told me he'd have to come back up to Boston so soon because I thought we'd have the whole day together, but then I realized that this isn't just my weekend visit time like before. I can actually see him probably tomorrow and Tuesday if I want. Sometimes our time won't be planned perfectly, but that's alright because now there's always more around the corner. It's a nice realization
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