Some people are turned off by yoga. It's not for everyone, but I strongly feel that everyone could learn something from yoga, even if they don't have a regular practice.
Yoga is about relaxing into the moment. It's about connecting the body and mind with the breath. Yoga is about becoming familiar with your strengths and limitations, and embracing them both. Yoga is learning to love who you are.
That's not to say that there aren't times in class that I wish I could dissolve into a small puddle of sweat and become invisible.
I've done inversions and fallen awkwardly into other people. I've tried to transition into backbends and collapsed noisily on the floor. I've embarassed myself several times in class, and I'm usually able to laugh it off.
Do you see where I'm going with this?
Tonight, in yoga class, I broke wind...
No, that's not true. I didn't break wind in yoga class. I really farted.
Loud.
(I'm laughing so hard right now that I am crying just thinking about the whole embarassing scenario.)
Falling over and collapsing, even knocking over a fellow yogini during a partner pose can be funny. Farting in yoga class? EMBARASSING.
Until you think about it later, sitting in front of your blog page. Then, my friends, it is fucking hilarious.
So, I totally ignored it. I didn't smile or even blush. I didn't skip a beat. I figure that's the way people would know it was you.
Or they could just read your blog after class. Whatever works.
In any case, I am never eating cheese before yoga class ever again. Water only, from here on out.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Today's drama is brought to you by the letter "asshat"
So, as it turns out, I didn't lose my iPhone. Someone stole it. It's been five days since the little time suck went missing, and in that time the asshat that now has a new iPhone 3G was on the internet quite a bit and called a local singles line.
I did everything I could besides spending a ton of money to get my phone back. I put an ad up on Craigslist, I sent a text to my phone offering a reward, I even asked nicely and prayed many times to St. Anthony.
At the end of the day, though, you have to chalk up your losses. You have to suck it up. You have to realize that not everyone was raised with the same moral code as you, and they will look at your loss only as their gain.
So, suffice it to say, I'm disappointed in humans right now. It's been a long time since I've had an object stolen from me. The last time was back in 2000, when my car was broken into and my stereo and some clothes were stolen. I was really mad about that for a long time. I got over it, though.
I'm sure I'll get over this, too. Heck, I'm already trying to find my way back to forgiveness. I don't know the asshat that stole my phone (DURING A CHARITY ART AUCTION, NO LESS) and I don't know the asshat's personal circumstances, but I'm trying to forgive said asshat.
It's a process.
I did everything I could besides spending a ton of money to get my phone back. I put an ad up on Craigslist, I sent a text to my phone offering a reward, I even asked nicely and prayed many times to St. Anthony.
At the end of the day, though, you have to chalk up your losses. You have to suck it up. You have to realize that not everyone was raised with the same moral code as you, and they will look at your loss only as their gain.
So, suffice it to say, I'm disappointed in humans right now. It's been a long time since I've had an object stolen from me. The last time was back in 2000, when my car was broken into and my stereo and some clothes were stolen. I was really mad about that for a long time. I got over it, though.
I'm sure I'll get over this, too. Heck, I'm already trying to find my way back to forgiveness. I don't know the asshat that stole my phone (DURING A CHARITY ART AUCTION, NO LESS) and I don't know the asshat's personal circumstances, but I'm trying to forgive said asshat.
It's a process.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
You go, Hillary!
I'm not a fan of Hillary Clinton, but for this reaction, she gets big ups in my book!
Monday, August 10, 2009
Life goes on, or what I really did learn from Slaughterhouse-Five
I'm a long-time fan of Kurt Vonnegut. I'm not big on celebrity deaths, though, (hardly a reaction out of me when John Hughes died) but I did cry about Vonnegut's passing on. He was, and still is, a great inspiration to me. His writing really forces you to reevaluate your priorities, to think about your time here on earth as a very, very temporary existence. He introduced me to radical humanism, environmental stewardship and the many things that are uncertain on this planet.
The biggest thing he gave me, though, was an understanding of the adage, "Life goes on." In his vernacular it looked like this: "So it goes."
At the House of England, we always seem to be concerned about cashflow. This was even before I lost my job to the economic climate. I guess that's what signing a contract for a 30-year mortgage will do to you. In any case, money is tight, we're saving every way we can, and we are trying harder than ever to reform our spending habits.
This is a mighty long intro for what I'm about to say, so I'll just say it: I fucked up. Hardcore.
There is no more impulsive a friend than Christine. I guess that's what having 3 kids and a 30-year mortgage will do to you. On the rare nights that she's able to leave the kids with her husband and have a night out to herself, she tends to do it up big. (For the record, I like to have more sedate outings, with everything in moderation).
We decided to go to an art fundraiser and charity auction at probably the one venue in Dallas that I actually could be considered a regular. We settled into an evening of cheap beer and smiling faces, and cool art, of course. During the course of the evening we did the following:
- ran up bids on art lamps being auctioned
- drank several beers
- started a campaign to end personal space in Dallas (Seriously, everyone expects you to give them at least 18 inches berth when making way through a crowd.)
- buy a desk lamp for $225 (it's for charity?)
- lose my iPhone while paying for said lamp
- get a parking ticket
The night started out well, and it was fun at the beginning, but now I've put our budget in a make-or-break stance, which is really unfortunate because I'm the responsible one in this household. And I also managed to lose a $400 phone. Genius. I'm hoping that practicing karma will help reunite me with my lost object, but I'm not going to get my hopes up.
But, what I did learn from this personal tragedy is that Vonnegut could not be more right. The sun rose on Saturday, Sunday and Today. The birds and squirrels will still be hungry and feast on the suet and seed we put out for them. The sun will be hot, and it will make the leaves on the trees glow in a calm, majestic way. And we will still be here tomorrow even though I overextended our budget and made a whopper of a mistake.
So it goes.
The biggest thing he gave me, though, was an understanding of the adage, "Life goes on." In his vernacular it looked like this: "So it goes."
At the House of England, we always seem to be concerned about cashflow. This was even before I lost my job to the economic climate. I guess that's what signing a contract for a 30-year mortgage will do to you. In any case, money is tight, we're saving every way we can, and we are trying harder than ever to reform our spending habits.
This is a mighty long intro for what I'm about to say, so I'll just say it: I fucked up. Hardcore.
There is no more impulsive a friend than Christine. I guess that's what having 3 kids and a 30-year mortgage will do to you. On the rare nights that she's able to leave the kids with her husband and have a night out to herself, she tends to do it up big. (For the record, I like to have more sedate outings, with everything in moderation).
We decided to go to an art fundraiser and charity auction at probably the one venue in Dallas that I actually could be considered a regular. We settled into an evening of cheap beer and smiling faces, and cool art, of course. During the course of the evening we did the following:
- ran up bids on art lamps being auctioned
- drank several beers
- started a campaign to end personal space in Dallas (Seriously, everyone expects you to give them at least 18 inches berth when making way through a crowd.)
- buy a desk lamp for $225 (it's for charity?)
- lose my iPhone while paying for said lamp
- get a parking ticket
The night started out well, and it was fun at the beginning, but now I've put our budget in a make-or-break stance, which is really unfortunate because I'm the responsible one in this household. And I also managed to lose a $400 phone. Genius. I'm hoping that practicing karma will help reunite me with my lost object, but I'm not going to get my hopes up.
But, what I did learn from this personal tragedy is that Vonnegut could not be more right. The sun rose on Saturday, Sunday and Today. The birds and squirrels will still be hungry and feast on the suet and seed we put out for them. The sun will be hot, and it will make the leaves on the trees glow in a calm, majestic way. And we will still be here tomorrow even though I overextended our budget and made a whopper of a mistake.
So it goes.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Jellyfish: Why unstructured days are both good and bad, but may not always require urine to make it stop hurting.
I've been a bit of an unstructured mess lately.
In an odd paradox, the house has never been cleaner.
Although I used to bitch about getting up and going to work every day like it was some kind of redundant and useless act, I miss it. The deadlines and schedules and phone calls reminded me that daytime passes quickly. I used to have full days, and now I'm doing whatever I can to just fill them.
The truly sad thing is that I used to daydream about having my days to myself, and what I would accomplish, what I would get done, what I would build and make and enjoy. I suppose that kind of free time would be sweeter if the backdrop wasn't painted with the panic of job loss and loss of income.
Every day I think about it, about what I should be doing instead of marinating in worry and panic.
I am lucky, though, that I have a supportive family and husband. Dave keeps reminding me that I'm not alone, and that there are thousands upon thousands of people just like me, trying to make it.
And then I really think about it... If I was dreading 10-hour days and carrying two buckets at my last job, why would I want to do that again? Will things ever be different, or are we all just "human resources"? (I really hate that term.)
I think about that while Fitzgerald or Mr. Orange nuzzle me in my lap while I'm at the desk, writing or applying for jobs at places that are far away from them. And Fitzgerald rests his head in the crook of my arm as my fingers taps the keys, and I think, "That's so sweet."
This is so bittersweet.
In an odd paradox, the house has never been cleaner.
Although I used to bitch about getting up and going to work every day like it was some kind of redundant and useless act, I miss it. The deadlines and schedules and phone calls reminded me that daytime passes quickly. I used to have full days, and now I'm doing whatever I can to just fill them.
The truly sad thing is that I used to daydream about having my days to myself, and what I would accomplish, what I would get done, what I would build and make and enjoy. I suppose that kind of free time would be sweeter if the backdrop wasn't painted with the panic of job loss and loss of income.
Every day I think about it, about what I should be doing instead of marinating in worry and panic.
I am lucky, though, that I have a supportive family and husband. Dave keeps reminding me that I'm not alone, and that there are thousands upon thousands of people just like me, trying to make it.
And then I really think about it... If I was dreading 10-hour days and carrying two buckets at my last job, why would I want to do that again? Will things ever be different, or are we all just "human resources"? (I really hate that term.)
I think about that while Fitzgerald or Mr. Orange nuzzle me in my lap while I'm at the desk, writing or applying for jobs at places that are far away from them. And Fitzgerald rests his head in the crook of my arm as my fingers taps the keys, and I think, "That's so sweet."
This is so bittersweet.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
I have no idea
I have a hard time believing that anything I've dreamt up hasn't been thought of before. It's one of my major obstacles when considering pitching freelance pieces. I might have, what seems to me at least, a great idea, but I won't go anywhere with it because I think to myself, "Surely SoandSo at WhateverMag has been pitched this before. I never think of anything new."
I guess this is a habit I need to break. I've been sitting on an idea for a few months now, but this is the exact reason I haven't taken it anywhere. And for someone who has worked for a newspaper, especially someone who at one time used to accept and reject hundreds of ideas, it is an odd problem.
I suppose it's more of a problem than I realized, especially since it's basically a symptom of self-doubt, which is nothing new to me. I've been trying to kick out it's ugly cousin poor body image for my entire life. I just hope I am able to get rid of self-doubt before it starts adding to poor body image's troll doll collection.
I guess this is a habit I need to break. I've been sitting on an idea for a few months now, but this is the exact reason I haven't taken it anywhere. And for someone who has worked for a newspaper, especially someone who at one time used to accept and reject hundreds of ideas, it is an odd problem.
I suppose it's more of a problem than I realized, especially since it's basically a symptom of self-doubt, which is nothing new to me. I've been trying to kick out it's ugly cousin poor body image for my entire life. I just hope I am able to get rid of self-doubt before it starts adding to poor body image's troll doll collection.
All jumbled up
When a relationship starts everything seems like a milestone. First date, first kiss, first ... ahem ... sleepover. Then everything starts to get smaller and smaller, to where all you have is minutae.
For example, say you've been seeing a guy for two months and you're so proud that the two of you have made it to at least one phone call from each other each day.
That's a milestone.
Two months turn into to years, and in some cases you marry the guy. In other cases you have a knock-down-drag-out-wake-up-the-neighbors fight that ends with one of you moving out of your one-bedroom apartment at 11:30 p.m. on a weeknight.
In the case of the former, you end up talking on the phone a lot in very brief conversations, not unlike a pilot checking in with a controller.
When relationships are still fresh, they're more like "conversationships," meaning that when you talk to one another during the day you're still finding out new stuff. When relationships get down the road a bit it almost seems like you're talking in code.
New relationship:
"Hey sweetie! Thought I'd call and see what you're doing before your lunch break."
"Awww! That's so sweet! I'm finishing up a TPS Report before I head over to Schotzky's with my cubiclemate."
"That sounds so fascinating! Well, I hope your day shapes up. Blah, blah, blah. I love you!"
"I love you, too!"
Down-the-road relationship:
"Hey babe, what's up?"
"'Bout to have lunch, you?"
"Nothing, applying for jobs."
"Sounds great. Gotta go. OKIloveyoubye."
"OKIloveyoubye."
For example, say you've been seeing a guy for two months and you're so proud that the two of you have made it to at least one phone call from each other each day.
That's a milestone.
Two months turn into to years, and in some cases you marry the guy. In other cases you have a knock-down-drag-out-wake-up-the-neighbors fight that ends with one of you moving out of your one-bedroom apartment at 11:30 p.m. on a weeknight.
In the case of the former, you end up talking on the phone a lot in very brief conversations, not unlike a pilot checking in with a controller.
When relationships are still fresh, they're more like "conversationships," meaning that when you talk to one another during the day you're still finding out new stuff. When relationships get down the road a bit it almost seems like you're talking in code.
New relationship:
"Hey sweetie! Thought I'd call and see what you're doing before your lunch break."
"Awww! That's so sweet! I'm finishing up a TPS Report before I head over to Schotzky's with my cubiclemate."
"That sounds so fascinating! Well, I hope your day shapes up. Blah, blah, blah. I love you!"
"I love you, too!"
Down-the-road relationship:
"Hey babe, what's up?"
"'Bout to have lunch, you?"
"Nothing, applying for jobs."
"Sounds great. Gotta go. OKIloveyoubye."
"OKIloveyoubye."
Monday, August 03, 2009
Speed dial
Sometimes you have a problem that you don't know how to deal with. Often you know someone who can help you or has intimate knowledge of your desperate situation. Sometimes YouTube can help. Other times you feel like you're on your own.
Many times, when it comes to issues I can't fix or don't know where to start, I can find the answer in my speed dial list:
1) Mom: Recipes and gardening how-to's, and she can explain to me how husbands work (she's been married to one for 39 years, so she gets it). Also, she's my best friend and we can often bitch about stuff to each other.
2) Dad: Air Conditioning problems and golf or baseball and cars. Just yesterday I had to summon his awesome A/C power to figure out why condensation from our A/C unit was backing up into our closet. The man is a genius.
3) Sara: An ear for random bitching, also helps that she is usually the best at talking me out of bad ideas, like buying an outfit retail. She is a yarn hoarding enabler and also big on skincare and makeup questions.
4) Kara: If I have a problem with my hair I don't talk to anyone before I call Kara. Also really good at listening to me bitch about stuff.
5) Dave: Is on speed dial because I like calling him. We usually talk about random crap and how each other's day has been. He's good to talk to if I need a mood lifter and it's too early to mix a mojito.
Many times, when it comes to issues I can't fix or don't know where to start, I can find the answer in my speed dial list:
1) Mom: Recipes and gardening how-to's, and she can explain to me how husbands work (she's been married to one for 39 years, so she gets it). Also, she's my best friend and we can often bitch about stuff to each other.
2) Dad: Air Conditioning problems and golf or baseball and cars. Just yesterday I had to summon his awesome A/C power to figure out why condensation from our A/C unit was backing up into our closet. The man is a genius.
3) Sara: An ear for random bitching, also helps that she is usually the best at talking me out of bad ideas, like buying an outfit retail. She is a yarn hoarding enabler and also big on skincare and makeup questions.
4) Kara: If I have a problem with my hair I don't talk to anyone before I call Kara. Also really good at listening to me bitch about stuff.
5) Dave: Is on speed dial because I like calling him. We usually talk about random crap and how each other's day has been. He's good to talk to if I need a mood lifter and it's too early to mix a mojito.
Friday, July 31, 2009
License to ill, or why I've been exhausted for five days without doing anything.
My niece turned one on the 29th. It's a big deal to my family, which is why we had a birthday blowout at my sister's house on th 26th, last Sunday. It was a huge affair and all the family attended and then some. There was booze, kiddie pools and handknitted gifts. It was really great!
But let's backtrack. Dave and I left Dallas on Thursday, leaving the House of England in the able hands of our house-sitter, Steve. Our first stop was College Station. That's right, Aggieland. Dave and I both graduated from Texas A&M, albeit ten years apart, and we rarely take trips to visit our old college haunts. How rarely, you ask? This was my first trip back to college station after moving to Dallas, or four years and a month. Dave has been back a couple of times before this most recent trip.
Not much has changed about College Station. There is still an abundance of bad drivers and silly haircuts (most notably the Corps of Cadets members). There's always a new building going up on campus it seems, usually in place of a parking lot. If I thought it was hard to find a parking spot four years ago, I bet it's hell now.
Anyway, we started at one of our favorite bars on Northgate: Duddley's Draw. It's right next to the Dixie Chicken and Fitzwilly's, and also super close to the Dry Bean Saloon. Basically, Northgate is the place to party on Thursday through Sunday. Or anyday. The beer is still relatively cheap and cold, which is good because College Station had been unseasonably hot and dry.
We then had dinner at one of my old friend's house. It was great, and I really appreciate her hospitality (and her puppies!). We then stayed the night at another friend's house.
Some time during that evening, though, I managed to skin my knee into a terrible pulp and twist my left ankle. Good job.
The next morning we had migas and fresh tortillas and coffe at Los Nortenos in downtown Bryan. Then it was off to Conroe. I used to make this drive, from College Station to Conroe, all the time. I didn't realize how beautiful the scenery is on the two-lane Highway 105, just South of College Station via Highway 6. It's absolutely serene and pastoral. I was having a hard time not imagining myself buying up one of the picturesque ranchettes and settling down to a simpler life.
We made it to Conroe to drop our stuff off at my sister's place and then head to Downtown Houston for an Astros game. The 'stros perfectly pummeled the Mets. It was beautiful!
We then went over to my sister's place and stayed the night. Not much happened on Saturday except for some shopping. Blah, blah, blah. I did get to hang out with my niece plenty. She's so freaking adorable.
Sunday was the party. Check out the photo set here.
That night I finished my stealth knitting and put the socks on makeshift blockers so that my sister could wrap them up and take them to Scotland for her mother in law. I can't wait to get a photo of them on her!
But on Monday I woke up with a terrible sore throat. It was so dry and painful that I took some Tylenol PM so that I could sleep through the drive home. I've been battling this funk for five days now, and I finally feel like I'm winning. From what I can tell it's been going around, which speaks volumes of it's crappiness.
So, here we are, it's Friday, and I'm still tired, but hey, last weekend was worth it.
The End.
But let's backtrack. Dave and I left Dallas on Thursday, leaving the House of England in the able hands of our house-sitter, Steve. Our first stop was College Station. That's right, Aggieland. Dave and I both graduated from Texas A&M, albeit ten years apart, and we rarely take trips to visit our old college haunts. How rarely, you ask? This was my first trip back to college station after moving to Dallas, or four years and a month. Dave has been back a couple of times before this most recent trip.
Not much has changed about College Station. There is still an abundance of bad drivers and silly haircuts (most notably the Corps of Cadets members). There's always a new building going up on campus it seems, usually in place of a parking lot. If I thought it was hard to find a parking spot four years ago, I bet it's hell now.
Anyway, we started at one of our favorite bars on Northgate: Duddley's Draw. It's right next to the Dixie Chicken and Fitzwilly's, and also super close to the Dry Bean Saloon. Basically, Northgate is the place to party on Thursday through Sunday. Or anyday. The beer is still relatively cheap and cold, which is good because College Station had been unseasonably hot and dry.
We then had dinner at one of my old friend's house. It was great, and I really appreciate her hospitality (and her puppies!). We then stayed the night at another friend's house.
Some time during that evening, though, I managed to skin my knee into a terrible pulp and twist my left ankle. Good job.
The next morning we had migas and fresh tortillas and coffe at Los Nortenos in downtown Bryan. Then it was off to Conroe. I used to make this drive, from College Station to Conroe, all the time. I didn't realize how beautiful the scenery is on the two-lane Highway 105, just South of College Station via Highway 6. It's absolutely serene and pastoral. I was having a hard time not imagining myself buying up one of the picturesque ranchettes and settling down to a simpler life.
We made it to Conroe to drop our stuff off at my sister's place and then head to Downtown Houston for an Astros game. The 'stros perfectly pummeled the Mets. It was beautiful!
We then went over to my sister's place and stayed the night. Not much happened on Saturday except for some shopping. Blah, blah, blah. I did get to hang out with my niece plenty. She's so freaking adorable.
Sunday was the party. Check out the photo set here.
That night I finished my stealth knitting and put the socks on makeshift blockers so that my sister could wrap them up and take them to Scotland for her mother in law. I can't wait to get a photo of them on her!
But on Monday I woke up with a terrible sore throat. It was so dry and painful that I took some Tylenol PM so that I could sleep through the drive home. I've been battling this funk for five days now, and I finally feel like I'm winning. From what I can tell it's been going around, which speaks volumes of it's crappiness.
So, here we are, it's Friday, and I'm still tired, but hey, last weekend was worth it.
The End.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Life, flashing before your eyes.
I love a good baseball game. Especially one in which you root for the underdog and the underdog gives the mighty opponent a thrashing within an inch of your memory. We went to The Ballpark in Arlington last night and watched Your Texas Rangers beat the ever-loving snot out of the Boston Red Sox, not to mention the fact that the starting pitcher for the Sox was none other than Josh Beckett, the Savior of Spring, Texas. I watched him pitch in high school. He is greased lightening.
I like to knit during the first several innings of a night game. We usually have sandwiches, I knit and digest and then when it gets too dark or difficult to pass stitches from one needle to the next, I put it down, grab a beverage and root with real gusto. Makes being at the ballpark with my love a bit sweeter.
So, we were pretty pumped headed home last night. A great win against the BoSox will do that to you. Since I-30 takes you straight from our corner of East Dallas to Arlington, we stick with the Interstate for the entire trip. We were almost home last night, just past downtown Dallas on I-30, when a semi (tractor-trailer or 18-wheeler, for those of a different vernacular) decided that we didn't exist and almost took off the front end of Honda Solo as it made it's way from right to left into our lane.
Never before had I been so genuinely afraid for my life. I screamed, grabbed the "Oh Shit!" handle that usually clings to the headliner of the car, and braced myself for impact. Dave hit the brakes and laid on the horn, the truck swerved and we lived.
The whole thing made me realize that this life could be over in an instant. Our lives could end because of a careless semi driver with the license X01-004 decided that he could squeeze into our lane despite the fact that doing so would have killed us. And I can't reconcile that. It makes me angry and it makes me feel helpless at the same time.
But then again, one of the most beautiful things about life is the unpredictable. The things that you cannot control often end up showing you scenes from a reality with which you might otherwise never meet.
Here's hoping we all live through it.
I like to knit during the first several innings of a night game. We usually have sandwiches, I knit and digest and then when it gets too dark or difficult to pass stitches from one needle to the next, I put it down, grab a beverage and root with real gusto. Makes being at the ballpark with my love a bit sweeter.
So, we were pretty pumped headed home last night. A great win against the BoSox will do that to you. Since I-30 takes you straight from our corner of East Dallas to Arlington, we stick with the Interstate for the entire trip. We were almost home last night, just past downtown Dallas on I-30, when a semi (tractor-trailer or 18-wheeler, for those of a different vernacular) decided that we didn't exist and almost took off the front end of Honda Solo as it made it's way from right to left into our lane.
Never before had I been so genuinely afraid for my life. I screamed, grabbed the "Oh Shit!" handle that usually clings to the headliner of the car, and braced myself for impact. Dave hit the brakes and laid on the horn, the truck swerved and we lived.
The whole thing made me realize that this life could be over in an instant. Our lives could end because of a careless semi driver with the license X01-004 decided that he could squeeze into our lane despite the fact that doing so would have killed us. And I can't reconcile that. It makes me angry and it makes me feel helpless at the same time.
But then again, one of the most beautiful things about life is the unpredictable. The things that you cannot control often end up showing you scenes from a reality with which you might otherwise never meet.
Here's hoping we all live through it.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Semantics. Or girls do not poop or sweat: they eliminate and perspire.
When Dave and I moved in together he was still on the fence when it came to whether or not girls (and by association, women, including the woman he was moving in with, meaning me) had bowel movements.
Just recently have we both become comfortable with the topic enough to discuss them openly. We are coming up on our 3-year anniversary.
My family is the opposite of Dave's in many ways. Dave's family doesn't openly drink alcohol, no one smokes, they do not cuss or take the Lord's name in vain and they do not talk about bodily functions or sex. Of course, my family does all of these, mostly in moderation but often in excess.
And, just to clarify, I come from a family with a predominance of women. We talk about shit. Literally. And often.
This, until recently, was a taboo with Dave. It still makes him uncomfortable when the talk moves to bowel-related issues and why eating plenty of fiber is important among my family and relations.
I, however, grew up in a family where a good fart joke was almost guaranteed to make my oldest sister tinkle in her pants and where a decent bowel movement was celebrated by loud exclamations and wild gestures.
I cannot help but giggle when I imagine having these discussions with Dave's family.
Just recently have we both become comfortable with the topic enough to discuss them openly. We are coming up on our 3-year anniversary.
My family is the opposite of Dave's in many ways. Dave's family doesn't openly drink alcohol, no one smokes, they do not cuss or take the Lord's name in vain and they do not talk about bodily functions or sex. Of course, my family does all of these, mostly in moderation but often in excess.
And, just to clarify, I come from a family with a predominance of women. We talk about shit. Literally. And often.
This, until recently, was a taboo with Dave. It still makes him uncomfortable when the talk moves to bowel-related issues and why eating plenty of fiber is important among my family and relations.
I, however, grew up in a family where a good fart joke was almost guaranteed to make my oldest sister tinkle in her pants and where a decent bowel movement was celebrated by loud exclamations and wild gestures.
I cannot help but giggle when I imagine having these discussions with Dave's family.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Three months, eight pounds
When I was met with the prospect of having my days completely open and to myself for a while, otherwise known as unemployment, I figured that keeping my old routine would keep me from going stir crazy. Also, it would keep me on track. Also, it would keep my waistline on track.
Old routine:
Go to work at 9 a.m. or so, answer phones and edit and blog until 5:30 some days, but usually until about 6 p.m. Head to the gym for cardio and yoga on Monday through Thursday. Friday I'd bust a move home to get liquored up ASAP. Cook dinner, shower, bed.
New routine:
Wake up at 9 a.m. or so, check e-mail, feed chickens, water plants, have coffee and maybe breakfast but usually juice because, hey, who wants to dirty more dishes? Read blogs, dick around on facebook and twitter. Once completely bored and desperate for amusement, check job listings. Apply when necessary. Eat lunch, watch some TV and wait for the husband to come home. Do chores, knit.
Notice how the gym is absent from the new routine?
I didn't either, at first. Now that all of my pants fit a little tight, I'm beginning to take stock.
So, I figured I'd start out slow, maybe do a few exercise videos at home in between meals and get back to doing my regular cardio/yoga routine. I considered going on walks during the day here, but since it's hotter than the surface of the sun in Dallas right now, I think I'll pass. The high is 104F today with a heat index of 115F. Um. Screw that.
Also, I suppose I need to lay off the ice cream for a while. I've been using Chocolate Almond Fudge as my preferred anti-depressant lately. I think I'm better off switching to post-workout endorphins.
Old routine:
Go to work at 9 a.m. or so, answer phones and edit and blog until 5:30 some days, but usually until about 6 p.m. Head to the gym for cardio and yoga on Monday through Thursday. Friday I'd bust a move home to get liquored up ASAP. Cook dinner, shower, bed.
New routine:
Wake up at 9 a.m. or so, check e-mail, feed chickens, water plants, have coffee and maybe breakfast but usually juice because, hey, who wants to dirty more dishes? Read blogs, dick around on facebook and twitter. Once completely bored and desperate for amusement, check job listings. Apply when necessary. Eat lunch, watch some TV and wait for the husband to come home. Do chores, knit.
Notice how the gym is absent from the new routine?
I didn't either, at first. Now that all of my pants fit a little tight, I'm beginning to take stock.
So, I figured I'd start out slow, maybe do a few exercise videos at home in between meals and get back to doing my regular cardio/yoga routine. I considered going on walks during the day here, but since it's hotter than the surface of the sun in Dallas right now, I think I'll pass. The high is 104F today with a heat index of 115F. Um. Screw that.
Also, I suppose I need to lay off the ice cream for a while. I've been using Chocolate Almond Fudge as my preferred anti-depressant lately. I think I'm better off switching to post-workout endorphins.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thirty-minute whirlwind
I just got off the phone from my first-ever phone interview. Was it bizarre? A little. I think phone interviews are a lot like that first call after making a match on an internet dating site. You both know a little bit about the other and small talk comes easy because you don't know too much, but it's awkward. You don't know that person's timing, and you can't tell when they're pausing or when they're ready for you to talk.
In all, I think it went pretty well. Here's hoping I get the in-person interview. There were almost 100 candidates for this job, and I made it through the first couple of rounds. I'll know in a couple of weeks if I make it to the next.
So, like I said, we got a new chicken coop. I'm pretty excited about it, and I'm really excited about our future chickens, but the coop is pretty much just a frame and a roof right now. We still need to cut a trap door in the flooring so that the gals can go into the run. We also need to fit it with doors, a ladder for the chickens, nest boxes, roosts, insulation and siding. It's got a great roof though. And I think I'm going to keep the corrugated tin siding that's on it currently. It has a pretty wicked cool patina on it.
I'm also doing a bit of stealth knitting right now. It's for a certain relation that lives abroad, and I'm pretty excited about it.
Also, I went mattress shopping last night, and I am so freaking excited, because we will have a new mattress delivered TONIGHT. OMG. Most people my age are excited about new clothes or vacations, I'm excited about getting a good night's sleep for once. This sucker is a pretty swanky luxury pillowtop. My only concern is that I won't want to share it with Dave. And that our comfy sheets won't fit over it because this sucker is THICK!!!
It's Friday, and I'm sipping coffee and cruising job listings, and I hope you guys have fun weekends ahead of you. I'll be knitting and comfortably sleeping in! Oh, and delivering manicotti to friends with a new baby!
In all, I think it went pretty well. Here's hoping I get the in-person interview. There were almost 100 candidates for this job, and I made it through the first couple of rounds. I'll know in a couple of weeks if I make it to the next.
So, like I said, we got a new chicken coop. I'm pretty excited about it, and I'm really excited about our future chickens, but the coop is pretty much just a frame and a roof right now. We still need to cut a trap door in the flooring so that the gals can go into the run. We also need to fit it with doors, a ladder for the chickens, nest boxes, roosts, insulation and siding. It's got a great roof though. And I think I'm going to keep the corrugated tin siding that's on it currently. It has a pretty wicked cool patina on it.
I'm also doing a bit of stealth knitting right now. It's for a certain relation that lives abroad, and I'm pretty excited about it.
Also, I went mattress shopping last night, and I am so freaking excited, because we will have a new mattress delivered TONIGHT. OMG. Most people my age are excited about new clothes or vacations, I'm excited about getting a good night's sleep for once. This sucker is a pretty swanky luxury pillowtop. My only concern is that I won't want to share it with Dave. And that our comfy sheets won't fit over it because this sucker is THICK!!!
It's Friday, and I'm sipping coffee and cruising job listings, and I hope you guys have fun weekends ahead of you. I'll be knitting and comfortably sleeping in! Oh, and delivering manicotti to friends with a new baby!
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Plenty of time to ponder
I was talking to my mom last night about a bank screw-up that Dave and I had suffered through recently, and after my angry tirade my mother said, "Well, at least you have plenty of time on your hands to sort it all out, right?"
Yes. And no.
A lot of the time I've been unemployed has been spent on the hobbies and interests I've put aside to focus on my job at the newspaper. Most of my time is spent on writing (not here, obviously) and tweaking my resume and portfolio, and generally applying for positions. The rest is housework.
Although I can list these things and prove that every day that has passed since losing my job has been a full day, it seems like everyone just assumes that I'm sitting around in my husband's boxers and an oversized T-shirt, sipping coffee and munching on things, watching movies and generally being a slob.
OK, maybe that happened the first few days of unemployment, but I've been better about the depression thing.
It's been three months, as of today, that I have been unemployed.
And I can't wait to have a job again.
A lot of folks that were laid off with me are looking into retraining, and I think that's great. In fact, like I mentioned in this post, I have given it some serious thought. But I feel like writing and outreach and communications is my calling, and I hope to do it for an organization that makes me as excited about going to work everyday as working for The Dallas Morning News did. I knew that every day was going to be unique and challenging, and I hate that it ended.
So, I have a phone interview on Friday, and I'm really excited since this has pretty much been the only nibble I've had since casting my lure about two and a half months ago. Not only that, but it's an opportunity to work for an organization that I really believe in. So, if you wouldn't mind, I could use a few good vibes sent my way at 9 a.m. on Friday morning, I'd appreciate it.
In other news, we should be getting a new chicken coop delivered this afternoon. I am so thrilled! I've already started thinking about what new chickens we'd get. Probably some bantams, since the actual nesting area is rather small. The top five I have in mind:
From top to bottom: Splash Frizzle Cochin, Buff Bantam Silkies, Bantam Silver Laced Wyandotte, Buff Laced Polish, Bantam Buff Orpington. All photos are from MyPetChicken.
Yes. And no.
A lot of the time I've been unemployed has been spent on the hobbies and interests I've put aside to focus on my job at the newspaper. Most of my time is spent on writing (not here, obviously) and tweaking my resume and portfolio, and generally applying for positions. The rest is housework.
Although I can list these things and prove that every day that has passed since losing my job has been a full day, it seems like everyone just assumes that I'm sitting around in my husband's boxers and an oversized T-shirt, sipping coffee and munching on things, watching movies and generally being a slob.
OK, maybe that happened the first few days of unemployment, but I've been better about the depression thing.
It's been three months, as of today, that I have been unemployed.
And I can't wait to have a job again.
A lot of folks that were laid off with me are looking into retraining, and I think that's great. In fact, like I mentioned in this post, I have given it some serious thought. But I feel like writing and outreach and communications is my calling, and I hope to do it for an organization that makes me as excited about going to work everyday as working for The Dallas Morning News did. I knew that every day was going to be unique and challenging, and I hate that it ended.
So, I have a phone interview on Friday, and I'm really excited since this has pretty much been the only nibble I've had since casting my lure about two and a half months ago. Not only that, but it's an opportunity to work for an organization that I really believe in. So, if you wouldn't mind, I could use a few good vibes sent my way at 9 a.m. on Friday morning, I'd appreciate it.
In other news, we should be getting a new chicken coop delivered this afternoon. I am so thrilled! I've already started thinking about what new chickens we'd get. Probably some bantams, since the actual nesting area is rather small. The top five I have in mind:
From top to bottom: Splash Frizzle Cochin, Buff Bantam Silkies, Bantam Silver Laced Wyandotte, Buff Laced Polish, Bantam Buff Orpington. All photos are from MyPetChicken.
Friday, June 26, 2009
The Art of Applying Yourself
Top 5 things not to do in your cover letter when applying for a job:
5. Mention the hospital bills you have to pay after your recent sexual reassignment surgery.
4. Start every sentence with "I."
3. Talk about how you really don't need a job that bad, but you're applying anyway, as if it was a legitimate reverse psychology tactic.
2. Misspell something or confuse "your" and "you're" while purporting to be an editor.
1. Forget to include the attached resume, only to send a second e-mail saying "Oops! I forgot to attach my resume!" That's foreshadowing a crappy employee.
5. Mention the hospital bills you have to pay after your recent sexual reassignment surgery.
4. Start every sentence with "I."
3. Talk about how you really don't need a job that bad, but you're applying anyway, as if it was a legitimate reverse psychology tactic.
2. Misspell something or confuse "your" and "you're" while purporting to be an editor.
1. Forget to include the attached resume, only to send a second e-mail saying "Oops! I forgot to attach my resume!" That's foreshadowing a crappy employee.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Quality Time
I don't see much of my family in the Houston area. That's what they'd have you believe, at least.
I am probably going to make more trips out there to see them, mostly because I discovered that my neice, Little T, is growing like a weed and I'm missing it. She's so fun to be around now. She'll be walking at any moment. She's babbling constantly and she's such a happy little girl.
So, I got to spend some quality time with her and the folks that care for her on a regular basis. I even got some time with my camera in, and some time with my fishing rod.
Here are some photos just to document. Notice the lack of baby in the pictures. When I was with my neice I actually spent time with her instead of spending time in the same room but behind my camera.
Favorites:
Limbs from an evergreen next to the lake dip their fingers into the water to cool off on a blistering day.
A view to one of the small islands in the lake at my parent's house. The bank is mostly delineated by a narrow stand of grass, then a greenbelt and then the steep trunks of the endless pines surround.
This stump spoke to me. It was so humble, a host of a small poison ivy vine that chose to circle about the bottom. It seemed old enough to posture as a miniature face of a canyon or something equally ancient.
The Houston area is surrounded by bayous, rivers and lakes, and around those lakes you'll find cattails, which are so fascinating.
There are signs constantly reminding you that where you live is surrounded by a delicate ecosystem. A concrete plant moved in next door to my parents' neighborhood. Its runoff has decimated an old stand of saw palmettos that kept the bogs clean and saturated. Without the palmetto, algae and duckweed have taken over. Without cover, beavers come in and take down trees and ruin the once-primordial landscape.
It just doesn't look right without the underbrush...
My dad. He doesn't look like a guy that's been torn apart and put back together more than Humpty Dumpty. He's the reason people say "Live fast and die young." Only he lived fast and long enough to see that the end of your thirties isn't the end of the road.
If my brother would have asked what I wanted in another sister I would have told him to marry a girl like Megan. Thank goodness he did. Even though he would have never asked in the first place.
To top it off, almost no knitting got done during the vacation, and I totally spaced on getting pictures of my sister Kara in the hat I made for her. She did make me some totally boss jewelry, and I'll put some pictures up of it when I can.
I am probably going to make more trips out there to see them, mostly because I discovered that my neice, Little T, is growing like a weed and I'm missing it. She's so fun to be around now. She'll be walking at any moment. She's babbling constantly and she's such a happy little girl.
So, I got to spend some quality time with her and the folks that care for her on a regular basis. I even got some time with my camera in, and some time with my fishing rod.
Here are some photos just to document. Notice the lack of baby in the pictures. When I was with my neice I actually spent time with her instead of spending time in the same room but behind my camera.
Favorites:
Limbs from an evergreen next to the lake dip their fingers into the water to cool off on a blistering day.
A view to one of the small islands in the lake at my parent's house. The bank is mostly delineated by a narrow stand of grass, then a greenbelt and then the steep trunks of the endless pines surround.
This stump spoke to me. It was so humble, a host of a small poison ivy vine that chose to circle about the bottom. It seemed old enough to posture as a miniature face of a canyon or something equally ancient.
The Houston area is surrounded by bayous, rivers and lakes, and around those lakes you'll find cattails, which are so fascinating.
There are signs constantly reminding you that where you live is surrounded by a delicate ecosystem. A concrete plant moved in next door to my parents' neighborhood. Its runoff has decimated an old stand of saw palmettos that kept the bogs clean and saturated. Without the palmetto, algae and duckweed have taken over. Without cover, beavers come in and take down trees and ruin the once-primordial landscape.
It just doesn't look right without the underbrush...
My dad. He doesn't look like a guy that's been torn apart and put back together more than Humpty Dumpty. He's the reason people say "Live fast and die young." Only he lived fast and long enough to see that the end of your thirties isn't the end of the road.
If my brother would have asked what I wanted in another sister I would have told him to marry a girl like Megan. Thank goodness he did. Even though he would have never asked in the first place.
To top it off, almost no knitting got done during the vacation, and I totally spaced on getting pictures of my sister Kara in the hat I made for her. She did make me some totally boss jewelry, and I'll put some pictures up of it when I can.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Too bad you can't knit while driving
Dave and I are no strangers to time in the car. We did drive (stupidly, might I add) to Key West and back. I am usually lucky to be in the passenger seat. While this means that I relinquish control of the radio for a fair amount of the trip, it also means that I may knit while we traverse the more boring parts of the journey.
I'm making my way down to Houston later today. It's a TREMENDOUSLY BORING DRIVE. Really boring. So boring that I would prefer to hire out the driving so that I can instead knit while we make our way to the swampy air of the Bayou City.
Regardless, you shouldn't feel left out in the cold just because I'm gone for a while. You see that little box to your right? The one that says "Road Bumps"? That's my twitter feed. Feel free to follow it and get your fix of Miss Dallas while I'm away from my desk.
Also, go leave some love for berg with fries and switching over to AM. It must be hard to be sans wife for the weekend.
Back soon!
I'm making my way down to Houston later today. It's a TREMENDOUSLY BORING DRIVE. Really boring. So boring that I would prefer to hire out the driving so that I can instead knit while we make our way to the swampy air of the Bayou City.
Regardless, you shouldn't feel left out in the cold just because I'm gone for a while. You see that little box to your right? The one that says "Road Bumps"? That's my twitter feed. Feel free to follow it and get your fix of Miss Dallas while I'm away from my desk.
Also, go leave some love for berg with fries and switching over to AM. It must be hard to be sans wife for the weekend.
Back soon!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Getting a little dangerous
So, after talking to a neighbor as I was on my way home from yoga last night, I realized that on July 7 it will be three months that I have been without a steady job. The few freelance gigs I had on the outset really helped keep my chin up. They also helped me keep a nice schedule. They got me out of the house. They gave me a real sense that I could transition. But, they're gone now.
And I am left without work. Without a job. Without a reason to get up in the morning other than laundry and dishes, which is not a reason to get up in the morning but a reason to avoid getting up in the morning.
As a condition of collecting unemployment, you have to look for work. I totally get that. I am more than willing to do at least 5 work searches every week. Hell, at this point I've applied to almost 30 jobs and done about 90 searches. I'm good at looking for a job. I think the job, though, is piss-poor about finding me.
After applying to more than my fair share of job openings, I have yet to get a call. No phone interviews. No in-person interviews. Nothing.
So, my confidence is getting a little shaky. I'm getting a little tired of the passive rejection. And I'm thinking of changing careers.
This is probably a big shocker to anyone that knows me. They know me as a writer. They know that ever since I learned to write that I found it irresistible. I love words. I love reading them and I love editing, and I am pretty sure that I will find it very hard to pick up another profession because I love this one so much.
Trouble is, the newspaper industry has left a lot of casualties in its wake, and there are more than too many unemployed editors and writers that have gobs more experience than me vying for the same positions. My meager resume doesn't stand a chance against a veteran assignment editor.
So, here's the mental list I've been mulling.
Top 5 careers I might consider retraining for:
5) Welder and fabricator. If you've seen flashdance, you know that a chick welding is hot.
4) Portrait photographer. I did this semi-professionally in college. I hated it. It's an option, though.
3) Go back to school for a master's degree. I'd likely try for something in natural resources, something related to public policy.
2) Write a book. (Pshaw...)
1) Open my own creperie.
Suggestions? Anything I should consider that I left out?
And I am left without work. Without a job. Without a reason to get up in the morning other than laundry and dishes, which is not a reason to get up in the morning but a reason to avoid getting up in the morning.
As a condition of collecting unemployment, you have to look for work. I totally get that. I am more than willing to do at least 5 work searches every week. Hell, at this point I've applied to almost 30 jobs and done about 90 searches. I'm good at looking for a job. I think the job, though, is piss-poor about finding me.
After applying to more than my fair share of job openings, I have yet to get a call. No phone interviews. No in-person interviews. Nothing.
So, my confidence is getting a little shaky. I'm getting a little tired of the passive rejection. And I'm thinking of changing careers.
This is probably a big shocker to anyone that knows me. They know me as a writer. They know that ever since I learned to write that I found it irresistible. I love words. I love reading them and I love editing, and I am pretty sure that I will find it very hard to pick up another profession because I love this one so much.
Trouble is, the newspaper industry has left a lot of casualties in its wake, and there are more than too many unemployed editors and writers that have gobs more experience than me vying for the same positions. My meager resume doesn't stand a chance against a veteran assignment editor.
So, here's the mental list I've been mulling.
Top 5 careers I might consider retraining for:
5) Welder and fabricator. If you've seen flashdance, you know that a chick welding is hot.
4) Portrait photographer. I did this semi-professionally in college. I hated it. It's an option, though.
3) Go back to school for a master's degree. I'd likely try for something in natural resources, something related to public policy.
2) Write a book. (Pshaw...)
1) Open my own creperie.
Suggestions? Anything I should consider that I left out?
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Beers with people with babies
So, a lot of the couples that Dave and I hang out with are either pregnant or have kids. When one of our friends' spawn have a birthday you just go, regardless of whether or not you have your own spawn to tote to the party.
Last weekend we went to Dave's close friend's daughter's third birthday party. It was at his his friend's father's place out in Garland. There was a pool. There was beer. I brought my camera. I regret not getting a picture of a half naked Barbie standing in a cake. I didn't even know that they still made those Barbie cakes. I always considered them embarassing for Barbie. You are basically undressing her and eating her clothes. Classy.
Some of my favorites:
Here we have the birthday girl, Leah. I am told she is a ham in front of a camera. It is true. She is coy and cute right on cue!
For some reason, I totally get a "movie star" vibe from Leah here. Her grandfather, Harold, is trying to ask her a question, and she has this sort of upturned nose toward him, sunglasses obscuring her face, as if to wonder how he dared address her in public. What a diva.
Click to go to the full sized one, and you can see the blue icing from the Barbie cake still staining her mouth. So cute!
Leah and her mom, Shelley. Shelley is the wonderful gal that introduced me to my dear husband, Dave.
What a catch, right?
Here's Leah with her dad, Mike. Mike's nickname is "Chicken." Dave and Mike were good friends growing up. Dave is still growing up (See previous picture).
Here's Janice. She is the wrangler of three very high-energy yet unbelievably cute girls.
And here's Leah, about to go down the inflatable slide. I love that little "OMG!" face in the background!
"Whoa! This is really high! You better be at the bottom to catch me!"
"Maybe it's just too high. I'm going to scoot down a little and then I'll slide. OK?"
"Look, Dad. It's just scary. Do I have to let go of the slide?"
"WEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Last weekend we went to Dave's close friend's daughter's third birthday party. It was at his his friend's father's place out in Garland. There was a pool. There was beer. I brought my camera. I regret not getting a picture of a half naked Barbie standing in a cake. I didn't even know that they still made those Barbie cakes. I always considered them embarassing for Barbie. You are basically undressing her and eating her clothes. Classy.
Some of my favorites:
Here we have the birthday girl, Leah. I am told she is a ham in front of a camera. It is true. She is coy and cute right on cue!
For some reason, I totally get a "movie star" vibe from Leah here. Her grandfather, Harold, is trying to ask her a question, and she has this sort of upturned nose toward him, sunglasses obscuring her face, as if to wonder how he dared address her in public. What a diva.
Click to go to the full sized one, and you can see the blue icing from the Barbie cake still staining her mouth. So cute!
Leah and her mom, Shelley. Shelley is the wonderful gal that introduced me to my dear husband, Dave.
What a catch, right?
Here's Leah with her dad, Mike. Mike's nickname is "Chicken." Dave and Mike were good friends growing up. Dave is still growing up (See previous picture).
Here's Janice. She is the wrangler of three very high-energy yet unbelievably cute girls.
And here's Leah, about to go down the inflatable slide. I love that little "OMG!" face in the background!
"Whoa! This is really high! You better be at the bottom to catch me!"
"Maybe it's just too high. I'm going to scoot down a little and then I'll slide. OK?"
"Look, Dad. It's just scary. Do I have to let go of the slide?"
"WEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
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