Thursday, April 30, 2009
And it has been a lot of hours and he has not written back.
So I think that that's a pretty clear answer that he is "just not that into me." I'd like to shrug it off...and I'd like to say that it doesn't bother me at all. But then I remember that I'm human and it's okay to be bummed that a totally cute guy who's smart and seems to have his crap together doesn't like me back. For the record, I have read "He's Just Not That Into Me" and yes, I agree with his points- it makes me feel a tad better because it makes logical sense. GAH! Stupid logic!
Besides, I don't want a guy that has a great job...I mean, what would I do with all of those piles of money? They'd clutter up my place for sure...and that means more dusting. Not for me, but for the maid we'd have to hire.
In all seriousness, I think I'm taking this a tad harder because in a few days I will be one more year older. And even though I've done a lot in this year to be proud of, ending it with rejection wouldn't be my first choice.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Personally, I had a great time. The guy was cute, knowledgeable, polite, and just an all around great guy. We were approached by a guy in an eye patch for money, which was strange, but hey - it makes for a great first date. :)
Here's where I need your help. The guy is really sweet and very genuine. He's already said or written that he's one of those nice guys...
In emails he's said that he found me beautiful that he "couldn't wait" to hear from me...you know, all the great stuff we want to hear. When I talked to him on the phone, I came to realize that he is quite a bit more...reserved. He's genuine and polite, he's just not OUT there like me. Personally, I like that. I tend to look for guys that are calmer than me because if that doesn't happen, it's can be like to Jack Russel Terriers together. And if you're not a dog person, just know that that's not a good thing. Anyway, on the phone, he still was interested, but very calm about it.
So last night, at no point was he complimentary nor was he at any point uncomplimentary. He was a perfect gentleman - polite, nice, and at times pretty darn funny. But it's not like he said anything about my appearance, or that I looked like my pictures, or that ....well...anything.
There were two parts in the conversation that I can think would've been good signs:
1) After we had been walking for about an hour (and were about 20 minutes away from our cars), we were talking about good jazz clubs (we were walking by one). And there were a ton of restaurants around there. He asked if I had eaten. I said yes and asked him if he had and he said yes, but that he just wanted to make sure that he wasn't dragging me all around downtown without feeding me. I FEEL like this is a good thing because he was almost completely done with me so he could've just dropped me off at the car and been all "SEE YA!" BUT then I remember that he's a nice guy so maybe he was just doing what was polite.
2) We were between our two cars (which were about 3 blocks apart) and it got to this weird awkward stage where I could've started a new topic or let the old one die off. So I let it die off and then said something like, "Well, thanks for meeting with me." And he said that he had a good time with me and that he'd like to do it again. I know...you're thinking WHY is she freaking out? This is her answer! And I hear you. Only, for the next 10 minutes as he walked me to my car (and we were talking), he didn't ever say that he would call me, or email me, or...well...any sort of call to action. So it was weird.
Basically, I feel a little nervous because this is the first guy that I really would like to date again. I couldn't read his signals so I don't know what he was feeling...and waiting it out to see if he calls or emails?
It'd be like prison.*
So what do you think?
*No, not really. :)
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
First, you need to know that I am a freak about things being even. I don't know what it is about me, but if someone picks up my meal or beer I feel guilty somehow. It takes me a LOOOOOOOONG while to not be all weird about it. It's driven boyfriends of mine crazy because I insist on paying for my fair share. I'm getting better about it...but it's a slow process.
So the guy that I'm going out with tonight emailed me a little while ago saying that he was looking forward to the date. I, of course, replied and let him know that I was looking forward to it as well. It sounded hokey to leave the email at that, so I opted to write something else. Since we're meeting downtown (and a lot of the parking is metered), I wanted to write:
I'm not quite sure of parking around there, but I'll come prepared with many quarters. :)
I sent off the email and got a response back that said some other stuff and then:
I should be done by 7 and I am about 2 blocks from (numbered street) and (non-numbered street) so when you call I will be there fast!
And I was all...WHAT?
I read back through what I wrote and it turns out that THIS is what I wrote:
I'm not quite sure of parking around there, but come prepared with many quarters. :)
I didn't even KNOW that I insinuated that he should pay for my parking. And what kind of diva is he expecting? Of course, I immediately shot him an email back saying that I didn't mean that he should pay for my parking and apologized. That he rolled with the punches and went with the flow is pretty great in my book. Had it been me, I'm not sure what I would've responded with...
Nothing like making a great first impression. I feel like such a tool.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
We mostly walked it mostly because of my stupid, broken knees. Because she is a great friend, I never felt like I was slowing her down and that she wanted to kick me in the shins. We did the 5K in about 49 minutes, which was pretty impressive given that the start of the race was like my worst nightmare (aka like Christmas shopping at the mall) where there are PEOPLE EVERYWHERE WHO ARE MOVING SLOWLY. I deserve a prize for not pushing people. See, Mom? I did learn something in
Because I know you all can't get enough pictures of me, TADAAAAAA!!!
Since I did not get express written consent to include a mighty sassy picture of Kelly, I won't post it here. Just picture the cutest, sassiest picture ever and that's pretty much what it looks like. :)
Friday, April 24, 2009
I was thinking this morning that there are certain things I will not go generic for....
Here is a list:
1) Cotton swabs. People, if you are on the generic side of cotton swabs, please know that there is a better life out there! Q-Tips do not hurt when you use them, the cotton doesn't come off, and the stick gives bend when it needs to, but doesn't break. They are, in a word, sturdy. You may be asking what I do with cotton swabs to require these these attributes. And just so you know, the sky is the limit! I could do ANYTHING with them because they have these attributes. Every year for Christmas, my mother gives me a generic pack of cotton swabs...proof that she always liked me the least.
2) Birth control. Some people are fine on generic birth control. I, as my friends and family found out about 7 years ago, am not one of those people. I was unreasonably bitchy (compared to now, when I feel I am reasonably bitchy), moody, and my palms itched. Apparently my moods (my moods, my moods, my lovely lady moods!) fluctuate with no warning while on generic birth control. I figure it's a foretaste of the feast to come when I'm pregnant. WHICH I AM NOT. But don't worry, I'll never show my future husband this post...and he'll have no idea what he's getting himself into. Seriously though, as you all are saving money these days, this may not be the thing to scrimp on. I'm just saying: be careful.
3) Triscuits. All "whole grain weaves" are not the same. Please learn from my mistake and trust me. Stick with the Triscuits.
4) Sneakers aka tennis shoes. Your feet are important. And no matter what type of exercise you're getting, it's important to have them supported as much as possible. As an adult, your shoe size isn't changing...and in my opinion, name brand sneakers last much longer anyway.
What about you?
What stuff are you not willing to go generic for? What generic stuff is better than the brand names and you recommend buying the generic?
Thursday, April 23, 2009
That is, mostly, because my knees have been hurting since I really started running a little over a month ago. On Saturday, while I was on the treadmill (please, we had just gotten a foot of snow the day before and it was pouring rain), I ended up running and feeling a sharp pain in my left kneecap. So I hit the emergency stop (this time on purpose) and stopped. It hurt a lot on Saturday night but that has eased quite a bit. However, walking up and down stairs has been painful since then (to varying degrees), so I was determined to figure it out.
I saw the doctor on Tuesday and long story short, she recommended physical therapy for me. At first, I was all bummed, because isn't PT for people that routinely eat at Denny's for the "Senior Discount" and who watch "Matlock" and "Murder She Wrote" on a regular basis?
Turns out, the answer to that question is: no. It's also for people who get in accidents and can't move properly. Fantastic.
BUT THEN I was told that their primary focus is to help me know what exercises to do (and what ones to avoid) so that I can live my life to the fullest...even including targeting specific muscles so that pressure will be taken off of my joints and patella. My patellas and tendons will have a chance to heal and then I might be able to start running again. I'm clinging to that hope.
So I'm trying to embrace the positive. And even though my first 5K was SUPPOSED to be this weekend, I'm coming to terms with walking it instead of running it. I'm disappointed - mostly because what I *want* my body to do is apparently different than what it is going to be able to do.
But hey, that's life right?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
It was so weird.
I'll be honest...I think I might have been worshipping her for a bit too long. First, she is one of the first bloggers I ever read that I did not personally know. Secondly, she is SO very successful. And she and I have similar writing styles (or so I tell myself on the days when I'm funny). She was the first person that when I read her, I thought, "If she can do it, I can do it!"
So I got to our local bookstore and sat down in the middle of about 200 people. I decided to pick up her book off the stack and start reading bits to see if I actually wanted to purchase it and have her sign it.
No matter which page I flipped to, I couldn't find anything that didn't relate to mommies, nipples, boobs, changing diapers, depression, or babies. I then started listening to the conversations around me - which turned out to be ALL about how Heather changed their lives when they had their babies. Her book helped them know that having a baby is not always what it's cracked up to be.
Add to that the sounds of babies gurgling, cooing, screeching, and crying and it occurred to me I was in the wrong place.
Heather came out and although I couldn't see over the sea of heads, she looked cute and glowing - even in her 7th month of pregnancy. And I even got to see her hubby, Jon who is just as adorable in real life...just in case you were wondering.
But then she read from her book. A chapter all about how she and her husband had to wait 7 months for sex after having a baby and about how she had to stretch out parts of her prior to doing so. Here I was among a bunch of women who were laughing at that and all I wanted to do was cross my legs even harder and promise to take a celibacy vow.
And that's when it hit me. Part of the promise and power of BlogHer and women bloggers is that we get to stand up for what we want. We get to write candidly about what we want to - and we get to be honest with ourselves.
So I left.
I left. Not because Heather isn't funny. If you've read her blog, know that she is usually hilarious. I left not because her blog isn't still one of the few that I cannot wait to read. But because that book signing was for the mommies out there. That meeting was to promote her book which was about how much being a mom might suck - at least at first. And that's something I'm not going to be experiencing any time soon. And it's something that I didn't want to listen to.
It was liberating to walk out. I did it in a way that wasn't rude. And it was after I had been sitting there for about 45 minutes after she came out. I waited until the Q&A session when moms were asking about toughening up nipples. But I guess I was so proud that I DIDN'T feel like I had to stay. I didn't feel like I owed her something and I didn't feel bad about standing up for me and my needs. My dog needed to be let out and I was HUNGRY...so hungry that I might've eaten a baby.
Dislcaimer: I'm confident that if I ever actually have a baby, I will want to pick up the book. I am also VERY well aware that Heather has paved the way for all bloggers out there - most especially women. And I would love to see her speak on any topic other than motherhood, just as I would love to see Edward Norton do anything other than kiss another woman.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sometimes, I love going places with my dog. She is HUGE and we get a lot of attention no matter where we go. The thing is, I need to learn when I probably SHOULDN'T take her places. Those times are when I'm cranky.
Her nails are black and because she's a Great Dane, they are really thick (think: talons). That means that they're hard to clip without hitting the quick (which is the inner part of the nail. If you hit that, they bleed all over the place). AND she needed to have her anal glands expressed. That's such a nice way to say that she has butt juice that needs to be squeezed out of her. There are a lot of things that I'll do to save money...but possibly getting sprayed with butt juice is NOT on that list.
So today, even though I knew I was cranky, I didn't have the luxury of not seeing people. Because yesterday was still snowy and icky from our blizzard on Friday, I had to take her to the vet/Petsmart today. I'll leave the specifics out of it, but let's just say that when a dog her size has anal glands that need to be expressed, it's best that you go ahead and take care of it ASAP.
We got out of the car and headed back directly to their vet area. In my experience, the vets know how to cut nails shorter and without hitting the quick than any other groomer I've been to. We're standing there behind two other people/pets that are trying to get checked in... and that's when I remember that my dog? Yeah, she's a stupid person/comment magnet.
Conversation with random lady #1:
Her: Wow. That's like a horse!
Me: Actually, it's more like a dog.
Her: Well, he's huge!
Me: Uh huh. (Inside, I want to YELL that it's a female dog - hence the pink leash and collar...but because I can already tell that she's getting on my nerves, I decided to take the easy way out).
Her: So, where do you keep it?
Me: Keep what?
Her: Your dog...where do you keep it?
Me: In the house.
Her: Oh. What do you feed it?
Her: Whoa. Can you ride it?
Her: Have you tried?
Me: No. She's a dog.
Her: I bet it'd be fun. So seriously, does she eat like animals?
Her: Like rats and mice?
Me: No - I think you're thinking of snakes.
Her: Ohmigod, she eats snakes??
Me: No. She eats dog food. Like kibble. Just like any other dog.
At this point she got the hint and decided to keep shopping for whateverthehell she came there for.
Conversation with random lady #2:
Her: Wow. That is a huge greyhound!
Her: I mean, is it mixed with something?
Me: No - she's a purebred Great Dane
Her: Oh - are you sure? Because she's a grey-ish color and I didn't think they come in that color.
Me: She's actually classified as "blue." This is the official color of blue on Great Danes.
Her: No...I think that she's got to be mixed with something. I mean, look at her back end. It slopes - just like a Greyhound.
Me: No. She's actually got the profile of a dane. She's tall though.
Her: I think that she may have some Greyhound in her. You might want to check.
Me: Yeah, okay then.
Conversation with random guy #1 (as we're leaving the store):
Him: WHOA! What *is* that thing?
Me: A dog.
Him: How did it get that big?
Seriously, I know that it seems like I'm being an ass, but this does not count all of the people that come up and want to see her, pet her, or ask a zillion questions about her. Most of the time, I'm okay with it - I even budget it in my time that I'm planning on being at whatever place I'm going. I get it, she's big. And most of the people that come up to talk are so nice and sweet. I appreciate it when they ask if they can pet her and I'll answer as many questions as they have. But I just wanted to get in and get out of the store today. I didn't want to answer any more questions.
I'm thinking about getting a shirt that just says:
Yes, they come in this color
6 cups a day
In her dog bed...not in my bed
4 years old
No, I don't own a saddle
Because those are the answers to the question I get most often.
Wow. I AM cranky today.
Sorry - happier posts will hopefully resume tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
I'd like to say that I'm freaked out about this, but to be honest, I lose crap ALL THE TIME so I can't really get worked up about this one. Unless I'm driving. And then all bets are off because the bright sunlight hits some spot in my brain (via my eye-hole) that makes me want to kill people.*
Anyway, I typically have a pair of back up sunglasses for such an occasion. I actually got a trendy looking pair, but they have been so bent out of shape that one of the lenses rubs up against one of my eyelashes. The other lens is super low on my eye. So I actually look like a freak because I'm lopsided and irritated that my eyelashes are being pushed into my eye. I don't wear those sunglasses any more.
Because of this, I was forced to break out my back-up- back-up sunglasses. I bought them in Mexico last year in January while vacationing with my family. See, I had forgotten my sunglasses on that trip and walking along the beach front was too much for my eyes. Because they had knock-offs everywhere, I decided to buy some seriously funny sunglasses. After all, they were like $5 and who cares what I look like in Mexico? So since I happened to be wearing black and red that day, I found this pair of Chanel knock-offs that were also red and black. My older sister encouraged me to get them insisting that they were the perfect Mexico accessory. As you can see in the picture below, they clearly complimented my outfit:
Yes - that IS me doing my best Karate Kid impression. Really it was to try to bring my leg up to my face so you could see how perfectly the sunglasses matched. :)
So those are the sunglasses that I wear around town these days. I feel more than a little silly putting them on. I mean, THEY ARE HUGE on my face.
But I also feel a little fabulous. I mean, they're outrageous... but kind of in a cool way.*When I first typed that word, it totally came out as "pope." I'm not going to lie to you...I'm a little freaked out about writing "kill" and "pope" together.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Yesterday afternoon, I found myself talking to an old high school classmate. While I wouldn't have ever classified him as a "friend" we had joint friends and I'm sure that we all (as a very large group) hung out together a few times.
The conversation was a little different...mostly because we were talking about the challenges of dating people that are recently divorced. We agreed to meet up for a drink the next time he had a layover in Denver. Anyway, I found it an immense blessing. I mean, my home life was a little weird my junior and senior years of high school. So I made the unconscious decision to cope with all that stress by completely avoiding almost everyone from my home town when I moved away to college. It was a slow process, but I found it easier to forget the crap that I didn't want to think about when I wasn't reminded of how shitty life had become. Mature, I know.
The weirdest thing happened after I was off the phone with him. I guess I just realized all that had changed since I had seen him. First of all, I pay my own bills. I have bought almost all of the things I own. I have health care, that I have to pay for. I've kissed men. I've had sex. I've drank alcohol. I now sleep on a queen bed. I go to church, not because my parents make me, but because I crave spirituality and need to be reminded that salvation by grace alone is the greatest gift of all.
And all of the sudden, I realized that it's not just my ability to pick out my own cereal that makes me a grown up.
I just am a grown up.
So last night, after I set my alarm for my very adult job, and climbed into my bed made with sheets that I washed myself, I cuddled up with my pooh bear.
Even grown ups have their vices.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Yes, that's right folks...I'm re-financing my home.
On one hand, I feel like it's a smart thing to do in the short term. My payment will decrease to the tune of my cell phone bill and my cable bill. And that's so very great. It means more money for
On the other hand, I am a little leery of what that means. After all, I have to be paying on my house for another 30 months before I "make back" what the costs associated with the closing. 30 months. A lot can (hopefully) change in 30 months. I mean, 3 years from now, I'll be knocking on the door of 35. And I'm not even going to get into the health reasons why having a kid before 35 is better for the mom (aka me). So if I want to get a move on (and get my groove on) and hopefully be married/having kids by then, re-financing may not have been the smartest choice. UNLESS I marry a guy who already has a house. Because then we could rent out my
My lack of being able to see into the future has me a little anxious...but I need to remember that things have seemed to work out before - and this decision may be no exception. :)
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Long story short, this is a mutual decision and one that I feel fantastic about.
You know that
My 2 ½ month long relationship with G has been pretty great. It was nice to be with someone (for a change) who wanted to rip off my clothes and have his way with me, especially as my new, healthier body is emerging. It was nice to be with someone who understood that the little things ARE important. And it was fantastic to be with someone who knew me and challenged me. He challenged me to get over my fear of dating, he made me aware of times when (mostly due to being scared) I push people away, and he helped me realize that my voice IS important. Sure, he didn’t think that I was especially funny (which, quite honestly, was heartbreaking at times) – and we didn’t have many commonalities in tastes of food, music, TV shows, activities, or movies. Because we were supportive of each other’s differences, I tried to tell myself that that stuff doesn’t matter. Only it does. HE LIKES NICKLEBACK FOR GOD’S SAKE!
The biggest challenge is that he’s so enmeshed in his ex’s life, I mean she STILL doesn’t even know that we were dating. They still talk daily and she leans on him for significant support even though they’re divorced. Red flag raised? Why, yes…yes, it was. But without getting into it more than necessary, he has his reasons. To me it seemed like a huge hurdle I couldn’t get over. More importantly, he doesn’t know if he ever wants to get married or have kids again. He wants to adjust to being single, he wants to concentrate on his job and being a great dad. And I so get that. That’s healthy for where he is in his life right now.
But I’m in a different place. I want to be married. I want to have kids. And that’s also healthy for my life right now. I want to move on with my life.
So I am.
“The talk” is happening tonight but we’ve already had a conversation today about how we both know that this is the right thing to do. We are on the exact same page – and that, like the rest of the relationship we’ve shared, feels great.
Yup – it’s the end of the relationship as we know it…and I feel fine.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
At any rate, once we got to the commissary, we were given stacks of coupons of stuff to shop for - and as we got older, we got to be in control of our very own grocery cart. We could not buy things that we did not have coupons for. NOT ONE THING. Unless you snuck it in the basket without Mom or the sisters seeing. Sure, it was tricky to get it past the ringing up process (or as I liked to think of it "The Conveyor Belt of Freedom") but if you were lucky you could distract Mom while the coveted item was being scanned. Anyway, Mom would separate the coupons into stacks where we 1) each had a stack about the same size as our other two sisters as a way to discourage squabbling, and b) were located in the same general vicinity as the other items in the stack. My mom pre-sorted coupons - she was an organizational super woman! (sigh) Sometimes I forget all the ways she's been my hero over the years.
So as my mom tried to keep tabs on up to four carts and three kids, we shopped for what seemed like a year's supply of food. Even as I think of it now, I can't really understand why getting to pick out NEW items was so exciting. Even if it was a box of Saran Wrap, I would get excited. Perhaps it was the simple thrill of shopping and not worrying about picking up the bill. Maybe it was that each of the items got to be put in the cart with care so that we could maximize the cart space. We always had overflowing carts at the end and I derived some sort of crazy satisfaction if mine was organized well: cold foods together, boxes stacked neatly, and (if I was feeling zany) the UPC codes visible so I could align them on the conveyor belt allowing for the fastest scanning possible. Uh...yeah. I was a dork even then.
But without a doubt, the best part of the trip is when we got to the cereal isle (which seemed like it was 2 miles long and 50 feet high) to pick out the cereal. Mom would have coupons from General Foods or Kellogg's that were like "Buy 467 boxes, get 1 free" and so we each got to pick out a box or two of cereal. Let me say that again: WE GOT TO PICK OUT OUR CEREAL. The only rule was that the cereal had to have less than 10 grams of sugar per serving. Other than that, we could pick ANY box we desired.
I remembered thinking that this was freedom. This was what being an adult must feel like. You get to pick ANY box of cereal you want ALL THE TIME. Adulthood? Yeah, it was likely to be sheer bliss 24/7.
I miss those simple pleasures in life. I miss getting so excited about seeing a puppy - a puppy that likely wanted to play with me if only my parents would just let me go over there and pet it. I miss trips to ShowBiz Pizza because even though the pizza tasted like crap, I got to see that magical purple monster that SANG when he wasn't resting behind a curtain! I miss admiring the "big" kids in their letterman's jackets, thinking that I would be soooo OLD when I was 18.
I miss my innocence.
So for the rest of this week, I'm resolving to look at things through a child's eyes...I'm going to stop and see the glory in the world. I'm going to seek out the simple pleasures and relish them.
And, of course, I'm going to pick out my own cereal.
P.S. I got used to the lower sugar cereals. In fact, my favorites to this day are still Cheerios, Chex, and Crispix. Sure, I went through a phase in college where I think I only ate Fruity Pebbles, but that's like THE LAW when you get to college, so I'm not going to beat myself up about it. And in case you're wondering, I still feel a rush of glee when I walk down the cereal isle. The possibilities still seem endless.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
I was even so exhausted yesterday that I called in sick for a half day yesterday morning. I came in at noon and our receptionist said something about me looking well rested. I said, that yes, I was well rested and that I slept a lot over the weekend. She tried to give me many possible reasons why that could be the case…and because she does not have her medical degree, I walked back to my desk.
I had to pass by her desk a few minutes later…and that’s when she said:
Her: So I figured it out. You’re pregnant.
Me: Nope. I’m not.
Her: No, I know. I’m just saying…what if you WERE?
Me: Well, I’m not.
Her: No, I understand that. But what if you WERE?
Me: Um…I’m not.
Other receptionist: She’s just saying that fatigue is a symptom of being pregnant.
Me: Yeah, I get that, but I’m not. And if you guys could just spread that around the office, that’d be great.
And then I got PISSED.
I mean really…I shouldn’t have to go into my menstrual cycle intricacies with them. It was a rude assumption in the first place, but after I said (the first time) that I am not pregnant, shouldn’t I get the benefit of the doubt of KNOWING WHETHER I’M PREGNANT OR NOT?!?!?!?
They heard that I was dating G…but I don’t broadcast my sexual behaviors at work (please, I leave that to my blog) and I really feel like that was pretty darned assumptive on their part.
AND even if I was, what’s the big deal anyway? Did they really think that the two people that I would tell first would be both receptionists? Uh yeah- because we’re SO close!
The substantial weight loss, hair loss, and fatigue could be explained by a lot of things. Thyroid malfunction, brain tumors, or hey…what about STRESS? I mean, I’m refinancing my house (assuming my house appraised for what I think it should have), we’ve had layoffs at work (and I have no clue if I’m next or not), my relationship with G is looking like it will be terminated shortly, our bonuses got cut at work (so money is significantly tighter), and also I STILL can’t find Pete. :)
The good news is that there was significantly less hair in the shower today and I woke up with more energy the past this morning than what I have in about a week. Perhaps this is a passing thing…
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Here's the problem: I'm noticing that there is a lot of orange hair in the shower these days. Like A LOT. An alarming amount.
Because I'm trying to think about things logically, I've come up with three possible reasons this could be happening:
1. I'm going bald either due to stress, alopecia, or another illness.
2. It may not be all that much. I may just notice it more because my hair is getting longer. Also, I know dogs shed in the spring time...does the same thing happen with people? Am I shedding?
3. I have a baby orangutan that also lives in my house and takes a shower when I'm not looking.
To be honest, I think I'd like option #3 the best. Because LOOK HOW CUTE THEY CAN BE:
I'd totally name him Pete.
Anyway, is there something to option #2? Or does everyone lose their hair like this? It doesn't come out in clumps per se as I'm washing my hair, but as I'm running my hands through my hair it'll be like LOTS of strands at once.
How much hair do you lose? Have you ever gone through this before?
If not, what do orangutans eat?
When I was looking for pictures, I came across this little guy:
I was going to use him as the "cute orangutan" picture, but to be honest, he looks a little too freaked out. It could be because he's dressed in clothes or it could be that he's shocked by how much hair he's losing too. Either way, I had to include him in this post.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
It's hard not to be concerned.
Yesterday we found out that even hard work doesn't save you in our company - and a national manager that has worked for us for 29 years was one of the people that was let go. To be honest, it doesn't seem like there was a logical reason that he was let go...and that is a little scary.
Today we found that the cuts are hitting closer to home. Positions like mine were cut all over the country today and I can't help but wonder what the heck is happening. My company is cutting positions and they aren't telling us:
- how many positions are being cut
- where the cuts are taking place
- who the cuts are affecting
- what criteria they're using to make the cuts
It's a more than a little frustrating and sad...and unfortunately because we don't have any knowledge, it's breeding anxiousness, fear, and panic. All we know is that we're in a wave of layoffs...and seemingly anyone could be next.
I'm trying not to worry. I'm trying to remember to breathe. And I'm trying to remind myself that I was looking for a job when I found this one.
But in the midst of all of the articles, blogs, and stories of friends that have lost their jobs, it's hard for me to be optimistic right about now.
The economy? It's happening. And not in a good way.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Today I bought the Nike+ system and I am THRILLED to have it. The absolute coolest thing about this is that you get to post a little graph afterwards. And it has A CUTE LADY WITH A PONYTAIL. All right, the nikeplus.com website actually has a lot of cool things for runners, but LOOK AT MY CUTE GRAPH! :)
First, before you mock me, please know that a year ago I couldn't have run a mile no matter how long you would've given me. Second, it was snowing today...and although I really wanted to test out my Nike+, I have a slew of other things to do tonight. So even though I've lately been going to the gym and working out for an hour or so, today I knew I had to cut it short. Third, no, I'm not especially proud of my just under 11 minute average. That average includes my walking warm up for and my stupid moment (see below). So it's not fast, but it is a start. And I'm thrilled that I now have a starting point. :)
And WOW I am a dork. Tonight I was determined to run the 2 miles straight so I could post a cute little graph (ahem, did you notice how cute it is??). In order to do so, I had to change my speed to be between 5.7 miles an hour and 5.2 miles per hour. I got to where I wasn't really looking at the controls and felt all cool because I could hit the up and down button for speed without looking.
That is, until I hit the "emergency stop" button on the treadmill instead of the "go one increment slower" button by accident. Uh. So my treadmill came to a screeching stop and I looked around and tried to pretend that I normally stop my workouts after a mile and a half and then re-start. Um...yeah. Of course, I had to act like I meant to do that. Kind of like when you trip over something on the road and your whole body ends up lurching forward...and then in order to save face you have to start skipping...as a way to mask that you totally almost ate it on the pavement. Yeah...it was like that. Only since everyone was listening to their music, I couldn't cover my stupidity up with a "Wow. 1.57 miles. I usually stop there to do a different interval workout, but today, I'm just going to start again!"
I'm just glad that they didn't know that I was listening to Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy" at the time. Because THAT would've been mortifying.
*that blog? Yeah, it's not as funny. Actually, it's usually not funny at all and often delves into my head about eating, Weight Watchers, issues about being fat, issues with eating, issues with body image, and my attempts to get over the issues. Basically, it'll be a never ending blog. If you thought that the sex post was bad and too revealing, you probably shouldn't go there. Heck, that whole blog could be titled TMI. It's like a frickin' girl zone full of FEELINGS and crap that makes most guys eyes roll all the way into the back of their heads. So read if you like... but please, tread lightly. I'm a tad more sensitive over there.