Movin' on up...to somewhere...

So, I feel more like a grown-up today. I interviewed Friday for a position in a law firm and had a very strange feeling as I left. Mom, Bryan, and the woman at the head-hunting firm all asked me how it went. I just kept repeating 'I have NO idea.' I was frustrated to the point of rambling at even what had happened during the interview. The women who interviewed me were distant(physically and interpersonally-the conference table was HUGE),casual to the point of indifference and seemingly unprepared. I was kind of glad for the last part because I hate those 'tell me about the last time you...' interviews. I just don't remember things catagorically like that. Anyways, it was the first time I've walked out of an interview feeling unsure, confused, and downright curious. Because I had gotten the tip through an agency I didn't know much about the position that they were hiring for, and although the interviewers gave some information about it, I still couldn't picture the duties and responsibilities at all. I had a whole weekend to sit around and think about it. If the interview had definitely gone one way or the other, I wouldn't have fretted about it at all. Having little investment in it either way, since I couldn't really picture it, I couldn't even figure out for myself if I really wanted it or not. It would mean a great deal more money, a great deal less time, and a schedule shake up at JC (NOT a bad thing), but I knew something else was bound to come down the pike if this fell through.
But I got it. I have no idea how I pulled that off; if they really liked me and thought I was qualified or driven over another applicant, or if the others didn't even show but either way, I'm in the money. I'm a M-F 9-to-fiver. I've let the idea sink in all day now, and keep realizing how this changes things. In little ways, like I'll have to revamp my workout schedule and miss those late-morning runs before work, and in big ways, like this might mean the end of the chain of unskilled-little-more-than-minimum-wage jobs I've had until now. So here's my plan so that if I don't do it everyone can bug me until I do. I want to work a decent paying job like the one I got today, save a boatload of money in a few months, and move. My tentative relocation destination is Austin, Texas (see photo in post #1). I took the photo in December when I was visiting the lovely Esther (and Ben, of course), and pretty much fell in love. I'd heard it was a great place and I knew Bryan had always wanted to check it out, so I tooled around on foot most of a day and got a great vibe. Didn't see Lance Armstrong or Matthew McConaughey, but hey, if they like it, I'm sure it's cool. So what do you think, y'all (gotta get used to colloquialisms sooner or later, right?)? It's a scary proposition, moving somewhere you don't know anyone to make a life doing something you're not sure you want to do forever-but people do it everyday. Right? Right. I'll keep you posted.

I'm Good Enough, I'm Thtrong Enough...& Gosh Darnit, People Like Me!

Ever have one of those days? I can't remember where I read that this sculpture is, but I think I could stare at it for hours, feeling self-conscious and waving my hand in front of its face every once in a while. It's thought provoking, and I knew I wanted to use it in a post at some point, but I couldn't figure out how until today. It has a lot of impact and speaks volumes about whatever subject you could conceive, but I think it would be entirely different and more specific had the sculptor decided to form a woman. I relate to it in that everyone, but especially women in this society are ruled by shame. There are no set standards today because we have come to believe that 'there's always room for improvement.' Whether it be our bodies, our eating habits, our spirituality, our careers, our possessions or lack thereof, we are never good enough.
I went out for a run yesterday after work. In theory it would be a wonderful, life-affirming, calming and energizing endeavor. The weather was beautiful, my training regimen left room for just a short, peaceful jog, and I had great music on my iPod. As I started, though, I realized I wasn't falling into my natural stride within a few meters as usual, my legs felt heavy and unruly, and worst of all, my shorts kept getting shorter, and shorter, and shorter. Let the floodgates of negativity fall open as they may, and damned if I didn't make myself miserable thinking of how much potential this run had, and how disappointing I was that I couldn't reproduce the gloriously fast and easy 5-miler of two days prior. I heard myself saying I was probably grossing out innocent bystanders with my jiggly thighs sticking out of my ever-shorter spandex shorts, that I was weak, and out of shape, and would never be able to reach any sort of potential, let alone feel good about race participation. And those group rides I was thinking about joining? The masters swim meetings and jogging clubs? They'd laugh at me and wonder how I could think I deserved to even show up with their elite selves.
But wait a minute. How far did I just run? Two miles. How far did I used to run? Oh, yeah-a mile might as well have been a marathon. And how much exercise have I done this week? Two-a-days three days in a row, including one kick-ass weight lifting session? And how many calories have I been meticulously counting out every day? A measly 1200 while burning half that in a couple of hours everyday?! I wonder why I'm EXHAUSTED? I mentally stepped out of my body, turned toward myself and slapped the 'poor me' look off my silly face. If my best friends ever talked to me the way I do I'd never talk to them again. So I shut myself up, enjoyed the rest of the walk home on a truly beautiful evening (it's about freakin' time), popped open a hard cider that had been hiding in the back of the fridge (oooh-extra calories! Gasp!) and sat outside like a normal person, taking in the world and not obsessing about my next workout, the numbers on the scale, the calories in my next meal, or even what needed to get done in the house. When I finally came inside and walked past the mirror I noticed that my former self would have killed for these muscly thighs, and that in fact skin alone jiggles, if one bounces enough. I decided, too, that I deserved those creepy but somehow still a little flattering catcalls I got from a car full of guys speeding past me as I crossed an alley.
So I think I'll wake up early one Sunday morning soon and head down to the women's ride I heard about, and I know there's a cheap jogging club around town somewhere. I think I'll take my own advice for a minute and be good to myself. I may want to improve, but a bad day or two does not a failure make. Sadly, I knew that this blog would be an appropriate place to air these frustrations because I know I'm not alone in these feelings. We're all too hard on ourselves. Go be a good friend to #1.

At the Car Wash, Yeah!

Yes, that is a 15-foot icicle (stalactite?)at my neighborhood car wash. I was driving by and couldn't resist snapping a shot of something you don't see everyday-especially in a place that prides itself on being on the north edge of the Mason-Dixon line. Notice the caution tape across the entrance. They actually have to tell people that this bay is out of order?! That's like the Milk jug that I picked up at the grocery yesterday that has a label reading 'Allergy Information: Contains Milk.' Nice.

S.A.D., Anyone?

This is a beach not far from home, and the photos were taken at about noon. Can't you just hear the malevolent whistle of the wind, and feel the icy miniature snowballs like needles on your exposed skin? For all of you in warmer climes, I just wanted to let you know how lucky you are. You may miss home, but this kind of seeping cold that makes your jaw ache, your eyes tear and then freeze, your fingers feel numb and then on fire--it's not so romantic when you're in it.

Mark your calendars...

For 2/23/07. I know most of you are already looking forward as much as I am to the release of 'Reno 911: Miami' but for those of you who are unfamiliar, you have obviously been living in a comedy cave. Come out, dear ones, and see the light that is stupid, rude, bumbling and incompetent policing! Watch for 'Terry', my favorite flaming-gay rollerskating petty criminal, especially.

Will it be worth $8 and an evening of your life? Maybe not, especially if you don't like stupid humor. But hey, laughing makes you live longer, right? In that case, I'll be around forEVER, SUCKERS!

Oh, Puh-leeze.

This storm brought St. Louis to a standstill. This beautiful, powdery 3-or-4 inch accumulation of snow closed schools and businesses; including my own, swamped every grocery store and cleaned their shelves of milk and bread and cost hundreds of thousands of dollars in time, energy and repair costs for accidents throughout the metro area. I know that everyone says that where they come from it's (fill in the blank per appropriate condition), but come on-3 inches? 20 degrees? This is not a big deal, St. Louisans! What would these people do in Iowa? Duluth? Buffalo, for heaven's sake?! They love their DRAMA here.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I know it's a Hallmark holiday kept alive by bitter housewives, but isn't it fun to take a day out of the year to show people that you love and appreciate them and not look silly?! I'm such an optimist I make myself sick. You're probably all picturing me wearing a tutu and carrying a sparkly wand, prancing around saying 'turn that frown upside-down!'and well, you'd have a pretty accurate imagination. I would have a better day, however, if my valentine were less than 1600 miles away.

Paranoid? Me?

O.K, it's officially a conspiracy. Yesterday I got the only squeaky treadmill. I switched after a mile or so, and let someone else feel self-conscious. I guess I'm "them" now.

Awww...

"Eternal Embrace"
http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070206/sc_nm/italy_embrace_dc

I am dork...hear me screech

So, I'm on the elliptical machine at the gym yesterday at 6:15 a.m, minding my own business, still bleary-eyed from the cold, and enjoying anonymity in a sea of sweating bodies. After 10 minutes or so I start noticing over my music an intermittent screech- someone's obviously dragging their feet on a treadmill and each time they take a step, their sole is making this intrusive, repetitive noise. I hate that. It goes away, finally. Then, a minute or so later, it's back in full force. I pop out one headphone, localize the sound to my left and rear, and try to go back to my workout and block it out. Gone! Nope, it's back. Dude! Pick up your feet! I start looking around, politely letting the offender know that I can hear it, and it's getting old. I can't find it, and the only machines around me are sporadically-used weight machines. I keep going, getting truly annoyed. At minute 29 I make the sad realization that it's my machine, screeching on the higher-resistance "hill" portions of my workout and silent on the lower-resistance cycles. That's probably why when I walked in this was the only machine not being used, and why as I pumped away I kept noticing that the people on machines near me kept leaving, and weren't replaced. I had been making a fool of myself looking around and probably rolling my eyes when I couldn't find the sound and everyone else knew it was coming from about 2 feet behind me. Well, you won't find me at the gym early on Thursdays for a couple of weeks. Good thing I can laugh at myself, or I could be feeling really dumb. Oh, wait-I still do.

da catz...

These are my non-deductible (*sigh*) dependents. Blu Snuffluppagus Silvertoes, III (AKA "Blu")has a very strict daily schedule. It consists of rousing me, eating, yelling to play with the water in the sink while I try to brush my teeth around him, sleeping in a cold room all day, eating, sleeping by the radiator as evening falls, eating, chasing his sister during their nightly sugar rush, doing his caterwaul water call over his bowl in the hallway, romancing and sniffing it for about 5 minutes before finally drinking, and promptly retiring on the bed or with his feet under the radiator once again (he likes to be spontaneous with this final choice). The exception to this schedule is of course when he gets his bath-no, not when he bathes himself, but when he is forced under the faucet in the sink and comes out fuzzy, deflated, emasculated and smelling like a baby. Those days are spiced up by sulking, licking the areas of his body he can reach and/or isn't too lazy to get to, and running away if we're in the same room.

Princess Bella Petunia Slipperfeet (AKA "Bella"), on the other hand, has a malleable schedule. It pretty much just revolves around me. She's neurotic, needy and startles every time the wind changes direction (she hates noise, you know). People that are around her for any length of time go through the same affection process. First it's cute and flattering that she wants to rub on you and sit on you constantly, then it gets real old. Typing around a cat gets old; getting woken up by loud, wet purring and whiskers tickling your face as she signals to you that she needs to get under the covers and spoon with you, invariably as you finally really get to sleep gets maddening; and seeing her pout, plead and finally wail as you walk out the door, surely abandoning her forever, gets heartbreaking. Then you start to wonder at her capacity for love, however. How can a being be so infatuated and unconditional for so long? What has she been through that she sees ME as her savior? The one who whines loudly as I pull up the covers, fully awake, and get her fur out of my face as she settles her tiny head on the pillow; The one who wants to scream when all I want to do is check my darn email and can't see the screen!

They're EXPENSIVE (did I mention they need Rx FOOD?), messy, high-maintenance, sometimes smelly, have ruined furniture and clothes, are completely ungrateful, and so darn cute. Who needs kids?

LIES! They're all LIES!

I love my iPod!

I'm getting back in shape for this triathlon season, and love seeing the results when I sync up my nano to the Nike+ site, but I must admit I've gotten a little obsessed. I have a total of 4 workout logs, 2 for just running and 2 for lists of everything I'm doing and schedules for raising my mileage, weights lifted, speed, and pool distance. It's so easy to forget the last time you took a day off when you're doing two-a-days and having a life.

I Googled myself yesterday to see if this blog would pop up [it didn't :'^( ], and saw my name in a list of 'endurance athletes' for my 5 miler in NYC last year. That was fun, I sound like somebody!

It's an easy-run, upper-body workout day, I love those (I just hate how sore my arms will be tomorrow-I hate getting back into lifting!), gotta go!