Friday light. I love when traffic is quick, and I get to work early, leaving me time to write a cover letter for a job application.
Do you want to know my big fear of the moment? That I, like Rachel on Friends, will be called out as not being "a team player." I spend a good 30 minutes each day (I think about it everyday, anyway) looking for another job. That can't be good.
My goal for this upcoming weekend and the week to follow: Five job applications (I have to find the potential jobs and apply for them, so it's a lengthy task), work on freelance writing stuff, and help Mama with her resume. Guess what this all means! I have to use the COMPUTER! Mommy, may I reserve some time on Saturday, please?
Longterm goal: My own computer by August :)
Friday, February 27, 2004
Thursday, February 26, 2004
Well. A packed house at church last night, and I imagine that the theater will be just as crowded Saturday for the Mel Gibson flick.
Three articles in the newspaper today talked about how American's are lazy and fat and don't know how to eat right. While I agree that this has to be true in some part, I have to ask why the researchers aren't measuring the people who crowd the gym every night.
Each evening the gym is PACKED with people running, playing basketball, biking, lifting weights, swimming, doing aerobics, etc. Unless these people go home and stuff three big macs down their throats, I'm pretty sure that they're not in the group of so-called "Americans" who are so fat and lazy...it's a scare tactic. We're being warned that if we don't lose weight we'll get cancer (new studies suggest a link to obesity and breast cancer), we'll get diabetes, have heartaches and die young.
I don't believe it, and I'm tired of hearing about how fat and lazy we all are. I get guilt trips on Sunday at Mass, and that I can handle (to a degree), but stop telling me that all Americans are lazy and fat. Every family I know makes an effort to exercise and eat well...so get over it already, we're trying our best!
Three articles in the newspaper today talked about how American's are lazy and fat and don't know how to eat right. While I agree that this has to be true in some part, I have to ask why the researchers aren't measuring the people who crowd the gym every night.
Each evening the gym is PACKED with people running, playing basketball, biking, lifting weights, swimming, doing aerobics, etc. Unless these people go home and stuff three big macs down their throats, I'm pretty sure that they're not in the group of so-called "Americans" who are so fat and lazy...it's a scare tactic. We're being warned that if we don't lose weight we'll get cancer (new studies suggest a link to obesity and breast cancer), we'll get diabetes, have heartaches and die young.
I don't believe it, and I'm tired of hearing about how fat and lazy we all are. I get guilt trips on Sunday at Mass, and that I can handle (to a degree), but stop telling me that all Americans are lazy and fat. Every family I know makes an effort to exercise and eat well...so get over it already, we're trying our best!
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Ash Wednesday.
Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ opens today. I heard a review on the Sarah and No Name Morning show on Alice (97.3 FM), and it sounds really moving and unforgettable. The regulars actually got into a heated discussion about the "point" of the movie...that Christ died for our sins. I was impressed considering the earlier 10 minute discussion of pate....hmm..
Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ opens today. I heard a review on the Sarah and No Name Morning show on Alice (97.3 FM), and it sounds really moving and unforgettable. The regulars actually got into a heated discussion about the "point" of the movie...that Christ died for our sins. I was impressed considering the earlier 10 minute discussion of pate....hmm..
Monday, February 23, 2004
I have nothing to say. I'm writing, because I haven't in a few days. I'm in a bad mood. I'm not particularly thrilled with my job, I just got a rejection letter for an article the editor said "wasn't quite what she had in mind," while I wrote the article, because she "wanted to see what I could do with it." Uh, I'm not a friggin' mindreader over here! Let me know what you want, and I'll write it. No problem. Another rejection came from an agency, not even a publishing house, which suggests that I purchase Literary Marketplace and look for another agency. Yeah. Thanks.
Sex and the City ended last night. I enjoyed watching the retrospective, eating petits pains, and drinking fake Cosmos with Mama. Still, something bothers me about the whole John/Mr.Big thing. Yeah, I'm happy, but is he going to leave Carrie again? I know we'll never find out, but he did it before. He went and MARRIED SOMEONE ELSE, then had an affair with Carrie, got divorced, and still didn't want her. What's different this time?
Except for this slightly bitter line of questioning (the end is somewhat too neat, yes?), I greatly enjoyed the following:
Charlotte: This is our baby. It really is.
Samantha: You mean more to me than any man I've ever known.
Magda (to Miranda): You love.
Ahhh.
Alright, back to work (oh wait, still on my break, I can look for another job now).
Sex and the City ended last night. I enjoyed watching the retrospective, eating petits pains, and drinking fake Cosmos with Mama. Still, something bothers me about the whole John/Mr.Big thing. Yeah, I'm happy, but is he going to leave Carrie again? I know we'll never find out, but he did it before. He went and MARRIED SOMEONE ELSE, then had an affair with Carrie, got divorced, and still didn't want her. What's different this time?
Except for this slightly bitter line of questioning (the end is somewhat too neat, yes?), I greatly enjoyed the following:
Charlotte: This is our baby. It really is.
Samantha: You mean more to me than any man I've ever known.
Magda (to Miranda): You love.
Ahhh.
Alright, back to work (oh wait, still on my break, I can look for another job now).
Thursday, February 19, 2004
I haven't had a "why I'm still single" posting in a while.
You know what...I'm sort of afraid to see what guy I date next. Given my history, and their nicknames (courtesy of my gatekeeper, Jessica):
The Jerk, Goat Boy (aka Jerk II), The Coward, That Internet Guy, and The Stalker.
Granted, there have been a few more, unworthy of nicknames, interspersed here and there, and the last one lasted like a week (longer in his mind, hence the nickname), but I am a little nervous about who I will next deem worthy to date me. Based on my history, I must not have very high standards.
The truth is, I have lower standards for a first date than I do for a second...a third...follow the trend. The higher the number of dates, the smaller the pool. I probably had the most dates with Goat Boy and the Coward, and considering everything else, they certainly were the only ones who should have gotten through to the next level.
Still and all, I'm not making a huge effort to date someone new, because, my lord, why would I want to add another link to that ungainly chain?
I tell everyone what I want. I set my own standards...and then I convince myself that I'm being petty and go against the standards. Not next time. Even if that means waiting a few months (or longer).
Patience certainly has it's upsides, and I'd rather the next guy not HAVE to get a nickname from my friends. He'll be decent, and they'll want to actually call him by his given name. That would be a nice change.
You know what...I'm sort of afraid to see what guy I date next. Given my history, and their nicknames (courtesy of my gatekeeper, Jessica):
The Jerk, Goat Boy (aka Jerk II), The Coward, That Internet Guy, and The Stalker.
Granted, there have been a few more, unworthy of nicknames, interspersed here and there, and the last one lasted like a week (longer in his mind, hence the nickname), but I am a little nervous about who I will next deem worthy to date me. Based on my history, I must not have very high standards.
The truth is, I have lower standards for a first date than I do for a second...a third...follow the trend. The higher the number of dates, the smaller the pool. I probably had the most dates with Goat Boy and the Coward, and considering everything else, they certainly were the only ones who should have gotten through to the next level.
Still and all, I'm not making a huge effort to date someone new, because, my lord, why would I want to add another link to that ungainly chain?
I tell everyone what I want. I set my own standards...and then I convince myself that I'm being petty and go against the standards. Not next time. Even if that means waiting a few months (or longer).
Patience certainly has it's upsides, and I'd rather the next guy not HAVE to get a nickname from my friends. He'll be decent, and they'll want to actually call him by his given name. That would be a nice change.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Okay, first, HAPPY BIRFDAY, IRENE! You're 21!! Wowza!
Second, the weekend was nice. It was a pleasure to watch Mama and Daddy get so excited over buying new bedroom furniture. Even though it won't arrive until the first week of March, they're already set with new bedding and even some really cool lamps. They're ecstatic. It'll keep 'em smiling for a good two weeks, and that's hard to do.
I did get the haircut, and I'm THRILLED.
So, all in all, we were a happy family this weekend.
Second, the weekend was nice. It was a pleasure to watch Mama and Daddy get so excited over buying new bedroom furniture. Even though it won't arrive until the first week of March, they're already set with new bedding and even some really cool lamps. They're ecstatic. It'll keep 'em smiling for a good two weeks, and that's hard to do.
I did get the haircut, and I'm THRILLED.
So, all in all, we were a happy family this weekend.
Friday, February 13, 2004
I forgot to mention something has occurred to me on the "why I'm boring" front. I'm pretty sane now, after almost a year of something bordering on depression and after the removal of a hormone-driving-crazy-cyst. My emotions have sort of levelled off, but that makes me sort of gray, at least in my estimation.
Also, as far as feeling like my "inner person" (or whatever you want to call it) has been neglected, I have yet another theory. As usual, it relates to that one person in my junior-high existence who seems to blame for everything (can I sue him when he's a drunk but successful attorney for every penny that he's worth? I should...). Being called ugly and a dog so often at such a crucial period in my development, something switched on inside me, and I think I'm semi-obsessed with outer appearance. I am always trying to convince myself that this boy was wrong, that I am pretty...when I start to think that though, I get all Catholic and realize that I'm not supposed to think well of myself. It's all very confusing and leaves me, well, boring and bored.
In striving to finally become the person who fits in (in terms of looks...who no one will single out for ridicule because of, well, I don't really know why he called me ugly, but I wish that he would someday realize how much he damaged my self-image and apologize. I know I'm worth that much), the person who doesn't spontaneously burst into tears, I have sacrificed some of my personality. I'm not on any kind of anti-psychotics but I can definitely relate to their feelings of numbness. In forcing myself to be normal, I've cut off the fluctuations of emotion that make me creative. I want my creativity back without the insanity (or just not so much of the weirdness)...is that possible?
If it's possible, I'm boring to MYSELF.
If I can't stand to be around me, why would anyone else want to?
I'm going to strive to bring back a bit of me this weekend when I'm baking, so I'm still looking forward to those hours in the kitchen and to the rest of the weekend.
Also, as far as feeling like my "inner person" (or whatever you want to call it) has been neglected, I have yet another theory. As usual, it relates to that one person in my junior-high existence who seems to blame for everything (can I sue him when he's a drunk but successful attorney for every penny that he's worth? I should...). Being called ugly and a dog so often at such a crucial period in my development, something switched on inside me, and I think I'm semi-obsessed with outer appearance. I am always trying to convince myself that this boy was wrong, that I am pretty...when I start to think that though, I get all Catholic and realize that I'm not supposed to think well of myself. It's all very confusing and leaves me, well, boring and bored.
In striving to finally become the person who fits in (in terms of looks...who no one will single out for ridicule because of, well, I don't really know why he called me ugly, but I wish that he would someday realize how much he damaged my self-image and apologize. I know I'm worth that much), the person who doesn't spontaneously burst into tears, I have sacrificed some of my personality. I'm not on any kind of anti-psychotics but I can definitely relate to their feelings of numbness. In forcing myself to be normal, I've cut off the fluctuations of emotion that make me creative. I want my creativity back without the insanity (or just not so much of the weirdness)...is that possible?
If it's possible, I'm boring to MYSELF.
If I can't stand to be around me, why would anyone else want to?
I'm going to strive to bring back a bit of me this weekend when I'm baking, so I'm still looking forward to those hours in the kitchen and to the rest of the weekend.
What can I say?
Fake summer ended, but Friday the 13th was off to a nice start with super-light traffic and a friendly "just popped by to say hi" from Hayley.
It's still going well.
I've got a beautifully long weekend ahead of me, and I hope that my parents will get rested this weekend (now my mom is catching what my dad has - I think we need to disinfect).
I'm going to cook and bake this weekend. Hopefully the sickies will be able to smell and appreciate the scent of baking chocolate soufflee pudding and Thai chicken curry - not at the same time, obviously, as well as freshly baked bread. My, I'm ambitious this weekend!
Have a fab weekend everybody!
Fake summer ended, but Friday the 13th was off to a nice start with super-light traffic and a friendly "just popped by to say hi" from Hayley.
It's still going well.
I've got a beautifully long weekend ahead of me, and I hope that my parents will get rested this weekend (now my mom is catching what my dad has - I think we need to disinfect).
I'm going to cook and bake this weekend. Hopefully the sickies will be able to smell and appreciate the scent of baking chocolate soufflee pudding and Thai chicken curry - not at the same time, obviously, as well as freshly baked bread. My, I'm ambitious this weekend!
Have a fab weekend everybody!
Thursday, February 12, 2004
So, I read something today about a person who is a "Native New Yorker" but has lived in South Africa for nearly forty years. Okay, so I'm a "Native Hawaiian" but have lived in California for over twenty.
What does it really mean to be a native anything?
I can't "technically" subscribe to the Native Hawaiian moniker, because that implies that I am a Pacific Islander...of a tribe native to the Hawaiian Islands.
Native New Yorker, on the other hand, brings up images of loud people with distinct accents who like the Yankees and don't bother hating the Red Sox, because as everyone knows, the Yankees are never the underdog.
A Native Californian is one of the people on the "I am California" commercials, right? People ranging from surfers to farmers to a little girl who smiles adorably into the camera.
But when does that "Native" moniker mean anything? I've lived here (California) long enough to be considered a resident and pay in-state tuition and public universities. I vote here. Native Hawaiian doesn't give me much. I wouldn't automatically qualify for in-state tuition. I would have to earn my residency. I can't get scholarships based on it...and telling people that I'm a "Native Hawaiian" would just confuse them.
Hmm, in my biography, it'll probably say:
Sarah, born in Hawaii in raised in California... rather than Sarah, a native Hawaiian.
Just my musings...
p.s. a warm "shout-out" to my beloved "shut-ins," Mama and Daddy who aren't feeling too well today...Daddy took a sick day out of his 1100 hours + sick leave...and Mama has to take care of Daddy, who is not very good at the whole sick thang. Have a great day! Watch movies! Read a book! Sleep! Smile! I love you!
What does it really mean to be a native anything?
I can't "technically" subscribe to the Native Hawaiian moniker, because that implies that I am a Pacific Islander...of a tribe native to the Hawaiian Islands.
Native New Yorker, on the other hand, brings up images of loud people with distinct accents who like the Yankees and don't bother hating the Red Sox, because as everyone knows, the Yankees are never the underdog.
A Native Californian is one of the people on the "I am California" commercials, right? People ranging from surfers to farmers to a little girl who smiles adorably into the camera.
But when does that "Native" moniker mean anything? I've lived here (California) long enough to be considered a resident and pay in-state tuition and public universities. I vote here. Native Hawaiian doesn't give me much. I wouldn't automatically qualify for in-state tuition. I would have to earn my residency. I can't get scholarships based on it...and telling people that I'm a "Native Hawaiian" would just confuse them.
Hmm, in my biography, it'll probably say:
Sarah, born in Hawaii in raised in California... rather than Sarah, a native Hawaiian.
Just my musings...
p.s. a warm "shout-out" to my beloved "shut-ins," Mama and Daddy who aren't feeling too well today...Daddy took a sick day out of his 1100 hours + sick leave...and Mama has to take care of Daddy, who is not very good at the whole sick thang. Have a great day! Watch movies! Read a book! Sleep! Smile! I love you!
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Okay. So, Valentine's Day (dundundun) is just three days away. So as not to ruin anyone's special day (although, if you're reading my blog on Feb. 14th, then your day is probably as exciting as mine), I'm going to do my Valentine's "edition" today.
This year, I plan to eat heart shaped food and some chocolate products (not candy, but like an entree with a chocolate sauce...I have recipes). I'll watch Down With Love. I'll go out in public in my cute-Valentine's-Day-outfit-on-a-tight-budget. And I'll enjoy myself. I'll enjoy the true meaning of the holiday of love...LOVE. Not romantic love with cupids, but love that knows no bounds. My family and I will cook dinner together, because WE LOVE EACH OTHER. We will sit in the living room and watch DVD's, because WE LOVE EACH OTHER. I will go to church, and we will all sing His praises and receive His body (no blood, 'cause of the flu scare...who knew?), because GOD LOVES US. And, guess what, there is a SAINT in VALENTINE'S DAY! That's what matters to me (always has, always will).
I don't have a Valentine. Never have. Probably never will. I'm sure that I'll have a boyfriend/husband/lovaaahhh someday, but I'm not sure if I'll ever entirely buy into the Valentine thing. Oh, who am I kidding? The first Valentine I have, I want the works. Flowers. Fancy-schmancy jewelery. Or, you know, whatever expression of undying love he's able to bring to the table. (and then we'll got to church...or something)
Now on to the rest of the blahblahblah.
When did Valentine's Day become an entire day affair? It used to be a dinner...a card...something simple like that. This year, though, I made the mistake of saying to my best friend, "You want to do something on Saturday?"
She shrieked, "This Saturday???!!"
"Oh," I said quietly. "that's Valentine's Day. How about Sunday?"
Yikes! It's not it's her wedding day! or even the freakin' prom! I had no idea that having a boyfriend meant a girl couldn't go have lunch with her best friend on Valentine's Day. Although, this couple made the SUPER BOWL a "couple thing." The S-U-P-E-R - B-O-W-L. Never in my life have I heard of the biggest day in professional football and for corporate advertising being a "couple thing." What's next, March Madness for Marrieds? I don't know when every event became a couples holiday. Does anybody?
Valentine's Day...I can understand a dinner, maybe a movie, or even a weekend away, but if you're in town, why can't you go out? I know not everyone is going to be sequestered inside all day doing the nasty, so why the embargo on friendly communication? Sheesh.
In other news, I'm not sending out my traditional paper Valentine's cards this year. I just don't want to. I have neither the time nor the money, although I enjoy the task. Y'all can still expect a perky little greeting in your e-mail inboxes, but I'm not in the mood to send out holiday greetings - Christmas is barely over, and I can't be expected to lick and seal thirty MORE envelopes, can I?
One more thing...here's a little info if you think you have a Valentine somewhere:
Have you heard of the "missed connections" thing on Craigslist? It's a portion of the website devoted to people trying to track down anyone from their high school crush to the guy they thought was cute on BART one morning. It was mentioned in the newspaper (Oakland Trib), and I took a look at it. I think that in order for that long shot to work, both parties have to a) regularly check out Craigslist b) even know what Craigslist is, and c) actually respond to a desparate pleading for the "guy in the Red Sox cap on the Millbrae train" (I made that description up completely, but that's what the listings generally sound like).
So, good luck. Go to Church. Eat candy. Love somebody, but please, can we take back the rest of our lives...the holidays seem to be in control!
This year, I plan to eat heart shaped food and some chocolate products (not candy, but like an entree with a chocolate sauce...I have recipes). I'll watch Down With Love. I'll go out in public in my cute-Valentine's-Day-outfit-on-a-tight-budget. And I'll enjoy myself. I'll enjoy the true meaning of the holiday of love...LOVE. Not romantic love with cupids, but love that knows no bounds. My family and I will cook dinner together, because WE LOVE EACH OTHER. We will sit in the living room and watch DVD's, because WE LOVE EACH OTHER. I will go to church, and we will all sing His praises and receive His body (no blood, 'cause of the flu scare...who knew?), because GOD LOVES US. And, guess what, there is a SAINT in VALENTINE'S DAY! That's what matters to me (always has, always will).
I don't have a Valentine. Never have. Probably never will. I'm sure that I'll have a boyfriend/husband/lovaaahhh someday, but I'm not sure if I'll ever entirely buy into the Valentine thing. Oh, who am I kidding? The first Valentine I have, I want the works. Flowers. Fancy-schmancy jewelery. Or, you know, whatever expression of undying love he's able to bring to the table. (and then we'll got to church...or something)
Now on to the rest of the blahblahblah.
When did Valentine's Day become an entire day affair? It used to be a dinner...a card...something simple like that. This year, though, I made the mistake of saying to my best friend, "You want to do something on Saturday?"
She shrieked, "This Saturday???!!"
"Oh," I said quietly. "that's Valentine's Day. How about Sunday?"
Yikes! It's not it's her wedding day! or even the freakin' prom! I had no idea that having a boyfriend meant a girl couldn't go have lunch with her best friend on Valentine's Day. Although, this couple made the SUPER BOWL a "couple thing." The S-U-P-E-R - B-O-W-L. Never in my life have I heard of the biggest day in professional football and for corporate advertising being a "couple thing." What's next, March Madness for Marrieds? I don't know when every event became a couples holiday. Does anybody?
Valentine's Day...I can understand a dinner, maybe a movie, or even a weekend away, but if you're in town, why can't you go out? I know not everyone is going to be sequestered inside all day doing the nasty, so why the embargo on friendly communication? Sheesh.
In other news, I'm not sending out my traditional paper Valentine's cards this year. I just don't want to. I have neither the time nor the money, although I enjoy the task. Y'all can still expect a perky little greeting in your e-mail inboxes, but I'm not in the mood to send out holiday greetings - Christmas is barely over, and I can't be expected to lick and seal thirty MORE envelopes, can I?
One more thing...here's a little info if you think you have a Valentine somewhere:
Have you heard of the "missed connections" thing on Craigslist? It's a portion of the website devoted to people trying to track down anyone from their high school crush to the guy they thought was cute on BART one morning. It was mentioned in the newspaper (Oakland Trib), and I took a look at it. I think that in order for that long shot to work, both parties have to a) regularly check out Craigslist b) even know what Craigslist is, and c) actually respond to a desparate pleading for the "guy in the Red Sox cap on the Millbrae train" (I made that description up completely, but that's what the listings generally sound like).
So, good luck. Go to Church. Eat candy. Love somebody, but please, can we take back the rest of our lives...the holidays seem to be in control!
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
I have GOT to start writing this stuff down...again, I had a good entry posted and fell asleep before I could fully process the darn thing.
I am loving FAKE SUMMER. It's supposed to get up over 70 today...it's actually kind of cruel, because I know that next week or the week after or sometime way too soon, it'll be back to layers and hiding my face from the bitter, cold wind. Today, though, I'm planning my wardrobe for the rest of the week, and if stays warm, I might where....SANDALS on Friday! Gosh!!
Over the past several weeks...really in that post holiday rush of relief from stress, I've gotten more appreciative of my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm willing for things to change in a few months, but right now, I don't mind the working thing..well, that's a lie.
Here's the truth...I think I am not cut out for the 40 hours in an office week. I'm more of an "enjoy the moment" girl, and I want my moments dagnabit! I like my mornings in a sun drenched kitchen eating cereal, drinking anything out of a coffee mug (probably not coffee, but there's something comforting in holding the handle and cradling the solid mug in my hand), reading the paper (style or entertainment section, of course...along with the real news). I like afternoons with reheated lunches, a walk with the dogs.
If I were a writer and had my druthers about my schedule it would go something like this:
8:30-9 - Breakfast and paper
9:00 - 9:20 - Get dressed and "ready" for the day
9:30 - All set to work...check e-mail, get focused, select music...begin writing, take care of business things (bills, query letters, etc.)
11:30 - Get up to stretch, maybe check e-mail again
12:30 - 1 - Lunch and conversation
1:00 - 4:00 - Write
4:05 on - Make dinner, walk the dogs....focus on the rest of the evening with family, etc.
That would be a nice day. It makes me smile just thinking about it!
I promise, if I end up with a beautiful schedule like this at any time in my future, I will still make time to see my marvelous friends on the weekends (perhaps you'd even like to visit me in my perfect house, because if I have this schedule, then I'll obviously be living the dream, and you'll want to come over and feel all comfy...but don't worry, I won't become a hermit).
Ahhh...the musings of a girl who doesn't really like her job right now and has a nice little imagination.
I am loving FAKE SUMMER. It's supposed to get up over 70 today...it's actually kind of cruel, because I know that next week or the week after or sometime way too soon, it'll be back to layers and hiding my face from the bitter, cold wind. Today, though, I'm planning my wardrobe for the rest of the week, and if stays warm, I might where....SANDALS on Friday! Gosh!!
Over the past several weeks...really in that post holiday rush of relief from stress, I've gotten more appreciative of my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm willing for things to change in a few months, but right now, I don't mind the working thing..well, that's a lie.
Here's the truth...I think I am not cut out for the 40 hours in an office week. I'm more of an "enjoy the moment" girl, and I want my moments dagnabit! I like my mornings in a sun drenched kitchen eating cereal, drinking anything out of a coffee mug (probably not coffee, but there's something comforting in holding the handle and cradling the solid mug in my hand), reading the paper (style or entertainment section, of course...along with the real news). I like afternoons with reheated lunches, a walk with the dogs.
If I were a writer and had my druthers about my schedule it would go something like this:
8:30-9 - Breakfast and paper
9:00 - 9:20 - Get dressed and "ready" for the day
9:30 - All set to work...check e-mail, get focused, select music...begin writing, take care of business things (bills, query letters, etc.)
11:30 - Get up to stretch, maybe check e-mail again
12:30 - 1 - Lunch and conversation
1:00 - 4:00 - Write
4:05 on - Make dinner, walk the dogs....focus on the rest of the evening with family, etc.
That would be a nice day. It makes me smile just thinking about it!
I promise, if I end up with a beautiful schedule like this at any time in my future, I will still make time to see my marvelous friends on the weekends (perhaps you'd even like to visit me in my perfect house, because if I have this schedule, then I'll obviously be living the dream, and you'll want to come over and feel all comfy...but don't worry, I won't become a hermit).
Ahhh...the musings of a girl who doesn't really like her job right now and has a nice little imagination.
Monday, February 09, 2004
For some reason, perhaps the lovely weather over the weekend, I've been thinking a lot about San Diego. I know that with the fires just a couple of months ago, the area hasn't been in the best of shape of late.
So, here's a brief list of the things I found charming about SD:
*Balboa Park - the museum, the Japanese Garden, the organ concerts on Sunday afternoons throughout the summer
*The fact that it was actually pretty easy to navigate using a map
*Ten Dollar baseball seats were REALLY GOOD (of course, the stadium is now gone...but I can appreciate the fact that just last summer, there were good seats available for the price of two coffees at Starbucks...and pretty good ballpark food, too)
*SHOPPING (Loehmans, that cool open air mall....I get all happy just thinking about it)
And who can forget:
*The Beach...it's there for the using!
I would love to let my dogs run on San Diego's beaches...J.J. would enjoy the warm water, Bailey wouldn't look at us with that "are you completely insane, this water is COLD" look on his face...I think they'd like the climate. Pauvres...
Okay, that's all, a pretty vague ode to San Diego...but thinking about walking around in that next-to-perfect weather makes me even happier than thoughts of shopping :)
So, here's a brief list of the things I found charming about SD:
*Balboa Park - the museum, the Japanese Garden, the organ concerts on Sunday afternoons throughout the summer
*The fact that it was actually pretty easy to navigate using
*Ten Dollar baseball seats were REALLY GOOD (of course, the stadium is now gone...but I can appreciate the fact that just last summer, there were good seats available for the price of two coffees at Starbucks...and pretty good ballpark food, too)
*SHOPPING (Loehmans, that cool open air mall....I get all happy just thinking about it)
And who can forget:
*The Beach...it's there for the using!
I would love to let my dogs run on San Diego's beaches...J.J. would enjoy the warm water, Bailey wouldn't look at us with that "are you completely insane, this water is COLD" look on his face...I think they'd like the climate. Pauvres...
Okay, that's all, a pretty vague ode to San Diego...but thinking about walking around in that next-to-perfect weather makes me even happier than thoughts of shopping :)
Friday, February 06, 2004
This weekend, I am going to purchase for myself a lovely pink outfit. Not all pink, just with enough highlights in my "signature color." It's my Valentine's Day treat to myself. Macy's here I come!
I might even get a haircut. Yes. I will get a gorgeous new haircut. I think, however, that I shall avoid bangs. Maybe.
I will most certainly avoid hair dye at all costs.
I will not go to Master Cuts, because I am too afraid of those people to ever tell them just what I want.
For my hey-aren't-I-great-don't-I-look-stylin' haircut, I will go to Super Cuts, because I generally trust them (and they happen to have someone working there whom I have known most of my life).
Note: This is the first step in what is usually a VERY long process before me actually letting anyone touch my head with scissors (why am I so weird about getting my hair cut? I don't know, ask my dad...he's fussy about his hair, maybe I get it from him).
I might even get a haircut. Yes. I will get a gorgeous new haircut. I think, however, that I shall avoid bangs. Maybe.
I will most certainly avoid hair dye at all costs.
I will not go to Master Cuts, because I am too afraid of those people to ever tell them just what I want.
For my hey-aren't-I-great-don't-I-look-stylin' haircut, I will go to Super Cuts, because I generally trust them (and they happen to have someone working there whom I have known most of my life).
Note: This is the first step in what is usually a VERY long process before me actually letting anyone touch my head with scissors (why am I so weird about getting my hair cut? I don't know, ask my dad...he's fussy about his hair, maybe I get it from him).
Thursday, February 05, 2004
It has come to my attention (well, more I just realized with a big "doing!" sound in my head) that I never mentioned the lovely lunch I had with Marie several weeks ago.
Finally, after like four months, we were able to agree on a date and meet up for omlettes at Crepe Vine on College. The food was yummy; the company was even better, and my room is now free of all Christmas-presents-waiting-to-be-given! Yeah!!!
Marie put up with my weird little ways, including missing the first two weeks of school/rush and going home every weekend, and still wants to be my friend...all while maintaining an ever-current-never-over-the-top sense of style. Amazing!
In other news, I was sick again yesterday...I think the ITP is trying to remind me that I'm not "normal." It's true, I'm not. Still, I like to meander through life forgetting that I have a spleen that doesn't recognize my own platelets...I may have a decent level of intelligence, but my spleen is downright paranoid! Dang!
I think I'll feel better, overall, when I can sink into the culture of a single place. Working in Berkeley but not living here...living in F-town but not working there...it's confusing. I can't keep track of what's going on, what matters. It's hard to get caught up in small town life when I spend sixty hours a week away from it.
Did I mention it took me 3 hours to get home on Tuesday? THREE HOURS! To go 40 miles! Ridiculous!
Okay, that's my shout-out, a rant, some random stuff...you know, the usual!
Finally, after like four months, we were able to agree on a date and meet up for omlettes at Crepe Vine on College. The food was yummy; the company was even better, and my room is now free of all Christmas-presents-waiting-to-be-given! Yeah!!!
Marie put up with my weird little ways, including missing the first two weeks of school/rush and going home every weekend, and still wants to be my friend...all while maintaining an ever-current-never-over-the-top sense of style. Amazing!
In other news, I was sick again yesterday...I think the ITP is trying to remind me that I'm not "normal." It's true, I'm not. Still, I like to meander through life forgetting that I have a spleen that doesn't recognize my own platelets...I may have a decent level of intelligence, but my spleen is downright paranoid! Dang!
I think I'll feel better, overall, when I can sink into the culture of a single place. Working in Berkeley but not living here...living in F-town but not working there...it's confusing. I can't keep track of what's going on, what matters. It's hard to get caught up in small town life when I spend sixty hours a week away from it.
Did I mention it took me 3 hours to get home on Tuesday? THREE HOURS! To go 40 miles! Ridiculous!
Okay, that's my shout-out, a rant, some random stuff...you know, the usual!
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
Back at work...feeling a bit better as the day goes on, but at the start of the day, I seriously felt as though the only thing that would make me feel better would be a week at home. I'm looking forward to lunch (and book exchange, or at least book return) with Hayley.
That's all...seriously, my brain is toast.
That's all...seriously, my brain is toast.
Monday, February 02, 2004
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