Okay, so I worked for about four hours today and accomplished pretty much everything I have to do for the next few weeks. I even threw in a few extra activities and got those done too.

I've told my boss that I don't think I really have that much to do. She looked at me like I was crazy.

I somehow got myself some work with the marketing and education department and my boss said "I'm just concerned because I don't want them taking you away from you work here..." Well I'm now sitting here with my headphones on, with no music playing, staring at my screen and my boss is worried about someone taking me away from this?

So my new mantra is this "I just need to make it through ski season, I just need to make it through ski season, I just need to make it through ski season..."

What's in my muffin?

This morning, I got a blueberry muffin from Vic's, the local coffee shop. Vic's, like every other place in Boulder, does not have normal baked goods so I knew I wouldn't be getting an old-fashioned blueberry muffin. Usually, they're blueberry cornmeal or blueberry oatmeal. But this morning's muffin is blueberry + ? and I can't figure out what ? is...

Anyway, when I got up to the counter, there was a $20 on the ground. I knew it wasn't mine and like every good Boulderite, I believe in karma so I picked it up and said "um... there's a $20 bill on the ground..." and the guy at the counter said "um... maybe the woman behind you? cause she was the last in line?" I asked "woman behind me" if she had dropped some money she said, "I don't know..." then saw the $20 in my hand and said "oh yeah, probably," and took it. Hmm... I bet she's not a Boulderite. And if we have lightening later today, I bet she gets hit.

Tonight I ate ice cream and listened to Billy Collins discuss poetry with Terry Gross. One of the poems they discussed was "Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden which is so incredibly beautiful:

--

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

--

See what I mean? That's good stuff.


Then later, I made a CD for my friend Mike. I called it "Girl Power." It was a response to his CD "Music to listen to while being a guy." Also good stuff

I was just perusing the NY Times, the Style section, in fact, and I it's very "Sex in the City," but I happened to read one of the marriage profiles (you know, the really in depth ones) and so... I couldn't help but wonder, is it possible for a single person to read one of those profiles and then feel good about herself?

Yesterday, my friends and I caroused it up at the Great American Beer Festival and today, I was feeling decidedly un-good. Sorry to anyone who encountered me and/or talked to me because I definitely wasn't with it.

I don't really remember drinking that many beers so I'm thinking it was the combination of so many different kinds of beer plus the duration of the evening plus the general craziness of it all.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it...

So I had a semi-bad day today. I just woke up cranky and then it went from there. There was work stuff, which I'll have to tell you about later but which made me really, really, really want to start looking for a new job right now instead of next spring. And then, to top it all off...

On Saturday, I met KA and her roommate Eric at the Hungry Toad (this little pub down the street) for dinner and a few beers. I got there early and as I was waiting at the bar, this old guy (and I do mean old) slash bar-regular started talking to me. The guy is probably around 60 and generally, I let my guard down with guys who are that old because my dad's that old and really, you just don't think about it. Or should I say I don't think about it... the guy introduced himself to me and I guess I said something like "oh, I'm {insert full name here}" because if I hadn't given him my entire name, how else could he have looked me up in the phone book and then called and left me a message asking if I'd "like to get together for a cocktail some time."?

It's so creepy and wrong on sooooooo many levels. KA said the only thing that makes it semi-okay is that he is really as old as he is and back in the day it was acceptable slash common practice to look someone's number up in the book so maybe he doesn't know how creepy slash stalker like it is.

But still... I never gave him my number. Or wrote my name down. And I don't necessarily have an easy name to spell. So for the love of god, why do men think it's okay to do these sorts of things? Did he really think I would be interested? Especially since he was wearing some kind of funky purple track suit thing? Good god.

But really, what I'm writing to say is that after the disgusting old-guy-asking-me-out thing, on top of the bad day at work, (and the Steelers' loss yesterday) I went and played kickball. Although our team lost in the last inning, I had tons of fun and it made me forget about all of the bad stuff that happened today and that's a good thing.

It's true what they say... things really can change in the blink of an eye...

Good Buju

The other night, I went to see Buju Banton with Thomas and his random, hipster, funky-hat wearing friend Neil. There were protesters outside the theater because Buju apparently has a song with anti-gay lyrics (though how anybody could have possibly understood any of the lyrics during the show was beyond me). He wrote the song in 1993 and while the song is most definitely homophobic, is it right to protest someone for a mistake he made over ten years ago, when he was 19? I don't know. Part of me says no but part of me was definitely uncomfortable with it all. Good thing the tickets were free.

Regardless of the political angst, the show was good but I was out until 1:00 on a school night and let's face it, I'm not as young as I used to be. Also (and I think the alcohol may have had something to do with this), we stopped in a convenience store on the way home and, for some reason, I got all nostalgic about Tidal Wave gum and insisted on buying some Bubblicisous with juicy stuff in the middle. And you know what? It was gross. Totally gross. But I wonder what I would have thought about the gum thirteen years ago?

So what I'm saying here is the gum made me think that maybe we shouldn't be held accountable for the mistakes we make when we're young and naive. Cause what was a good idea last decade may not be so good today and so long as you realize that and learn and grow, it's all good (well, it's all good except for the gum. The gum is still totally gross).

Yesterday, I posted something to C.’s blog that talked about the ebb and flow of life and how it’s easier to be okay with the ebb and flow when you’re in the flow and not the ebb. This weekend, without a doubt, I was in the flow. But I feel like last night, my dreams kicked me back into the ebb. It seems like ever night for the past month (and I know for sure it’s been every night for the past few weeks), P. has been in my dreams and the less I try to think about him, the more he’s there. The dream thing is telling as to how I’m doing with it all, how much I’ve really dealt with it, and, most importantly how much I have (or really, have not) moved on.

But last night, I dreamt about P. and my job and that’s just a horrible combination. However, the two are interconnected so it makes sense. So basically, I hate my job and I’ve spent a lot of time wondering how I ended up here, at this job I don’t like, in the middle of nowhere and the truth is, I ended up here because of P.

I took the job because I thought I’d be moving soon to be with him. I thought I wouldn’t need to be here long. I thought I could tough it out for a year. And I thought the job would look good on my resume. I thought it would be a good stepping stone to fining a new job. If P. and I hadn’t been together, I don’t think I would have said yes to IBM. And maybe I wouldn’t have left Pittsburgh either. And I’m sure I wouldn’t have left the east coast.

But I did. And so here I am. Alone, on my own, in the middle of the country, in a job I don’t like, with no plan to get out of it. This is not a good thing.

I know I should just relax and realize that the ebb and flow will take care of it all. And honestly, there are many, many good things about my situation that don’t have anything to do with my job, my family, or boys. But still… I need an escape plan. Right now, the only plan I have is to stay put through ski season (I’d be foolish not to!) but that’s as far as my plan goes. This time next year… well, who knows where I’ll be. But I’m willing to bet it won’t be in this office, or even this office complex, maybe not even this town…

You can call me a purist but just don't think that this should legaly be called a spork.

It's the little things

Those of you who know me know that I am absolutely fascinated by things that are smaller than their normal size, mini things, if you will. (I am also absolutely fascinated by that giant can of tuna that you can buy at Sam's Club. I mean, it's just so big.)

Therefore, I was gleefully delighted by the sampler tray yesterday at Golden's second biggest brewery, the Golden City Brewery. (I'll give you three chances to guess the biggest brewery in Golden.)



Golden City Brewery is basically a house (and a small house) that's been turned into a brewery. There are about three or four tables in what used to be the living room and what was once a yard is full of picnic tables and plastic chairs on which patrons lounge while sipping the brew.

The Brewery was the last stop of a long day spent with my new pal, Thomas (the one for whom KA and I hosted the Wisconsin BBQ/B-day party a few weeks ago). Earlier in the week, he talked me into running a 5K with him on Saturday morning in a little town called Conifer. Neither one of us had ever been to Conifer and Thomas thought it was about the same elevation as Boulder so I thought the 5K would be no big deal. Turns out, the town is a wee bit higher (like between 8000 and 9000 ft) and the race was half up-hill trail running. Good thing I'm not a high maintenance girl (not that there was enough oxygen up there for me to throw a hissy fit).

I toughed it out and crossed the finish line, gasping for breath, around 29 minutes. Thomas was waiting for me at the end with a bottle of water and an apology. Stupid elevation.

But the race wasn't all bad. Thomas came in second place in his age group and before the awards ceremony, we hung out in the "beer garden" with about ten other runners. We had one beer, at high altitude, on empty stomachs, at 10:30 in the morning and so he an I were both inappropriately giddy during the awards ceremony.

To sober up, we split a jelly donut and then headed to Golden where we played vintage video games (Q-bert, Ms. PacMan, and Donkey Kong), stopped at the Puma outlet, and hit the brewery where we sat in the early autumn sun and played Scrabble.

I ended the day but hanging out with KA, Thomas, Jake (from my kickball team) and Jessica (my upstairs neighbor and Abby's official baby sitter). We ate Chinese food and watched Anchorman which was just as funny the second time around. I was in bed and sleeping soundly before midnight with that incredibly content feeling that comes from those moments when you can see how good life is.

About a month before P. and I broke up, Jose (our Puerto Rican intern) had a similar break up with his girlfriend. He and she had been together at school in New York. She knew she would be moving to California for her job so he took a job out here to be closer to her, thinking that he would eventually end up with her in California. But... she had a rough childhood and, as a result, has extreme difficulty with relationships. So the closer Jose and his girlfriend got, the "crazier" (his word, no mine) she got. Eventually, it got to the point where she completely withdrew from him. She wouldn't call, she wouldn't write, she didn't tell him what was going on in her life.

Sound familiar?

Needless to say, Jose and I have spent a lot of time bonding over our similar situations. I ran into him in the hallway yesterday and (to sum up) he told me he's been thinking about his ex-girlfriend a lot. He's realized he's still in love with her and that he's willing to be with her if she's willing to get help. And he's also realized that until he tells her this, he's not going to be able to move on with his life and move on to someone new. He's still connected to her and until he tells her how he really feels, he always will be. It doesn't so much matter if she agrees. So long as he tells her, he'll be okay.

As always, I know exactly how he feels.

He said he needed to see her and was working out a plan to make that happen. When I got home last night, I had an U.S. Airways e-savers email waiting for me. I browsed through it quickly and saw a cheap flight from Denver to San Diego (where Jose's girlfriend is right now). I sent the email to him with a subject line that said "Is it meant to be?"

I talked to him today and he's pretty sure he's going to go. "Lots of things have been lining up," he said. I'm incredibly excited for him and incredibly happy for him, too. Is it because I'm living vicariously through him? Because I want these same things to be happening to me? Or am I just legitimately happy for him?

Or maybe it's none of these things. Maybe seeing this happen for Jose makes me see hope, makes me realize that hope exists. And maybe it's good for me to see that right now no matter who it's for/about.

WebMD is evil

because I just convinced myself that I have meningitis (but I don't think I have meningitis).

What could possibly cause a person, such as myself, to get a song, such as the Electric Slide, stuck in one's head on a leisurely Sunday morning?

I've been keeping a running list of the crazy songs that get randomly stuck in my head. To give you a brief window into my madness, here are just a few of them:

Always and Forever
Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places
Heaven is a Place on Earth
Don't Stop believing (yes, that's right - Journey)
Eye of the Tiger
That "You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run" song by Kenny Rogers
Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weeny, Yellow Polka dot bikini (this one, oddly enough, is related to prairie dogs)
Celebration (um, Lionel Richie...)
Hard Knock Life (yep, the Annie soundtrack)
The theme song from "Greatest American Hero"

I think I'm starting to scare me.

It's only semi-cloudy today, with sporadic rain. I was hoping for one of those lazy, rainy Saturdays that so rarely happen around here. A good Saturday to curl up on the couch and watch football without really watching football. But that hasn't happened and that's okay.

Instead of lounging on the couch (or really I should say futon), I went to brunch with KarinAnne. We made a quick trip through the farmer's market on the way back and I bought a bag of not-so-good-looking peaches to make peach cobbler. I was assured that even though they don't look so good on the outside, they're beautiful on the inside and that's what really matters.

After I got back from the market, I took Abby for a little hike around Mt. Sanitas. I planned to do a hike up the valley trail (it's less harsh than the other trails and Abby is eleven...). However, the valley trail was closed (roped off by police tape and everything) due to "recent mountain lion activity." There was also a very serious looking ranger hiking up the trail.

The sanitas valley is only a few blocks from my apartment. So that means the "recent mountain lion activity" was only a few blocks from my apartment. Hmm...

It’s been over two months since I broke up with P. and as much as it kills me, I’m still upset about it every day. I’m only upset for a short time each day but still, it’s every day. I know I shouldn’t be but I am and I also know the more I try to fight it, the worse I’m going to feel. “What we resist, persists” is how the saying goes so this is how it must go.

The other day I stopped into Jose(our intern)'s office to share some mate (which, by the way, was disgusting). He asked me how I’m doing. I told him I’m doing better but that I’m still upset most days and he said, “You know in my country (Puerto Rico), we have a saying ‘sometimes a nail takes another nail.’” I think something may have gotten lost in the translation but Jose explained it to me like this: when you take out an old nail, you need to replace it with a new one. In other words, sometimes, in order to get over a relationship, you need to have another relationship.

Ah yes, the rebound.

Others have suggested this would be good for me, too. But I’m so aware of my rebound status that I’d feel bad inflicting myself on some poor, unsuspecting guy. Plus, I’m a big believer in karma. AND I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between good and evil in interpersonal interactions. (I want to use another word that begins with “in” but I can’t think of one right now.) I think that evil is when you do or say something that may hurt the other person (or that you know will hurt the other person) and then you do or say that thing anyway. I don’t want to be evil.

But let’s see… what if I create a personal ad that states, directly, that I’m interested in a rebound relationship with no long term commitment wanted? Then I wouldn't be evil. And we could have fun by taking bets on how many date offers I receive. I’m guessing there would be too many for the match.com server to handle.

The theme of self-created reality vs. what's really real keeps popping up, in my mind, in other people's conversations, in the things I've been reading. I can't help but think that if something keeps bringing itself to your attention (or if you keep noticing that something), then it must be significant in some way.

I feel like there's an epiphany waiting to happen...

What I have

Right now I have a freshly baked baguette, an inexpensive, yummy French cheese, and the most perfect organic strawberries you've ever seen.

What time is it?

Sometimes I think I have everything I want/need. But sometimes, I think I have nothing.

Which is it? Do I have everything (good friends, fun times, cool town, endless cute guys, sunshine every day) or do I have nothing(no family, broken heart, crappy job, sunshine everyday)?

Or maybe I have both at the same time, which means I can have which ever I choose.

But is it really that easy?

Welcome to my world

I've often tried to explain what it's like to live in the funky town of Boulder, Colorado but I don't think I could do a better job than a recent article in Outside magazine.

Really, I live across the street from North Boulder Park and the thing about the skiers is spot on!

Statistically less squiffy

Recently, Forbes Magazine published a list of the drunkest cities in America. Milwaukee was #1, which makes sense given all of the breweries, the working-class thing, and the fact that there's not a lot going on in the Mid-west.

What was interesting to me was that while Pittsburgh was something like #7 or #8, the Denver/Boulder metro-area came in at #15. The problem is, the Forbes ranking implies that Denver/Boulder is 50% less drunk than Pittsburgh and honestly, I'm at least 50% more drunk in Denver/Boulder than I was in Pittsburgh.

Whoever came up with these rankings obviously doesn't read my blog.

I can't be the only one

Be honest: Who else is upset that Pluto is no longer a planet?

What's wrong with me?

At the moment, I can't remember my zip code. Honestly, I can't. Is it 80304 or 80302? I don't know. I honestly don't know.

Healthy snacks suck.

While I was "training" for the relay, I think my eating habits weren't so good so now that I'm not running five miles a day, I'm trying to be a bit more healthy. I brought sugar snap peas and baby carrots to work with me today and they were okay but peanut butter cups are so much better. And don't even get me started on peanut butter cup ice cream...

What do you know about Wisconsin?

My friend Thomas is turning 29 on September 3rd. And because he's a triplet, his two brothers are turning 29 too. To celebrate their b-day's KarinAnne and I are going to plan a Wisconsin themed cookout. So far, we've come up with bratwurst and mac and cheese. Oh, and cheap beer. If anybody has any ideas that could work, let me know!

Lost and Found

I have a black and silver ring that was made from an old typewriter key. The ring has been missing for over a month, ever since I went to Pittsburgh for the 4th. I brought the ring with me and it never came back. I thought it had fallen out of my bag at Cara's place but she searched and didn't find it. The only other option would have been Pete's but I wasn't about to ask him if he found it and since he's mailed every other crazy item to me since he moved, I figured if he had found the ring, he would have mailed that too.

So this morning, I was supposed to leave for Vancouver to spend a week with Pete, had the ticket and everything. My flight has departed and I'm still in my living room in my pajamas. But, as I was sorting through one of my drawers, a small, shiny, round object fell out. It was the ring that's been missing since July. I'm trying to see some kind of symbolism in this, like everything that I've wanted/needed has been right here in front of me the whole time but I'm having a hard time seeing it, you know?

End of an era

Tomorrow (Friday) my cmu.edu email address will officially die. I've spent some time being nostalgic, reading over old emails, etc. I thought about saving some of the emails by forwarding them on to a different account but then I thought, why bother? What's over is over. What's past is past. And maybe being forced to move on isn't such a bad thing. Maybe there's some larger force in life that knows what's good for me. This would be the same force that often makes items of clothing go on sale at the register when I decide to buy something and it doesn't appear to be on sale.

I'm being a girl

I got stung on the toe by a bee while I was walking to a meeting this afternoon and gosh darn if it doesn't hurt. It's strange to think that I didn't complain at all about running over the continental divide but a little sting on my little toe and I can't stop whining to anyone who's willing to listen.

Anyway, here are some pictures from the run. I'll try to get more posted as they become available!

Wicked awesome gimmick races

I got an email from one of my friends that ended with "Till we talk again, I wish you luck in whatever wicked awesome gimmick race you're competing in during the interim." I'm thinking that maybe he thought it would be a while until I participated in my next wicked awesome gimmick race but wouldn't you know it, I'm doing another one this weekend. The muddy buddy.

It's a running/biking race where, at the end, you and your partner have to crawl through a mud pit before crossing the finish line together. And yes, I paid money to do it.

The weekend after that is the Moonlight Classic bike ride in Denver and then the weekend after that I think I'm going to do the Boulder version of the Urban Assault bike race. And the weekend after that... I think I'll take a break.

I know I've been participating in a lot of these crazy events lately but I think I'm just getting it all out of my system. And, since I was supposed to leave on Saturday to spend a week in Vancouver with Pete, I think this stuff is a good way to distract myself from the fact that I'm not doing that. But regardless of why I'm doing all of this stuff, my guess is that this time next year, I'll probably be quite lame.

Le futon est ici!

My futon fully arrived today. It's currently in three separate boxes but my plan for Saturday (the first day I don't have any plans) is to put it together and then lounge on it while watching movies. (Okay, wait... I think that means I have plans now...)

So the results are in for the Wild West Relay and my team came in 18th out of 94 teams. Our time was just under 27 hours for 195 miles. Not too shabby for a bunch of IBMers! And, considering one of our runners got lost and ended up running 10 miles when he only needed to run four, 18th place isn't too bad at all. What can I say, our team was good!

I was one of the slower runners on the team (just barely running under 9 minutes a mile) and I felt kind of bad about holding the team back. But really, I think I held my own, especially when I had to run five miles up the side of a mountain on a dirt road called "Deadman's Road". It took me just under an hour, which is the same time it took my in-shape, long distance running friend Dan who was running the race on another team. I don't think he walked at all though, and I walked a bit. I'm also betting he didn't have an out-loud pep talk with himself around mile three. Um, yeah, I didn't do that either...

Anyway, pictures to follow as soon as I'm un-lazy enough to upload them. That could take weeks...

Asses + Passes

So my teammates and I got our asses over the passes this weekend. I'll have to fill you in on all the details and craziness later (like how at 5:00 am I went from being completely asleep to running in less than 15 minutes and how our team vans had giant, inflatable monkeys on them) but I just got back from Steamboat not too long ago and even though it's only 7:00, I'm not sure I'll be awake much longer. But to sum up: the race was fantastic and I'm already thinking about doing it again next year. Yea!

Twenty-four hours from now...

I'll be in a van in the middle of Colorado with five other stinky people. I'll have already run about ten miles and will have 6.5 left to go...

I should be sleeping but I can't sleep. Instead I'm awake, eating the potato chips I bought for tomorrow and thinking about how emotions tend to breed the same emotion. Anxiety (about not sleeping) breeds anxiety (about not sleeping). Excitement breeds excitement, happiness breeds happiness, and fear (that your relationship wont' last) breeds fear (and your relationship won't last).

I should really be sleeping and not eating so many potato chips because eating potato chips breeds more eating of potato chips.

Perform activity as if you had stolen object.

My new favorite phrase is any variation of the template above. It's most effective when you say the pharse twice with "baby" in the middle. For example, to someone riding a bike you would say, "Ride it like you stole it, baby! Ride it like you stole it!"

Give it a try and see if you don't like it too.

Already racing

The Wild West Relay doesn't start until tomorrow morning but my mind is already racing. Why does this always happen? I know that I my body needs sleep and so my mind wakes my body up and then I can't help but think about how I should be sleeping but I'm not and I need to sleep because I'm going to be so tired because I'm going to be up for over 24 hours AND I'll be running 17 miles in that 24 hours, and, and, and... It's exhausting.

Anyway, the race, you know, the BIG race is tomorrow! I'm incredibly excited! I'm also excited to be spending a weekend away from Boulder. I'm hoping this one goes well. The last trip I had, well, it had it's good moments (like spending time with my friends. you know, you guys who are reading this.) But it was emotionally stressful in a bad way. I'm thinking this race will be emotionally stressful too but in a good way, you know?

Additions to the list

I thought of a few things that should be added to the date criteria check list. Here they are (in no particular order):

* MUST sincerely laugh at my stupid jokes

* MUST not have noticeable amounts of product in his hair

* MUST not have that little patch of hair (referred to by some as the "flavor saver") under his lip. This one rules out a disproportionately high number of guys in Boulder but that's just fine by me.

Thank god for blogs!

How can you tell that I don't have much to do at work? Because I update my blog, multiple times, throughout the day. It's good to have the blog to give me something to do and also to help me think that maybe somebody out there is laughing at my stupid jokes. I think I'm happiest in life when someone legitimately laughs and my stupid jokes.

Is "legitimately laughing at my stupid jokes" on the checklist? If not, it should be. Jamin (my ex-husband) never laughed at my stupid jokes and I think this is one reason we're not married anymore.

Another reason to thank god for blogs is that Jamin has one (www.jamin.org, in case you're interested). I was bored on Saturday afternoon so I took a peek to see what's been going on, what he's up to, who he's decided to be today, etc. I was pleasantly surprised to see that he's back to the guy I met many years ago. You know, the one that I didn't like the first time I met him? His blog is full of musings on his writing and what it is that makes him a poet, though through our relationship, I discovered that there's absolutely nothing about him that makes him a poet. It's interesting to see he's still clinging to this identity, or that he still needs an identity. But it was comforting to me to see that somethings never change and to realize the biggest lesson I've learned in life is to trust your feelings from the start cause they're the ones that turn out to be right.

So today, I'm feeling like I need to leave work around 4:00 so I can go home and take a nap...

Maybe little pinch?

I love the new Honda Element ad with the crab in it! I love it almost as much as I loved those crazy Quizno's ads a few years ago and that's saying something.

Support yourself

Okay, I know I have a kickball game to play but it was just raining so I took a few minutes to read over the archives of my blog. Now, I don't want to come across as arrogant, conceited, full of myself, etc, but when your supporters in life are dwindling, you need to support yourself. (This is what Ricky Bobby did in Talladega Nights, for those of you who have seen it) and so I just wanted to say, I can be pretty darn funny sometimes.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a kickball game to play.

Now if you'll excuse me...

Tonight is my last kickball game of the season and because of that, any time I've ended an interaction with someone today, I've said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a kickball game to play." I would then pivot on my heels and swiftly depart.

But on top of that, I've been doing some thinking about how it is you can claim to love someone and then just cut them out of your life without thinking twice. There are several people in my life to whom this applies. Many, in fact. It's the way I handled things when I was 17. (And Rachael, I do believe I handled a fight with you like this once and all I can say is I'm so, so sorry. I was young. And emotionally immature. I had a lot of issues. I've worked on them, am working on them, etc, etc.) So obviously, the people that have done (or are doing) this to me are probably like I was when I was 17, even though they're much older than 17. And even though I'm trying to be compassionate and understand, the way my good friend the Dali Lama would want me to, it can be tough and can seem unfair at times.

Ah, but life isn't fair, is it? After all, even though my kickball team was in a three-way tie for second (with two teams tied for first), we were ranked 5th in the league. We're playing the 6th place team tonight to see who wins 5th place. Our record is 4-2. Theirs is 2-4. Doesn't seem fair, does it?

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a kickball game to play.

The south will, um, ride again.

This past Thursday, I participated in the Thursday Night Cruiser Ride. The week's theme was "redneck appreciation." It was an upsetting ride on many levels. One thing that upset me was how realistic some people's costumes were. Way too believable. It was also upsetting that I liked wearing a cowboy hat way more than I thought I would (or should).

Anyway, the wild west relay is this Friday. Maybe I should wear the hat while I run... Or maybe I should say "if" I run. My lower back has been hurting me for a few weeks now and it's only getting worse. There are many theories about why this is happening: too much running, too much yoga, old running shoes, etc. But I've never, ever had a problem like this before. My theory is it's a physical manifestation of all the life stress I've been going through in the past month. Let's face it, there's been a ton of it. And given all I've been through, I'm doing remarkably well. So since the back pain is all in my head, my head can make it go away by the end of the week, right? Let's hope so...

How much fun is too much fun?

People in Boulder seem to attack fun with the same intensity with which they attack their fitness goals. It's an incredibly social town; There's always something fun going on and always someone fun to do it with. But I'm wondering, is it possible that I'm having too much fun out here?
 
Next weekend is the BIG race. I said I was going to take it easy this weekend and rest up but already, my weekend is filled with things to do. And on top of my social commitments, I volunteered to be in charge of decorating our team vans for the race. We need to decorate the vans so that our runners can easily pick them out at the runner exchange areas. So... my idea (and I can't believe a bunch of middle-aged IBMers went for this) is to "pimpify" the vans. I'm going to fabricate some "bling" this weekend maybe get some of those crown air freshener's, some fuzzy dice, etc. But this is a topic for another post...
 
So I know that I should start saying "No" to things but when the events are all interesting and the people asking are interesting too, it's hard to say no.
 
I do believe that this is a good problem. But never-the-less, it's a bit of a problem. But maybe it's nothing a little nap and a martini can't solve...

Timely

C'est interesant, n'est pas?

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/03/fashion/03marriage_bg.html

Slide, slide, slipity slide

Okay, so there weren't that many pictures taken during the Urban Assault Race but here's one of the ones that I got. It's me at the end of the slip-n-slide, the triumphant finish of the race. (Actually, I think this was my second trip down the slide, just for fun, but who's counting.)

For everyone who is planning to visit me:

I just bought some furniture, a slick little futon lounger (color:iron) from West Elm. So now when you come visit me, you'll have something good to sleep or lounge upon (while you're up watching TV at 5:00 a.m. and I'm still sleeping).

Really, no need to thank me.

The checklist does its thang!

I know this boy who's cute, and funny, and nice. This boy seems to like me but no matter how hard I try, I can't like him back. I've been feeling bad about this because, like I said above, he's cute, and he's funny, and he's nice. And he does so many things that OTHER people I've dated haven't done, like contact me often, make plans to see me again, tell me that he misses seeing me if it's been a while. But still, I can't like him and I feel like I should. Or should I? I wonder what the checklist would say...

Okay, here goes:

* MUST own a car and by car I don't mean cobalt or stratus. We're talkin vw, audi, saab. you catch my drift. Okay, he's got one. It's a funky-orange Jeep Wrangler. A very cool car by Boulder standards.

* MUST be no more than 3 years older than you. Haha! Three years younger.

* MUST have sense of humor; that is, must be able to take a joke and successfully pull one off. Check.

* MUST be athletic though not a jock. I'm going to say check. He's definitely athletic but I worry he's on the verge of being a jock. He wears a baseball cap too, too often, though MikeyP says he'll grow out of it...

* MUST like sushi; Californiaia roll doesn't count. Check.

* MUST be stylish; eg, absolutely NO CROCS and NO nautica, tommy, or polo. Hmm... I don't what to say on this one. He's not un-stylish but, well, he's a guy and he dressed like a guy. He wears polo shirts and maybe that should be a disqualification on its own...

* MUST be able to name 5 Belgian beers. Okay, so here we are. The Belgian Beer question. At first, I wasn't sure this one was important but I'm beginning to see it's the most important of them all. It hits upon some subtle quality that the others don't. I'm going to have to ask "boy" next time I see him (tomorrow) but I honestly don't think he could name five Belgian beers. So there you have it. He doesn't make the cut. He's out of the running. I don't have to like him and I don't have to feel bad about it.

Assaulting Urbanites

This morning, I did the Urban Assault Race in Denver. I haven't spent a lot of time in Denver so I thought it would be a good chance to see the city. You'd think I'd have see a lot of it over the course of about 25 miles but I was too busy trying not to let the lady in the green jersey and her husband beat me that I didn't see much. Anyway, the couple came in about 60 seconds behind me, mostly because they had trouble locating the rubber chicken in the foam pit.

Pictures to follow, I hope...

Crested Butte is not to be.

I was planning to go camping in Crested Butte this weekend but it looks like my dog sitter plans are falling apart so I may not go. Friends of friends have offered to watch her but they live south of Denver and it all seems like a giant hassle with too many details to work out.

I'm trying to have a zen-like "things happen for a reason" attitude but honestly, I've been walking around with this look on my face all afternoon :(

I need your help!

Okay people, I need your help. Please tell me that I should not attempt to get in touch with Pete by any means. That although, right now, I feel like I should, the moment will pass and it's best for me to just move on in life and let it all go...

The Checklist...

After talking with a number of you over the 4th of July, it became clear that although I am good at many things, I may not be good at picking boyfriends. To help me out, MikeyP and Mark offered to create a checklist that I can use to evaluate guys on the first date. They've been collaborating a bit and here's what they've got so far (in no particular order):

* MUST own a car and by car I don't mean cobalt or stratus. We're talkin vw, audi, saab. you catch my drift. (It's kind of funny how many guys I've dated who would have been eliminated by this one alone.)

* MUST be able to name 5 Belgianan beers.

* MUST be no more than 3 years older than you. (I think I'm going to change this one to 4 years. A guy who was born in 1970 should be considered okay. He would have been a senior (in college) when I was a freshman (in college). That's different than dating a guy who was a senior (in college) when I was a freshman (in high school).)

* MUST have sense of humor; that is, must be able to take a joke and successfully pull one off.

* MUST be athletic though not a jock. (In Boulder, this one pretty much goes without saying...)

* MUST like sushi; Californiaia roll doesn't count.

* MUST be stylish; eg, absolutely NO CROCS and NO nautica, tommy, or polo (It may be tough to find a croc-free guy out here but I'm going to give it a try.)

I also think that the guy:

* MUST pass the dog test. This means you have to be into my dog the first time you meet her. (Both Pete and Jamin failed this one.) Let's face it, if a guy can't be nice to Abby, who is the sweetest thing in the world, there's no way he's going to be able to be nice to me.

* MUST also give me a present on my birthday. (Again, both Pete and Jamin failed this one.)

* MUST NOT make me cry on my birthday. ([Sigh] Pete and Jamin again... are we noticing a pattern here?)

As for the actual date itself, I think there should be a system where the guy gets bonus points for doing certain things such as opening my car door (don't know why I like it so much but I do), planning a good date (good restaurant + after dinner plans, etc.), and witty repartee is also nice.

So there you have it. Keep in mind that the list is a work in progress so feel free to submit your comments and suggestions. And stay tuned to actually see the checklist in use!

In Retrospect

It didn't seem like such a bad idea at the time but looking back, I think that ordering a large latte at 6:00 pm was a mistake. I should take this time to be productive - clean out my closet, read a book, paint my toenails. But instead, I'm going to mindlessly flip through the 100+ TV stations I have until I numb my brain enough to fall asleep.

Sunday Morning

I'm having a lazy Sunday morning. Drinking coffee, watching the Tour de France. It's nice. I miss these.

So yesterday, I went shopping with my friend KarinAnne. She's looking for a cruiser bike and although I didn't think I was looking too, I fell in love (IN LOVE) with this bike:



I already have two bikes and don't need a third, do I? Or do I...?

I'm also toying with the option of buying an old cruiser and fixing it up myself. Might be a better idea if I had a garage or an uncarpeted area to work on it. Might also be a better idea if I hadn't fallen in love (IN LOVE) with the bike above.

After shopping, we went to see Dressy Bessy at the Fox Theater. On our way, we stopped at a cheap Chinese restaurant for those flaming volcano drinks. I think I summed it up for all of us when I said, "I'm getting too old for cheap alcohol..."

Today I'm having brunch with KarinAnne and Ian. Then I'm off to see "Wordplay" with Thomas after which we're going to try to go to the second largest brewery in Golden, CO. I think it's in some guy's basement.

Is it wrong...

to blog from work? Well, whatever. This is technically "think" Friday, which means I'm supposed to do things that enrich my mind and thus, enrich the pockets of my company.

Yesterday, I finally finished the big project I've been working on since I got here. Because I never really had the slacker grace period that most employees get, I'm doing it today. Mostly, I've been shopping for furniture on-line. It's exhilarating. I have a casual meeting from 2 - 3 and then I think I may go for a run and not come back. Sounds like a plan to me.

In keeping with the tradition, I have many fun things planned for the weekend. This is good because it means I won't be spending too much time at home, moping about Pete. However, I'm a little frustrated by the fact that I'm still moping as much as I am. I think the problem (or I should say "one of the problems") is that it was just so abrupt. He was a huge, gigantic jerk to me. I said "I can't be with you if you're going to treat me like this" and he said "Okay, that's fine. Bu-bye." and that was that. And I just don't get that.

I probably shouldn't think about it any more. Good thing I live in town that keeps me constantly busy. And even if I didn't, there's always Netflix...

Spoke too soon

I don't know how many of you are keeping up with the Tour de France this year (especially since Lance is gone) but all that stuff I said about Floyd Landis yesterday, just forget about it because check him out today!

Poor Floyd

Right now, I'm watching the rebroadcast of the Tour de France and I'm watching Floyd Landis suffer and lose all hope of wining the Tour. Poor Floyd.

Anyway, with all the emotional turmoil that's been going on with me, I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping. But I'm happy to say, I had the most glorious nap after work today. Glorious!

After I woke up, I uploaded my pictures from the Roller Derby. Check 'em out.

Not a happy post...

So...… as we all know, the last six month, no, no, no, the last twelve months have been fairly crazy for me. There's no way around it's been a rough year. So to add to the list of craziness...

I had my laptop home with me over the weekend. I knew I was riding my bike to work on Monday so while I was out and about on Sunday, I stopped by IBM to drop the laptop off (it's heavy and I didn't want the extra weight while I was riding).

When I got to IBM, the parking lot in front of my building was all roped off with yellow police tape. There were a bunch of police vehicles and people standing around the perimeter. In the middle of the parking lot, there was one guy poking around in a navy blue mini-van.

Seemed a bit strange so I drove to the next parking lot over and walked into my building from the side. As I was walking in, I could see that there was a body lying next to the mini-van. I got an eerie feeling because things just didn't seem right. Seemed like it was a dead body. But if there really was a dead body in the IBM parking lot, wouldn't there be more commotion? Wouldn't there be more people? Wouldn't there be news cameras and flashing lights? Wouldn't I be restricted from seeing it?

I thought maybe it was a police training exercise but I also thought maybe it wasn't.

I dropped my laptop off and when I went back outside, the body was still there, not moving, still in the exact same place, in the exact same position. It was over 100 degrees on Sunday and police exercise or not, no one would be able to stay that still on asphalt in that kind of weather. Part of me knew it had to be a dead body, part of me was convinced it wasn't.

Sunday night, I went to a dinner party and I told my friend Dan the story. I told him I thought it was a dead body, had to be a dead body. "Nah," he said. "If it had been an actual dead body, there would have been more people, more commotion..." "Yeah," I said, wanting to believe him.

But when I got to work yesterday, here's what I found out: A guy in my department committed suicide in the parking lot on Sunday, not necessarily all that long before I got there. And that's what I saw.

I'm making empanadas

I'm going to a Spanish dinner party tonight with my friends Dan and Hedda (like "Heather" but a little gheto). I'm going to bring banana-black bean empanadas, which seems a little risky cause I've never made them before. But I do love mixing fruit with my food and is the name is such a nice use of alliteration. Luckily, Dan is bringing both wine and his guitar, on which he will play Spanish music, so if the empanadas suck, I'm covered.

Onward and Upward: The new me is Pete-free

The week of whining came to an official end Friday at 12:01 a.m. To celebrate, I began Friday with a 6 mile run at 6:00 a.m. with Emilie, who's on the Wild West Relay team. After the run, I met a friend (a guy friend) for breakfast. I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a date or not. I had been building it up as a date but when I got there, it didn't seem to be. But maybe that's because I didn't want it to be.

It could have been because it was early, or because I realized my attraction to "the guy" had to do with the fact that he was the opposite of Pete in so many ways, but I just wasn't feeling it. Oh well. I at least walked away from the experience with this great idea: The breakfast date is the perfect guy-testing ground. If you can stay interested in someone that early in the morning, before you've had coffee, then chances are you're really interested in him for him and not just because you're trying to balance out your heartbreak.

After work, the celebration continued with a trip to the Roller Derby, followed by many exciting adventures in Denver involving, amongst other things, the roller derby teams, a pedi-cab, the Real World house, and an underground blues bar where we haggled over the price of admission. We got it down from $25 ($5 apiece for 5 people) to $15 for all of us with free drinks for the ladies. Not bad.

I'm working on uploading all of the pictures from the evening but in the meantime, I think this one does a good job of capturing the spirit of it all:

I don't think I'll ever grow up

cause just now, walking across the IBM campus all by myself, I ran through the sprinklers.

The Silver Lining

I think that one of the best things about breaking up with someone is that when you listen to songs about breaking up/bad relationships/love gone wrong, etc, you can completely identify and thus rock out on a whole other level.

Friday Night Fights

I've been cordially invited to join a group of people at the roller derby this Friday to watch the Business Casualties take on the Green Barrettes. Although I feel like I should be against this sort of thing for some kind of moral or intellectual reason, I think I'm gonna go, unless someone can think of a good reason why I shouldn't.

Grow up already!

It's Monday night, after midnight, and I just got home from kickball. We won our game (16 - 1: they actually invoked the "slaughter" rule and called the game because we were winning by 15 runs...) and then we went to Conor O'neils (an Irish Pub off Pearl St.) to celebrate. One drink led to another and, well, what do you know, here I am. Up late on a school night. I think I've said it before but I feel like I'm an undergrad again, only this time, I have money to buy good beer.

I love this town.

Just when things seem the darkest...

I just found out there's a Puma outlet in Golden, Co.

Monsooning

It's monsooning today. We get monsoons here. Who knew?

Anyway, that means it's been raining all day, making for good sleeping-in weather. Too bad I had to wake up at 6:30 to go for a butt kicking trail run with my relay team. Who's bright idea was it to go running in Rocky Mountain National Park? It's rocky and mountains. Rocky Mountains. Geez.

So, given the conditions of the run and the conditions of the past week (lots of sadness and crying, lots of drinking, lots of bad food, and not nearly enough sleep) I wasn't feeling so good. I just couldn't do it today. Not only was my body no good, I couldn't handle competing (while pretending to not compete) with my teammates. So, about three miles into the run, I left the group and headed back to the car on my own.

Even though I wussed out on the run, I felt good as I slogged back to the car. For the past few weeks (maybe even months), I've been so focused on Pete and the slow collapse of my relationship that I haven't really been taking care of me and today, I saw how much that had been hurting me.

It was monsooning in the moutains too and while "monsoon" seems to imply something chaotic and out of control, it was really just a nice, gentle rain. The mountains were covered by clouds and being out there, alone in the middle of RMNP, I realized that I am alone. And then I realized that maybe that's okay because as long as I have me and I'm taking care of me, it's going to be okay.

Week of Whining

As most of you know, I'm completely heartbroken and crushed by the horrible Pete-related events of this past weekend (for those of you who don't know about them (Marisa), chances are you know enough about the past that you can form a vague idea of what happened and then call me later to get the scoop).

Therefore, I'm officially announcing a week of whining. For the next seven days, I'm going to allow myself to be sad and do all the things that go along with it like crying and whining to complete strangers and anyone who stops by my office, eating way too much ice cream, drinking too much, buying way too many pairs of new shoes, considering signing up for 8-minute dating, and crying at sappy TV commercials. Let this post serve as a warning that all of these things are coming. But after seven days, the week of whining will draw to a close and I will move on with things.

So, thanks to everyone who's already put up with it. Mad props go out to all of you (Mark, Mike, Ali, and Karen) who consoled me, fed me, and let me cry on their shoulders (literally) this weekend. Extra, extra mad props go out to Cara who did all of those things but also rescued me downtown after the breakup, let me use her apartment as a home base, and did her best to keep me occupied all weekend so that I never spent too much time wallowing in my self-pity. You guys are the best and I'm so lucky to have so many good friends like you. : )

(special mention - mad props also go out to Cara's dad who, though he was unaware of the Pete-problems) kept a steady and generous supply of alcohol coming my way at dinner on Sunday.

Stay tuned...

Those of you who hung out with me over the weekend know that my blog is going to undergo a slight format change. Stay tuned for the official announcement. But in the meantime, I need a volunteer to take my cell phone away from me for a while so I'll stop text messaging Pete, obsessing over the fact that he won't text me back, or call me, or even talk to me, etc. What you'll need to do is keep my phone and tell me when I get a call/message that is from someone other than Pete (which will be every call/message I get) but otherwise, don't let me look at my phone, no matter how hard I plead with you. Any takers?

Giant Noggin

So the other night, I went to the Boulder Lunch Group (BLG) happy hour and met up with a few people from my kickball team. I was ready to head home and call it a night by about 9:00 but they talked me into going to the Foundry, this semi-cheesy undergrad bar. It was the Foundry's 10th anniversary party. Ten years ago, when the Foundry was new Big Head Todd and the Monsters were new too and, since they're from Boulder, they used to play at the Foundry, back in the day. So... for the 10th anniversary, Big Head Todd showed up in Boulder and did a spontaneous concert at the Foundry. Nikki, from my kickball team, is a huge Big Head Todd fan so she made me stake out the front row with her. It was good, spontaneous fun and here's the picture from my camera phone to prove it:

I just realized...

After years of thinking that every pair of glasses I own is crooked, I've started to think that maybe it's not the glasses. Maybe it's my ears or my nose that are uneven. Do you think that's possible?

Semi-Famous

Abby was on the front page of the newspaper this morning! Check it out!

It's all relative...

You know it’s been hot when you hear it’s only going to be in the mid to upper 80’s today and you think, “Wow, things are really cooling off around here…” Yesterday, no joke, it was 100 degrees. So compared to that, 85 seems quite pleasant.

So it appears I haven’t updated my blog in a few weeks. Sorry about that. I’ve been busy all around. First off, I’ve been busy at work (and let’s face it, work is where I get most of my blogging done) and I’ve had a lot going on outside of work, too. Pete (#1) came to visit last weekend and on top of that, I’ve been involved with a lot of activities with my pseudo dating club. I joined a kickball team that plays on Monday nights (we are called the Chotchkies and are thus far undefeated!) and on Tuesdays I’ve been going to the foreign language group meetings at a bar that has a bottomless wineglass happy hour. It’s amazing how much better I am at speaking a foreign language (any foreign language) after a few glasses of wine…

The pseudo dating club also has a weekly happy hour. I haven’t gone yet but I’m going to check it out this Friday, based on the recommendations of my fellow foreign-language speakers. I’m not quite sure who started this whole group but it’s a wonderful thing. Everyone in it is either like me (just uprooted and moved to Boulder) or has lived in Boulder for a while and is very gregarious. It’s the perfect combination!

It’s a funny social scene though and it reminds me a bit of college, all of these people around the same age looking for things to do, hanging out, etc. Only this time, we have money and can buy good beer. : )

The emancipation of Pete #3

Pete #3 made it outside today. He is currently positioned next to Suzzie, the plant that I "liberated" from the Republic of Boulder. Those two seem to have a special bond.

When you have children, at some point you probably learn to accept that they will be hurt in life but holding them back from trying things will only hurt them more. When you have a garden gnome, you learn to accept that he will be stolen but keeping him inside robs him of his "life".

With that in mind, I wrote a little note and taped it to the inside of Pete #3's left boot before I set him free. The note reads:

Hi.

My name is Pete #3. I'm excited about our adventure together! However, please keep in mind that I am very important to my owners and would like to return home some day.

Thanks!

Pete #3

Dating service in disguise

I think I may have inadvertently joined a pseudo-dating service.

A few weeks ago, I met this girl named Day while I was out walking my dog. We got to talking about my situation (I recently located to boulder, for those of you who don’t know) and she told me to join the Boulder Lunch Group . She said it was a great way to meet people and I could also sign up for a kickball team, via the group.

The way it works is that you sign up on the website, create a profile, upload a picture, and join some groups. So… I created my pithy profile, uploaded a cute but not too cute picture, and joined the kickball club (I’m on a team and the season starts in two weeks!), the foreign language club (I’m going to a French conversation group on Tuesday), the book club (man, I really need to buy that book…), and some other random things.

The BLG’s website specifically says that it’s not intended to be a dating service (though dating does occur). I’m thinking they may need to put a stipulation about pseudo-dating as well. Earlier this week, I got an email from a random (male) member of the group that said “I would be happy to meet you out for a drink or something and hopefully add another friend to the list.”

Um, yeah. Is that what the kids are calling it these days? And are you asking random men that you’ve never met to be your “friend?” My guess would be no.

I didn’t write the guy back – I just sighed and rolled my eyes but it really is too much and it makes me wonder what happened to honesty. I’m an honest person and I’m very big on believing the things that people tell me. However, I’m starting to see that this often causes problems when the person telling me things is male. It seems these days, guys (or at least the guys around me) expect me to hear the words they aren’t saying and ignore the ones they are. But I don’t work that way.

So if you’re telling me that you want to be my friend or your telling me that you’ll always want to be with your ex-girlfriend or you’re telling me you think you’re a woman trapped in a man’s body, I’m going to believe what you’re telling me and I shouldn’t be blamed for that.

Question of the day...

I don't want this to come off as whinny as it's probably going to but, is there anyone out there that doesn't think I'm a horrible person? over the past few days, a few people (and people I happen to care about tremendously) have seemed to suggest I might be less than stellar as people go. so if any of you our there happen to disagree, please do me a favor and let me know.

umm...

really strange but I think I just broke up with my mom...

Movie Moments

I've often thought it's not what happens to you in life that matters, it's how you crop the image/frame the shot that makes the difference. The other day, I had one of those moments in the movie of my life into which one could symbolically read meaning by cropping the story to focus in on these specific details. Here's what happened:

I bought a packet of seeds a few weeks ago to plant in this ugly metal planter that's on my balcony. I've never grown anything from scratch before but my mom told me these were good plants to start out with (I think they're called nasturtium). I threw a few seeds in the dirt and checked on them each day to see if they were sprouting. Days, then weeks went by and nothing ever grew. I was convinced the seeds were dead (or had never been alive). I gave up. Stopped watering. Stopped checking.

But the other day, I was gazing out my window while talking on the phone and I noticed a little green sprout poking through the dirt. I rushed outside to have a look and sure enough, things are growing. Two things, to be exact. It was that moment in the movie, the turning point, when you realize that even though things looked bleak, it's all going to be okay.

This, however, could change if the plants get eaten by something or perish in a late season snow storm. But for now, it's looking good.

Totally unrelated, the Thursday night cruiser ride (about 100+ people in crazy costumes, on crazy bikes, making tons of noise) is crusing past my apartment right now and Abby is scared to death. I have a story about how I went on the cruiser ride a few weeks ago, got a little tipsy and ended up "liberating" a medium-sized potted plant from a bar but that's a story for another time.

I'm talking to you. Yeah, that's right - YOU.

A few of YOU have given me feedback that YOU prefer when I talk directly to YOU in my posts. So here YOU go. Just wanted to let YOU know.

Observation of the Day

Approximately 50% of the men in Boulder shave their legs more often than I do.

If the shoe fits

If the shoe fits, wear it, or so the saying goes. And sometimes, even when the shoe doesn't fit you still need to wear it. That's the case with these:



The size 9 was a little too small but the size 10 was definitely too big. They don't make a 9.5 and I have no idea why. I also have no idea why I love the shoes but I do. I just do. And so even though they don't exactly fit, I've decided to keep them. Pete (#1) hates these shoes, even though he's never seen them in person. There's a chance his intense dislike of the shoes has fueled my love for them but I like to think I'm above that. And for what it's worth, Pete #3 tells me he's quite fond of them.

I've come to the conclusion that as long as I don't wear them when I'm planning to do a lot of walking, I should be fine. Makes sense to me. So far, I've only worn them around the apartment but I'm thinking they'll make their public debut later this week. (Pete #3 has yet to make his.)

You know you're a Boulderite if...

you feel a little lazy because the only exercise you got yesterday was a 90 minute power yoga class.

The next thing you know, I'm going to become one of those people who, when you tell them that you went for a five mile run, responds by saying, "Five miles, that's good. But you should really think about doing some long runs." (Though nobody I know fits that description...)

Times like these...

Sometimes I wish there were chocolate-chip cookie vendors wandering the hallways of IBM...

You and Me

I've been having a bit of blog angst because I can never decide whether I should be writing as if I'm talking to you (and by "you" I mean the four people that read my blog) or if I should write as if I'm talking to myself. It's a little confusing...

Maybe I should be writing as if I'm talking to Pete #3.

btw, I bought Pete #3 a few weeks ago and have yet to put him outside. I'm afraid that someone is going to steal him from my balcony/porch/whatever-it-is. I think that school is officially over for the summer and the students are beginning to depart so the chances of drunken hijinks involving my gnome are decreasing ever day. But still, I'm worried about him. Out there. Alone at night. Then again, is it fair to keep Pete #3 inside, locked away from his natural environment?

To compromise, he's been sitting on my kitchen table, next to some pink tulips I bought the other day. And I swear, day by day, he's been moving closer to the flowers. Maybe he's trying to tell me something.

My new toy

Some of you have asked to see some pictures of Boulder in all it's glory so here ya go (compliments of my new digital camera):


taken from the park across the street from my apartment...

What to do...

It's about noon on a sunny, Saturday afternoon. I'm still in my pajamas and have no plans of going anywhere any time soon. I'm not sure why this is happening but I've noticed that I'm becoming increasingly lazier on weekends, lazier than I've ever been before. Sure, as an undergrad I would sleep until 11:00 am but once I was up, chances are I'd actually DO something with myself.

I think my laziness may come from the fact that everyone in Boulder is so un-lazy. The other night I was talking to Pete (Pete = Pete #1, all the others are referred to by number) and he asked me if anyone in Boulder sits on the couch and eats donuts. I said I didn't think so... I'm not sure Boulder even has a donut shop (unless you count "Tastefully Toasted", the custom-made donut shop that, rumor has it, is just a front for drug dealers...) I've occasionally seen donuts at the grocery store down the street from my apartment but I'm beginning to think that donuts, like lounging around, only exist here on cloudy days (which around here, don't exist too often). I walked to the store early this morning, hoping for a donut but there were no donuts to be found. I guess this is a sign that I'm supposed to be out hiking up some mountain, traversing the continental divide, or maybe joining in on a leisurely triathlon but damnit, I just want a donut with vanilla icing and pink sprinkles. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently it is. There will be no donut in my life today but there will be a run or some distance yet to be determined. In fact, from now until the second week of August, there will be a run (and no donut) in my life on most days. Somehow, I've been talked into doing the Wild West Relay, which goes from Ft. Collins to Steamboat Springs. Damn this place.

The answer to all my problems

I found this shirt while I was out shopping over the weekend. I think I should wear it any time I'm out with anyone (guy or girl) and there's pseudo date potential.

Happy Worker

I know that one of the reasons you people love me is because I'm not afraid of putting embarrassing pictures of myself out there for the world to see. So... here's a picture of me at work. The picture was taken last summer (hence the longer hair and the tan) but the general feeling that goes along with it is still the same...

Today at work, I took a trip to Target during lunch to pick up supplies for my new favorite hobby: gardening. I still haven't planted anything but damnit, I'm ready! While in the gardeing section, I saw a little gnome peering at me from behind the tiki torches. It's almost as if he was calling my name and so I bought him. He was the most expensive purchase of the day and the heaviest, too. This little old lady (probably the only little old lady in Boulder county) was checking me out at the register. When she got to the gnome (whom I have decided to name Pete #3), she picked him up and said (in her little old lady voice), "Oh my, that's a heavy gnome. Wonder how get got so heavy? Maybe from drinking too much beer or things like that..." It was so cute I wanted to hug her.

Never disappointing

Is it possible to have a bad day when you're listening to Madonna: The Immaculate Collection?

It's the latest craze: Pseudo Dating

People who have known me for a while and know the craziness of my life, help me out with this one: Why is it that I consistently find myself "pseudo dating" (meaning the guy thinks we're dating and I have no clue that we are)?

It's a problem. I'm obviously doing something wrong and I'd like to stop.

And if you're someone that I've pseudo dated, your comments will be extra valuable!

Even the dog's confused.

The weather in Colorado, though beautiful, can best be described as manic depressive. But wait... that's not an acceptable term anymore so I guess I'll have to say "bi-polar." A guy that I work with, Mel, tells me that Colorado really only has two seasons, summer and winter. Instead of spring and fall, we spend about three months flickering between the two extremes before the switch finally gets set to "on" for either or. Case in point: it was 80 degrees on Sunday and yesterday it snowed. There's a good inch or two out there right now but I'm told that tomorrow will be sunny and near 70 again. The change is kind of nice because I got to pull out my blue, puffy jacket again (in Boulder, we love our puffy jackets!) but it's all a little confusing for me and Abby. She generally likes the white stuff and eats as much of it as she can. But last night, she seemed too confused to eat any.

Anyway, if you're planning to come visit, be aware that it can snow here at any point, in any month. Yippee.

Can't stop

Last week, Neil, who was the best man at Marisa's wedding and is also Matt and Marisa's roommate, sent me a link to this game called Text Twist and I'm COMPLETELY addicted. I'm not going to pass the link on to you because it's just too dangerous and I've already corrupted one of my friends.

Speaking of which, Cara, I'm so sorry. I hope you're able to finish the semester, make it out of your apartment, etc. Please forgive me.

Like a gangsta...

It's approximately 9:30 am on Saturday, April 15 and I just finished my taxes. It's uncharacteristic of me to wait this long. Generally, I file my taxes with Ned Flanders-like promptness and have my refund in hand well before most others have even opened their W2's. I would always react with smug shock and horror when, at the end of March friends would say they still needed to do their taxes. "You still need to do your taxes? I already have my refund!" I'd say and laugh condescendingly. But this year, it was me they were laughing at.

I'm not sure why I waited so long. But I did. And I'm going to tell you, I might do it again. There's a certain sense of excitement that goes along with cutting it so close to the deadline. Let's face it, at this point in my life filing my taxes late is the closest I'm going to come to getting into trouble with "the man" and it was slightly thrilling to me, wondering if I would be able to slip in under the deadline, thinking about the disappointment on Uncle Sam's face when I did. No penalty from me this year, haha!

In all fairness, I'm not completely last minute. It's still incredibly early in the day so there's plenty of time to get my envelopes post-marked. (My sister has, on more than one occasion, been part of the midnight line at the post-office. You know, the one they always show on the news.) And because April 15 is on a Saturday this year, taxes aren't technically due until Monday. But for me, this is something and I'm going to spend the rest of the day feeling like a gangsta. I wonder what I'd look like with a gold tooth...

Post-work workout

There are bunch of differernt trails that run through the Sanitas valley, just a few blocks from my apartment, the most popluar of which is the Mt. Sanitas trail. People call it "the butt trail" because it's so steep that your butt muscles get a good workout on your way to the top. (Just some trivia for you...) So anyway, my officemate (Sue) and I went for a run on some of the trails after work today. We skipped the butt trail but ran along a ridge (on the Dakota Ridge trail) to the top of, well, I guess it was a mini-mountain, overlooking some super swanky homes in Boulder. We rested a bit at the top and then ran back through the valley as the sun was starting to set behind the mountains. Coming down the trail, you get a fantastic view of the flatirons and the front range and I don't know if it was the endorphins or the fantastic weather or what but man, this place is beautiful.

one more thing...

I find it interesting that the spell check for blogger.com (the site that hosts this blog) does not recognize the word "blog".

Phew

You know you've been traveling too much (and sleeping too little) when you get off the plane and, for just a few minutes, you honestly have no idea what city you're in...

I got back from Marisa's wedding on Monday and I think I'm still recovering. The wedding was absolutely beautiful (and Marisa was a beautiful bride). If I had happened to remember to bring a camera with me, I'd share pictures. (Honestly, I promise to be better about that...)

Anyway, I should really be sleeping (or doing my taxes - my god, I haven't finished them yet! Am I the only one? Please, please, someone else be a slacker too...) but since it's been so long since I've updated the blog, I just wanted to. I'll do my taxes tomorrow...

You can't escape Pottery Barn.

I use catalogues as a form of relaxation, the way some people use television, or knitting, or alcohol, or whatever. Turning the pages, staring at the beautiful things for sale, and thinking about my life with them takes me out of my own for a bit and we all need a bit of that every now and then.

The move has been a bit traumatic for me because although the post office will forward virtually everything else, they won't forward your catalogues. (Apparently, the post master general doesn't share my love of catalogue window shopping or s/he'd realize how important these things are.) For two months now, I've been catalogue-less and it's starting to wear on me. A few days ago, I went online and requested some catalogues to try to get my life back to its normal state. I thought about the billions of catalogues I used to get (even for me there were too many) and I decided to only request catalogues from which I thought I might buy something. I requested only two cataloges (it's a start) and one of them was decidedly not Pottery Barn. I have been getting the Pottery Barn catalogue for years and I have never purchased anything from it. And because I know that I am not going to buy anything from the catalogue, I don't even look at it anymore. I decided I just don't need it in my life.

So you can imagine my shock when I opened my mailbox today and saw an envelope from Pottery Barn that said, "Welcome to the neighborhood!" on the outside. And guess what was inside? Yep, a catalogue. You just can't get away from them, can you?

And I'm beginning to worry... How do they know that I moved? It's a little creepy, don't you think? So I'm wondering... is there anyone out there that doesn't get the pottery barn catalogue or is just me that they're stalking?

Hibernating?

Those of you who read my blog last summer probably remember me writing about all the crazy people I encountered in Boulder. What's been strange is that hasn't happened yet. I've been here for almost two months and I haven't had any strange encounters. (And everybody I've seen on a bike has been fully clothed.) I was starting to think that maybe all the eccentric Boulderites were hibernating for the winter. But I was wrong. They're actually living in my building.

Last Sunday, Jessica, my upstairs neighbor was having dinner for some of her friends and she invited me to join in. One of her friends is Jeremy, who also lives in the building. They gave me the run down on the other tennants and here's how it goes:

There's me (who works at IBM). Jessica who's a Ph.D. student at the University of Colorado doing some crazy geology stuff. Jeremy is a lawyer who works at the university and the girl who lives below me is an undergrad. There's a random old couple in the building. And here's where it gets interesting...

A 22 year-old professional snowboarder will be moving in soon. Across the hall from her live two stoner guys. One's named John and the other I've never. John and roommate used to own their own flax seed cracker company but it didn't go so well so now they work at a doggy day care in Boulder (the most populare doggy day care in Boulder, from what I'm told).

A hardcore Christian couple lives above the stoners. They just had a baby and do laundry constantly.

My next door neighbor is a tennis pro. He's about 35 now (and having a birthday party in a few weeks) but apparently when he was a student at the University of Colorado, he was a legendary partier and got the nickname "Disco Doug" because he used to wear leisure suits to all of his parties. His parties were supposedly so good that the local newspaper used to write articles about them and, from what I've heard, he has an homage (that's right, I said homage) to his party days in the hallway of his apartment.

And then there's Robyn... Robyn is the lesbian, music therapist that lives upstairs and owns two dogs named Jacques and Harry. She just got her masters from Naropa and is an incredibly nice person. And oh yeah, she used to be a man. Rumor has it that each year, she has a birthday party for... um... How can I put this delicately.... for the thing she has that he didn't.

So there you have it - Boulder in a building. My building. It's going to be a fun summer...

Yoga is good for you.

Last night in my yoga class, my teacher decided to tell us a joke to take our minds off the uncomfortable pigeon pose we were in. It was a joke that her mother-in-law had told her and it went like this: What's the difference between a lover, a prostitute, and a wife? The lover says, "slower, slower!" The prostitute says, "faster, faster!" And the wife says, "beige... I think I'll paint the ceiling beige..."


All the women in the class cracked up. Interestingly enough, none of the men did. : )

Snowing more today...

I live across the street from North Boulder Park. It’s basically a giant field with a playground at one end. For the most part, people seem to use the field for Frisbee (people are unusually good at Frisbee around here). I use the field to walk Abby.

We’ve had snow on the ground since Sunday and so now, a group of cross-country skiers has taken over the park. And really, they’ve taken it over. They’ve been out there every time I’ve walked Abby, whether it’s 6:45 in the morning or 11:00 at night, since it started snowing on Sunday. And it’s not just one or two people. Yesterday, when I was out with Abby (before 7:00 am!) there were about ten people out there. And this morning there were about five people out there AND there was a guy on a snowmobile, towing some kind of grooming device so that he could lay down tracks across the park.

All of this is quite disturbing to me.

Abby, on the other hand (or paw,) is fascinated by it. She’s so excited by the people gliding by on their skis that I have to keep her on the leash so that she doesn’t go chasing after them. (Really, I know those of you who know my dog may think that I’m kidding about this one but I’m not.) I also keep her on the leash so that she doesn’t do her thing in the middle of the freshly laid tracks. Even though it seems to be acceptable to let your dog go pretty much anywhere else in Boulder and not scoop, the middle of the trail is still bad etiquette.

Just how bad is it?

On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is it when you're at the mall, on a little shopping spree to celebrate your new job, and, mid-spree, your bank calls to make sure that everything's okay and your credit card hasn't been stolen?

Back in business

Okay, so it's been a while, over a week, since my last blog update but I assure you, I'm not going to stop writing like I did last summer. I got a little distracted because Pete came to visit for a few days last week AND on top of that, I've actually been working at work so no time to post while I'm there (like I'd been doing for the past month or so...)

Pete's visit put my unpacking on hold and so I didn't get the DSL working in my apartment until a few days ago. I just hooked up the wireless and now I'm free to do internet things while watching March Madness. For some reason, I'm very into the March Madness thing this year. In fact, I haven't done much today besides watch basketball.

Earlier in the day, I was very anti-Duke but now, I think I'm impartial to Duke and have turned anti-Gonzaga. There's just something about their main guy, Adam Morrison, that really bugs me. But look at me, acting like it's something I can't quite put my finger on. I know exactly what it is that bugs me. It's the bad facial hair, the really bad regular hair, and the all-too-often beating of the basketball against his head. The guy's an idiot. I bet he owns a pair of crocs and if I had to guess the color, I'd go with orange. (But mind you, I'm certainly not saying that all people who wear orange are idiots. Just people who wear orange crocs...)

welcome to Colorado!

it seems that in Colorado, everything is more extreme: the landscape, the people, and especially the weather. Sue, my officemate is constantly complaining about how the seasons are anything but discrete around here and I have to say that I agree. Mel, a guy that I work with (who, by the way, looks exactly like Steve Martin) says that Colorado only has two seasons, summer and winter, and you spend most of the year zig zagging between the two. case in point: yesterday it was 70 and sunny. today we're getting 4 - 8 inches of snow.

right now, there's more rain out there than snow but regardless of form, there's precipitation in the air and that is a beautiful thing! it's so nice to be breathing in moist air as opposed to the dust I was dealing with yesterday. for the first time in a long time, the humidity has made it out of the teens!

this is only the second time we've had any kind of precipitation since I've been here and I've been here for over a month now. it's strange to say but I think I miss the cloudy, dreary skies of the east. of course, that's probably because I don't have to deal with them anymore. : )

What's the deal?

They say that everything in the world is constantly moving toward a state of equilibrium, a state of balance. I think that might be true. I moved into my new apartment about a week ago. My stuff moved in this past Friday. And I keep going back and forth between thinking that my apartment is in a state of pure chaos and thinking that it’s all under control, between thinking that there’s too much to watch on TV and thinking that there’s nothing on. I think that neither side is right and neither side is wrong. There is both chaos and order in my apartment right now (there’s stuff all over the kitchen table but I’m quite pleased with the way I organized my bake ware). And there are both things to watch on TV and things to avoid. Sometimes, these things are one and the same, like that new show “Deal/No Deal.” It’s horrible. And I just don’t get it at all. And that’s exactly why I can’t stop watching it.