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!