Thanks

Somewhere, deep down inside, I found the strength to save a friendship. I found the part of me that needed to let go of frustrations and indignities and hurt, and I found the courage to move on and salvage a relationship I love. I have also found it apropos to thank whoever it is I should thank for these next few weeks - they are precious.

My dad celebrates another birthday tomorrow. I didn't know last year how much this year would hang in the balance, but it has; I think we will all blow out the candles together and cross our fingers for moments of joy.

I am utterly grateful to the man that taught me how to go after what I want, to take nothing for granted, to protect what's important and to never sell myself short. I love you and I will miss you...and I feel as though an important chapter in my life is closing.

My marriage and my cats turn four. I know that five is somehow symbolic of a milestone, but I choose to think that four years are a milestone in and of themselves. Four years - four of us. It fits.

For all of the holidays, the celebrations, the good-byes, the good-lucks, the welcomes and the I-miss-yous, here's hoping that I can say what I feel to those that need to hear it.

Take all of your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all of your so-called problems,
Better put ‘em in quotations

Say what you need to say

Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you’d be better off instead,
If you only could . . .

Say what you need to say

Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You’d better know that in the end
Its better to say too much
Then never say what you need to say again

Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say

-John Mayer

What's with the Mondays?

Here it is again...another disappointment for the home team. Without too many details, let's just say that a) people aren't who they seem to be, b) never trust a stranger from Craig's List (it seems so obvious, doesn't it?) and c) optimism does occasionally set you up for disaster.

So anyway, the treadmill guy never showed and didn't have the balls to call me about it. He sent me an email late last night and was all "the wife wanted to shop around" and "we decided on a different one." Blah blah. Tell me you don't want it and get it over with so I can go about my day and not sit around the house waiting for a phone call. Ugh, the lack of manners never ceases to amaze me.

Then I show up for work and the first words I hear (yet again) are, "Oh, you didn't know that?" If I had a dollar for every time I heard that over the last four months, I swear I could retire. No lie. While loose lips might sink ships, secrets certainly don't make friends. So I guess the question is - do you want a ship or a friend? Marinate on that one for a bit.

In other news, I somehow bent the key to the Pathfinder and almost couldn't leave at lunchtime. That would've been super bad since BB has the wagon in Goldsboro and the spare key to the Pathy with him. Bad news bears. I shoved it in there far enough to at least turn the engine over, but almost couldn't get it out. There's a reason 10 year-old cars with 175,000 miles on them end up being the third-car-we-don't-drive-but-keep-around-for-hauling-stuff-in.

Also in other news, I logged into Facebook this weekend and found this whole other world that I forgot that I belong to. (No, not the Facebook world, the world of I-used-to-know-you-when.) The world is getting smaller and smaller and people that I know also know other people that I didn't know they knew, and well, it gets confusing. I remember now why I went to Sweet Briar and lived in DC for a bit. It's that whole clean slate thing. When the world I live in gets too small, claustrophobia sends me packing. Might have to delete the profiles on Facebook and MySpace.

Somehow the lady that cleans our offices has gotten the impression that I am interested in her bowling league. I really don't know where that came from, nor do I know anything about bowling. But I've started getting weekly updates on her "frames" and "anchor bowlers" and "scratch" games. Seriously with this? I used to fake phone calls when I'd hear her coming down the hall, but she caught me with her silent sneakers today. I never had a chance.

And finally, thanks for asking, the bangs are...bangs. They're fine for now, but probably I won't get them cut again. I always think they'll be magical, but they just never are. Oh well. Live and learn.

Red, red wine, you make me feel so fine...

Happy Sunday! Want to know why it's happy? Oh, sure you do. Let me tell you about it...and the rest of my weekend.

1. Today is the day that some strange man who found me on Craig's List comes to my house to buy the treadmill! Yay! (Quick backstory: I thought I would use a treadmill every single day if I bought one. So I did, from my co-worker. I didn't tell Brian. He got mad, because I don't use it and because it weighs more than our house and he had to move it. So he made me put it on Craig's List. I'm getting rid of the damn thing, but I'm also upping the price - if I can't keep it, I should at least make a profit on it.)

2. My weekend has been all kinds of full of Anne P. Friday night - deliciously fun. Saturday afternoon - surprise phone call with invitation to spaghetti dinner. Saturday night - more delicious fun in a stunningly beautiful house. I might have to stalk that family, if only for their back porch. Brian wouldn't miss me if I moved there, I don't think. I should move there.

3. I poisoned Heather. It wasn't on purpose, because I like Heather very much. But one minute she's all happy and drinky, and the next minute she's all sick and green. The only thing that happened in between the two was a meal I made for her. Who knew I had the power to inflict illness? She says it wasn't the food, but I wonder...

4. This weekend in April is always one of my favorites. It's Cotillion (which I'm not invited to but still enjoy because I get to pick out fun clothes for my mamacita) and the Masters. Azaleas, warm weather, green everywhere you look, happy drunk people wandering around Smithfield. What's not to love? It's a reminder that spring has sprung. Oh, and go Immelman! You be sure and beat the pants off that Tiger Woods - he has too many green jackets for one man's closet already.

5. I am covered, and I mean covered, in ant bites. Friday night while we were sitting on the patio, I apparently stepped in a giant ant hill and stayed there. And with all the red wine coursing through my veins, I didn't feel the bites until yesterday morning. The itching is akin to poison ivy and I can't find a thing to alleviate it. (And don't email me to tell me to take Benadryl. Nothing has touched these babies.) My feet and ankles look like I have a terrible case of chicken pox, and it's taking every ounce of willpower I have not to scratch. And scratch. And scratch.

Must go scratch now. And prepare the treadmill for it's final destination. Here's to you, the end of my favorite weekend in April; stay sunny, warm and lovely.

The Charmed Life

For the past two days, I've been trying to write this blog and nothing comes out like I want it to. Witty ends up sounding bratty, sarcasm sounds just plain rude and chipper comes across as condescending. Don't ask me...it's just the way it is. Normally when I'm like this I just write a list, but even my list isn't working.

My boss is leaving to take a dean's position at another college. I'm sad because our relationship has taken a drastic tumble ever since Christmas and we're not speaking unless absolutely necessary. I think about it every day, he probably never thinks about it, and I'm mourning the loss of a good friend, a great mentor and wonderful leader. And I have no one to talk to about that and the changes that are coming. Normally I would talk to him. But now...

BB and I are going to the beach in May. My MIL has rented a tiny little oceanfront house for us for 5 days as a birthday gift to Brian. I'm so excited, but also wondering if there are ulterior motives here. Last year he got a shirt.

The cruise is six weeks from today. I have six weeks to figure out spray tans, grippy flip flops and dinner attire. I will be off for almost two out of the four weeks of May. We go to the beach, come home, I unpack, re-pack and then head to Miami. June and July are going to be awfully boring. Kristen? Alissa? Anyone? Visit? Please?

Tonight I get to see Anne. The ways in which I love her are too numerous to mention, as is the amount of booze we will consume together. Heather's coming with me - if she and Anne don't get along for some strange reason, my friendship with Heather will meet its unfortunate demise. But I feel sure that they'll be BFFs. It's impossible not to adore Anne.

And finally, I'm considering bangs. It's a big decision for a girl like me. I have an appointment at 12:30. Wish me luck.

The Cynic Olympics

You know you know them. Those people that on the outside look normal, but on the inside, are really just swirling cauldrons of cynicism and irony and negativity. My life has suddenly become inundated with such people and I'm not quite sure how to rid myself of them.

It's one thing to be all witty and sarcastic and ironic. It is quite another to become a wet blanket in conversation. I really feel as though I'm too old to deal with persistent cynics on a case-by-case basis, so if you are one and plan to spend much time around me, here are some ground rules.

1. Do not underestimate the power of bubbly. No, I don't mean champagne; I mean being outgoing and friendly and inherently full of cheer. I am bubbly. Don't take away my bubbles. They are important to me.

2. Not every conversation I have with you is meant to be an argument. I have an opinion and so do you, but it is not necessary for you to take your opinion, whack me with it and then force it down my throat. It's just not nice.

3. Your sunny demeanor confuses me. It has fooled me into thinking that you actually are sunny, when in fact, you just appear that way. For the benefit of those around you, knock it off with the Pollyanna and just be the sourpuss we all know that you are.

Whew! I feel so much better. Now if I could just email this list of guidelines to all the cynics I know, I'd be in great shape. You don't think they'd be offended, do you?

Really? They make those?

Today was a good day. It began with sleeping in, all the way until 7:30, which is lovely. Then I had a nice conversation with my professor on the phone, where we discovered that I might know a little more about what I'm doing in this class than I originally thought. Always good. And then Lindsey came! I tried to point her past the clutter in my house, as she hasn't seen it since before the wedding and I wanted it to at least not look like a bachelor pad. I'm not sure that I succeeded, but I digress.

So we went to lunch, sat outside, munched on some chips, enjoyed some good convo. And then we went shopping.

I'll preface this by saying that Lindsey is pregnant with her second child, who I'm hoping turns out to be a girl. She's due in September, and I'm also hoping that she picks my birthday for the baby's arrival date, so that she and I will be exactly 30 years apart, but we'll see. Anyway, on to the story. So we go shopping for a bra for Lindsey, because it seems that your boobs get big when you're expecting. I see one of my students there, I'm secretly hoping that she gives me an employee discount like my other student does at Kmart, but no such luck. So we find a bra, or three or four, and that's that.

We're about to leave when Lindsey spots a maternity clothing store, so we decide to pop in. And then I see it. An entire section of tops, from tanks to tees to sports bras, all devoted to nursing mothers. Now maybe this isn't odd to you. Maybe you have kids, or are aware of the whole fact that nursing tops are specially designed. I, however, was not. Probably I just thought that you either wore a v-neck or a button down, and strategically positioned yourself for maximum lunchtime portability.

These things are nuts! There are these little clippy things attached to the strap, and, as Lindsey demonstrated for me, you just pop them off and wham! Easy access. I mean, I get the whole thing about how you don't want to disrobe completely when you're nursing, but I had no idea that there were such things as this. And they don't just come in bras; there were cute little sleeveless tops, tops with sleeves but with built-in easy access areas, dresses, and the list goes on!

But the best part of all is that in maternity stores, there are these strap on bellies in the dressing room. Like if you're two months pregnant but want to buy clothes for when you're 8 months pregnant, you just strap on this cushion thing and try stuff on! I mean, who thinks of this stuff?! I guess it's smart, but not being on the pregnant bandwagon myself, I just didn't know these things existed. But apparently they do, and I guess pregnant people are glad. So...yay. For the pregnant people. My favorite moment was when Lindsey, who isn't really showing, pulled the strap-on baby around her waist and I noticed it was lumpy. (Not her belly, the strap-on one.) Hopefully real baby bellies aren't that lumpy, because it looked like this thing needed to be re-cushioned. Like my chair.

So now I'm in class, still laughing to myself over the drunk kid who had to be carried out of school and put into a cab this afternoon, and lamenting because I missed it all. But then I remember that while I missed that, I did get to see Lindsey wear a fake baby belly, and that makes it alllll good.

Breaking News: I'm a baaaaad student

Oops. I just got an email. Well, four of them, actually. It seems that I don't know the difference between an annotated bibliography and a literature review. (Oh please, like you did.) Also, it seems that I haven't checked my ECU email in a while, and I'm supposed to moderate a discussion on Blackboard uh, this week. Which means that I'm supposed to have already read roughly 150-200 pages on empirical evaluations of concept mapping, information design principles, and visual-based modules for teaching writing. Oops.

So tonight, while BB's in class reading his own share of crap on accounting principles and spreadsheets, I'll be tucked into my chair, cat at my feet, crying into my...Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi...because I'm behind. And also because frankly, I don't know what visual-based teaching modules are. The worst part of it all is that I don't care. (Yes, yes..."It's not that I'm lazy. It's that I just don't care.") I mean, yes, I care about getting my degree, because it means more money and I like money, true. But I don't care about research in technical and professional communication, nor do I care about discussion boards or projects or comprehensive exams.

A little bit I want to quit. But then, I don't like to be a quitter. Unless it comes to things like teaching night classes. Boy, would I love to be a quitter then. The unfortunate thing about quitting is that I'll just have to take the class over again, and who wants to subject themselves to more semesters of Research Methods than they have to? Certainly not me.

Other breaking news:

One of my co-workers got arrested last week for leading police on a high-speed chase. I kid you not.

Also, my brother got some fish to add to his animal kingdom and it got me thinking: should I get some fish for my office? I contemplated this for a while until my mom asked me what I'd do with them over the weekend. Can fish live without food for a weekend? I'm going to investigate this, and I'll get back to you.

I don't come in a decaf version

My caffeine addiction is slowly spiraling out of control, and I find that when I deprive myself of the joy and love that is found in some sort of diet drink, my head wreaks havoc upon the rest of my body. That's probably not good, huh? Anyway, these are things racing through my caffeinated head this Monday morning.

1. During the desperation I felt Saturday night watching the Carolina-Kansas game, there was one bright spot, albeit a very important one. Somewhere, some wonderfully talented camera man panned over the Dean Dome and found a banner that said "Take everthing. Give up nothing." That is my new mantra, my motto for life. Take everything. Give up nothing. A little bit it makes me sound like I'm going to shoplift, but actually it means that world domination is not quite as far away as I thought. Fabulous.

2. It rained the entire time during our trip to Morehead City. This did not stop us from consuming large amounts of fish and stocking up on seafood to cook at home. It did stop us from going over the causeway and wandering around on the beach. Very sad.

3. In other news from Morehead City, we went to the "PERSIST" conference, which was basically a day-long training session on how to retain and graduate some students. The "training team" was comprised of all these TRiO directors and some chick who used to be a Senior VP at NBC Universal and Lorimar Pictures. Explain that one to me. Bizarre connection. I wanted to ask her how come she didn't work for them anymore, and if she still had connections that would get "Chuck" back on the air sooner, but I didn't.

4. Brian thinks it's strange, and maybe it is, but I can't stand whistling. It grates on my nerves, it rattles my insides, it makes my ears quiver. And right now, as I'm typing, some jackass down the hall is whistling. I think the caffeine makes it worse...

5. I read "The Appeal" and "Compulsion" this weekend. Quality stuff, though "The Appeal" had a rotten ending.

Happy Monday to all, and to all a good...day. I'm off to pretend as though I like my job and my boss juuuuust fine, thank you.

Bletiquette

Edit: I just Googled "bletiquette" and now I see that Susan isn't the first to come up with that word. However, I still think that she is the greatest of all time.

It's a new word. I can't take credit for it, but Susan can. "Bletiquette" hereafter refers to the etiquette of blogging, for both bloggers and readers. Here's how the convo went:

Susan: "Yeah, I saw that on your blog! Can people respond to that?"

Me: "Sure. You can leave comments, or email me."

Susan: "Ohhhh...because I don't know the etiquette for blogging. The "bletiquette!"

Me: "Great word. I love it when you can combine two words like that."

Susan: "Sometimes, when my students, like 2 or 3 of them, sit together, I combine their names. Like Heather and Brittany are Hittany. Or Breather."

Me: "That's such a great idea! Like Brangelina."

Susan: "Absolutely, like Brangelina. Or bletiquette. I love that."

See, Susan's like my girl soulmate. Sometimes we talk about how we're the same person, just born a few years apart. She's an awesome mom, and the kind I hope to be should, you know, that ever happen. (Ex: She recently said that the biggest parenting mistake she has made is letting her 13 year-old watch "Knocked Up." Priceless!) Plus, she's super smart and really aggressive but not in an obnoxious way. And she loves to talk a lot, but what she has to say is important! Or at least, it's important to me.

So basically I think that if I were to have a big sister that I got along with, she'd be it. Susan's the kind of friend that really and truly doesn't care about the size of your dust bunnies, because probably hers are bigger. She's the kind of friend that will show up with large grocery bags and say that while she didn't have time to cook for you, it doesn't mean she wasn't thinking of you. And she's the kind of friend that makes up fun words, with a serious face, and will probably use those words in class tomorrow.

If you don't have one of these friends, you should get one, posthaste. (Also a fun word.) And then you should make ample opportunities for the both of you to get together and discuss the ways in which you are alike, smart, and ready to dominate the world with your powers.

I'm hungry...for good books

I love books. I love the way they smell, feel, look. I love how they're lined up on my bookshelves. Yes, I'm weird, but you know what I'm talking about. A good, new hardback is as exciting to me as a plateful of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. I have discovered that new releases on Amazon can also possibly be found in the community college system's Interlibrary Loan. Do you know how happy it makes my wallet to know that I'm not paying for a slew of new releases? Although I have to admit, my bookshelves look gorgeous when filled with perfectly conditioned spines of colorful paper. Here's a rundown of my "on hold" account through ILL.

1. The Other Boleyn Girl - Philippa Gregory
2. Deep Dish - Mary Kay Andrews
3. Remember me? - Sophie Kinsella
4. Everyone Else's Girl - Megan Crane
5. Compulsion : an Alex Delaware novel - Jonathan Kellerman
6. The Devil's Bones - Jefferson Bass
7. Carved in Bone - William Bass
8. Beautiful boy : A father's journey through his son's addiction - David Sheff
9. Tweak : (growing up on methamphetamines) - Nic Sheff
10. I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley

Read any of these? Let me know how you liked them (or hated them, as it were).