Nerves

I got an e-mail this morning from my buddy who works for the company in Chicago, he was talking the company up and telling me how much he thinks I'd like Chicago. I'm not sure exactly when my interview will be, sometime in late March at their facility in Burns Harbor, Indiana. I'm really trying not to get too excited about this. Maybe I won't get the job, I don't know. I do know that I'm ready for a change. A big one. Last night I was talking to my dad, and I realized I'm finally ready to leave home (not that I still live with my parents, I don't). I've always been a late bloomer, and I thought I just didn't want to leave Colorado, now I know I just wasn't ready. Not ready to move away from my family and friends. Frankly I didn't have too much motivation, Colorado is an amazing place to live. Not ready to grow up and actually get a job. Definitely not ready to settle down and start a life and a family. OK, I'm still not ready for a lot of that, but I am ready to strike out and do my own thing somewhere new. I'm nervous about a lot of things. I'm nervous about making new friends, I've really never had to. I met Jill when we were seven years old, and she's been my best buddy for more than twenty years now. I was sad about her moving to Texas, but I think it was good. I mean, good that she left because I don't know if I'd have been able to leave her. I'm nervous about getting my bearings in a new city, I've lived in Denver my entire life. Talk about sheltered. Denver is safe and quiet and clean. What would I do on the weekends if I couldn't go live at Suzie's house. And how does one go about making new friends anyway? I'm not exactly the most... I'm a little abrasive. People who already know me like me a lot, but strangers, not so much. I'm just not that great at meeting new people. OK, despite all these things I'm still excited to do something... different. Jeez, that's a lot of angst for a Friday morning.

Hmmm

Do you think melted cheese tastes different that cheese that hasn't been melted yet? I can't decide. I know that toast tastes different than bread because toasting the bread actually changes the chemistry. I love toast. But I can't decide about cheese. The texture is different, sure, but the taste? I just don't know.

Is Anyone Else Watching Eli Stone?

I am, and I love it. But I never know because I have terrible taste in TV. The show is super cute, it's pretty funny, there is the occasional campy singing montage. There is something else I really liked, and for the longest time I couldn't put my finger on. Last week I figure it out, the lead character, Eli Stone is played by Jonny Lee Miller. You might recognize the former Mr. Angelina Jolie a.k.a Crash Override a.k.a Zero Cool. Jonny Lee Miller is the stuff that my 15 year old fantasies were made of. Hackers was like, the coolest movie I'd ever seen. You know what I'm talking about.

The Dreaded Orange

Because I spent 70% of the past 48 hours either asleep or half-asleep but buried under the covers in the loveliest of NyQuil induced comas, I work up at the crack of dawn today. I'd have liked to take another sick day, but it just wasn't possible. I'm on a deadline here and I can actually function today- albeit not at maximum efficiency. So with a heavy sigh I stowed the lovely green stuff in the medicine cabinet and reached for the dreaded orange. NyQuil's much derided cousin, DayQuil. Whereas Nyquil allows one to drift off into a dreamy haze before lapsing into a pleasant sleep, DayQuil jacks you up so you can get through your day. I seriously feel like I'm on drugs. I need people to repeat just about every thing they say, experiments are taking twice as long as usual, and forget about actually learning anything in class. I am cracked out.

There's a Light

That awesome job in Chicago might not be out of reach after all. I got an e-mail this afternoon about setting up a second interview! Woohoo!

Date Night? Sick Day.

I was supposed to have a date last night, but I canceled in favor of slowly dying on my couch. We're planning on rescheduling for next week, but I sense a fizzle in the future.

I Got Nothing

I'm too sick to bring any sort of funny or interesting to the table today. Instead I'll share our pictures from Saturday night. I. Look. Rough. That is what happens when you chance plans mid stream. We'd decided to stay in, we drank champagne and sang along with George Michael. Four or five bottles later we decided to walk up to the PS Lounge and then on to Rock Bar. I guess I found that big foam hat on the ground. And then decided to wear it. On my head. Rough. We probably should have stayed in. We weren't really in any kind of shape to be around other people. These definitely usurp the title of worst pictures ever from the pics from the shower.

Bleech!

What I wouldn't give for a bowl of matzo ball soup and some cherry 7-up right now. I'm sick, I knew it was coming on last night, I'd hoped that a good night's sleep would K.O. it, but no such luck. I came home from work early today to load up on NyQuil and try to sleep. I drew the blinds, snuggled down on the couch under my huge sleeping bag and threw on a movie. If you haven't seen it, The Last King of Scotland is a great flick. Maybe not the best thing to watch when you're high on the green stuff and trying to sleep. Kind of gory and riveting. After the movie I ate some soup and dug into the huge pile of homework I have been woefully neglecting. I figured if I can't get some actual work done, I could at least make a dent in my homework. Once I got started, I remembered just why I've been in school this long. I love homework. I know, once a dork, always a dork, but I find it so satisfying, especially now after so many courses, a lot of these types of questions aren't new, so I end up feeling like a brilliant genius. I've had just about enough for tonight though, it's about time to hit the bottle again. I wonder if Dune is on On Demand right now? I'm in the mood for the spice.

Freegans

Last night, struck with a terrible bout of insomnia, I was watching some late night TV. I don’t even remember what I was watching, but I do remember the commercial for today’s Oprah show. Now I know that I won’t catch it, because I work and all, but those editors are good. My curiosity is peaked.

The topic is something called Freegans. Have you heard of this?

Some highlights from Freeegan.info, the Freegan website:

“Freegans are people who employ alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources.”

That sounds good right? Let’s read more:

“Freeganism is a total boycott of an economic system where the profit motive has eclipsed ethical considerations and where massively complex systems of productions ensure that all the products we buy will have detrimental impacts most of which we may never even consider. Thus, instead of avoiding the purchase of products from one bad company only to support another, we avoid buying anything to the greatest degree we are able.”

How?

“Perhaps the most notorious freegan strategy is what is commonly called "urban foraging" or "dumpster diving". This technique involves rummaging through the garbage of retailers, residences, offices, and other facilities for useful goods.”

“Anything unusable by us, we redistribute to our friends, at freemarkets, or using internet services like freecycle and craigslist.”

“…freegans choose not to use cars for the most part. Rather, we use other methods of transportation including trainhopping, hitchhiking, walking, skating, and biking. Hitchhiking fills up room in a car that would have been unused otherwise and therefore it does not add to the overall consumption of cars and gasoline.”

“Squatters are people who occupy and rehabilitate abandoned, decrepit buildings. Squatters believe that real human needs are more important than abstract notions of private property, and that those who hold deed to buildings but won’t allow people to live in them, even in places where housing is vitally needed, don’t deserve to own those buildings.”

“Wild foragers demonstrate that we can feed ourselves without supermarkets and treat our illnesses without pharmacies by familiarizing ourselves with the edible and medicinal plants growing all around us. Even city parks can yield useful foods and medicines, giving us a renewed appreciation of the reality that our sustenance comes ultimately not from corporate food producers, but from the Earth itself. Others take the foraging lifestyle even farther, removing themselves from urban and suburban concepts and attempting to "go feral" by building communities in the wilderness based on primitive survival skills.”

“…freegans are able to greatly reduce or altogether eliminate the need to constantly be employed. We can instead devote our time to caring for our families, volunteering in our communities, and joining activist groups to fight the practices of the corporations who would otherwise be bossing us around at work.”

Is it just me or do these people sound, at best a little nuts, but at worst petulant and lazy? I may be a little materialistic, and a lot poor, but I ’m not quitting my job to forage for food in city dumpsters no matter how you spin it.

The Unfortunate Ex Run-in

I was reading Berg With Fries today and it made me think of the most awkward run-in with an ex ever. I was dating this old guy I worked with. Please don't ask what I was thinking. He wasn't particularly funny, fun, successful, interesting, charming, good looking, nice, etc. etc. etc. I have no excuse or even a way to rationalize this one. I don't even remember what I found attractive about him. Maybe I was under a spell. Anyway. One truly beautiful Golden afternoon we were having beers at GCB on the patio. The place gets pretty crowded so I went to grab us seats at a big picnic table while Ugly Old guy went inside to get us some beers. Ugly Old guy comes out with our beers and says "I hope you don't mind, but I met a funny guy while I was waiting in line and invited him and his friends to share our huge table." I thought, not a problem, I love chatting with strangers in Golden. It's a very Golden thing to do. 2 minutes later funny guy from line comes out with his pitchers of beer... and it turns out to be my one ex (the most recent) who had terribly broken my heart. He'd recently knocked up his ex-girlfriend and subsequently married her. Fifteen minutes later all of our old friends from college showed up. Each one made the exact same "Oh!" face when they found us sitting together, but at that point it would have been more awkward to make a big deal out of it and for them to try and find seats elsewhere (there were none anyway). So to recap: Him: recently wed, expecting a baby Me: drinking beer in the afternoon with my Ugly Old (but temporary) new boyfriend He wins.

Sunny Monday Blues

What's worse than Monday morning? A beautiful, sunny, unseasonably warm Monday spent cooped up in a lab with no windows.

Friends and Family

I think my favorite thing about keeping up this blog has been making some new friends and keeping in touch better with old friends. One surprising benefit has been getting back in touch with some old friends. A few weeks ago an old friend Mariah popped up and today she sent me the link to her and Steve's blog, Connors in Doha, about their adventures traveling and living in Doha. I've added it to my friends section over in the sidebar. Saturday Ivory had her baby shower. I must say that for someone stuck on bed rest she looked amazing! Pregnant ladies really do get glowing. I had never met any of Ivory's family or her other friends (who didn't go to Mines), so that was really fun. I have to say that baby shower games are not for me (Ivory posted what might be the worst pictures of me ever on her blog) but finger foods and opening presents and meeting new people is always good. Saturday night Jill and I met my parents at La Cueva (Yum!) for dinner and cocktails. I think my dad was already drunk when we got there. He used the word "dildo" at the dinner table. I'm not even kidding. I could have gone my entire life without my dad referencing any kind of sex toys, especially because he was talking about my sex toys. Gives me the creeping willies.

A Few Things

1) I'm tired. I think I'm still worn out from last weekend, but mostly I'm tired of being in school. In 4 months I'll be done, so... there is a light at the end of this tunnel. 2) I was really excited about this job in Chicago, but I don't think I got it. Now I'll probably have to move to Elko, NV or somewhere equally unappealing. Bleech. I don't know what they are thinking not hiring me, I am quite charming. I'm trying to act like I don't care, but it was a really cool job. 3) My entire research group is leaving for a week to attend a conference in Salt Lake City. I'm not going. The excuses I made include: I have too much work to do and I don't want to miss my classes. The real reasons I'm not going are: I don't want to network with a bunch of old miners, I don't want to miss restaurant week, and I just plain don't want to go. 4) I can't stop flossing my teeth. I am totally addicted. First thing in the morning, before I go to bed. It's all I can do not to bust out some floss in the middle of the day. Can you over floss? Could this habit be harmful? 5) Ivory's baby shower is this weekend, and though usually baby showers are my own personal idea of hell, I'm really looking forward to it. Or I am, at the very least, trying to trick myself into believing that. What I'm really dreading is the trip to Babies 'R Us that I still have to make. Do you think I can walk into a place like that and not spontaneously catch on fire? I'll let you know. 6)I got all bundled up the other night, took Murph out for a nice long walk to see the eclipse, instead all I saw were clouds. 7) I love tacos. 8) I hate MySpace. I hate the friend status updates with the smiley faces, I hate the friend bulletin updates and those cheesy god damned surveys. I really hate reading "friend" updates about people I'm not actually friends with. I'd delete them from my friends list if it weren't so passive aggressive. What I hate the most is that I care enough to have written a whole paragraph about what I hate about MySpace, but I don't delete my account. Nuts. 9) Instead of watching the debates last night I watched My Cousin Vinny. I know, for shame, but I get so tired of listening to them say nothing over and over. It's not like my vote counts anyway. Superdelegates. What a crock of shit. Or to quote Mona Lisa Vito: "Oh my God, what a fucking nightmare!"

The Aftermath

So God bless Jill! She got a bright and early phone call from me on Saturday morning. I absolutely wouldn't wait until Mr. Wonderful's dad, my favorite coffee shop guy, got home to make my escape. Instead I found my purse, checked for my I.D, credit card, cell phone and camera and made a break for it. I headed out into the (too) bright Saturday morning to grab a cup of coffee. At Starbucks, not my favorite coffee place. I grabbed a cup and waited for Saint Jill to drive to Golden to pick my hungover ass up to go get my car (back in Denver). THANKS JILL! It is good to have good friends. I brunched with Sameera (grilled cheese sandwich!) then headed home to veg out on the couch for a few hours before... I had another not-date with The Hippie on Saturday night. But this one felt more like a date. The occasion was another concert, this time a duo, a guitarist and a flautist. We had plans to go climbing too, but it wasn't to be. Something was different this time, I think it was the result of our first fight. He was supposed to pick me up at five. He called at six to tell me he was downstairs. I was beyond pissed at this point and I told him as much. Being an hour late and not calling is unacceptable. He said we'd planned on 5:30, that he was only a half hour late. My response? So? A half hour late and no phone call is still unacceptable. I consider myself pretty low-maintenance (I know all women say this, but I was once dumped for being "too low-maintenance" so in my case it might be true) but consideration is one thing that I can't compromise on. If you must be late, call. And what's more, if you say you'll call tomorrow, call tomorrow, not in three days. My time is valuable too. Anyway, I'm not big on beating around the bush. The passive-aggressive thing gets out of hand really fast. If something is bothering me I'd like to address it and move on or not. No cold shoulder, no silent treatment. So I told him I was pissed and why. He told me to forget the whole thing and that he'd go alone. I said goodnight, hung up the phone and changed into my sweatpants; a couple of movies from Netflix were calling my name. Five minutes later he called back. He apologized. I accepted his apology, changed back into my date attire and headed downstairs. Hey, I don't like to hold a grudge. We went to dinner at a tiny Thai place nearby. We shared thom ga kai (yum!). I ordered my sriracha beef too spicy, but I ate it anyway. By the end of dinner we were laughing. We made it to the concert just in time. He slid his arm around my shoulders in the second act. When the show was over we walked around the corner to The Hornet. We ordered a couple a beers and started talking about our little fight earlier. He said at first he just thought I was being a bitch, that I was still mad, but our night had been great so far, and he just wasn't used to women who were so straight forward and honest with their feelings. I just said it makes things easier. What I learned from The Boy is that if you are honest, above all else, you'll have no regrets. I told The Hippie as much. And then something happened. We stopped being so polite to each other and started talking. Really talking. It was really fun, he even cracked a couple of jokes. OK, OK, he's still not funny, but at least he tried. When he dropped me off he asked if I wanted to come over an see his new place (wink! wink!). I didn't want to, so I said no. The he snuck in for a goodnight kiss that was surprisingly good. I don't see things with The Hippie going anywhere; there are a lot of reasons why I think we'd be a terrible couple, the kind of signs even I can't ignore. But it's great having a friend like him. And the fun dates are like a great bonus. A friend with a different kind of benefits.

Getting Exactly What I Deserve

I'm writing this little missive at my favorite coffee shop in Golden. It is right next door to my office, a cute little place with great coffee and free Wi-Fi. Whenever I need to get away and get some work done without being interrupted I pack up my laptop and my i-pod and head over for a cup of joe. My favorite coffee shop guy works most weekday mornings, he's super friendly and always has a great recommendation about the day's coffee selections. He's probably about 50 years old and it's always nice to chat with him before settling down to get a little work done. But I digress... So Friday night I met Jill and Sameera out in Denver. We were going to have a nice, quiet cocktail some good conversation and catch up with some quality time. Oh, the best laid plans. We had a great night out, many cocktails, dancing, flirting with all the cute boys we met. I meet a cute guy, we dance, we flirt and then, nearing the end of the end of the evening, around bar time, I make a game time decision. I decide to take the plunge and say goodnight to the ladies and head home with Mr. Wonderful. Well the rest of the night might as well serve as a public service announcement as to why one night stands are a terrible idea. First of all I should remind you about my number one rule when dating, no bartenders, musicians or athletes. Maybe that sounds a little judgmental, but I've made the mistake often enough (most recently with The Bartender) to know better. Or at least I should know better. Turns out Mr. Wonderful is an unemployed struggling musician who just got fired from his bar tending job (of 2 years!) at a douchey Denver night club. You'd think that would be enough for me to rethink this little venture, but no, I'm a real glutton for punishment tonight. We get to Mr. Wonderful's house which is, incidentally, a short walk from my favorite coffee shop in Golden. Making small talk I notice a few pictures of him holding a teeny-tiny baby, I remark on the baby's cuteness, to which he replies that it is his baby, and he's a month old. He then tells me that his "Baby-momma" lives in Wisconsin which is too bad because babies are great for picking up chicks. I'm rendered speechless at this point, when he pulls out the futon in the living room. I'm a little taken aback by this, so I ask what he's doing. And here it comes. He sleeps in the living room here because he just moved in with his dad and he doesn't have a bedroom. WTF?! Who brings a girl home to the couch in their dad's house? I can't even tell you how disturbing this was. The look on my face no doubt betrayed my horror because he says "No worries, my dad's cool." At this he gestures to his gigantic bong sitting on the coffee table. All this was just too much for me, and needless to say, despite my intentions to the contrary I am still celibate. I am such a disaster with men that I can't even successfully have a one night stand. If I'd have thought of it I would have walked to my office and crashed there, but all those cocktails had (obviously) impaired my judgment so I slept there on the couch. In the morning Mr. Wonderful is telling me a *hilarious* story about how he was planning on going over to his ex-girlfriend's place but then he met me and I'm "way hotter than her" so he changed his game plan. I'm thinking this whole scenario can't get any worse. And then it did. All I could think of was getting a cup of coffee. I ask Mr. Wonderful to give me a lift home. This is when he tells me that he can't because he and his dad share a car (the minivan from the night before) and his dad took it to work early this morning. He'd be home at 11 at which time Mr. Wonderful could drive me home. I don't really like this plan. For one thing, Mr. Wonderful's dad has already seen me asleep on the couch, sorry, the futon, when he left for work. I don't want to have to make awkward polite chit-chat with the dad when he gets home from work. Also I'd really like to leave before 11. I'd like to leave right now. While I'm rethinking my exit strategy, I ask what his dad does to work such odd hours. Would you like to know what Mr. Wonderful's dad does? Mr. Wonderful's dad is my favorite coffee shop guy. Serves me right. Thankfully he's not working this morning.

Cleaning and Calimochos

Sometimes work is boring. So boring, in fact that I was looking forward to getting home and cleaning my apartment all day. A quick rifling through the cabinets resulted in a terrible bottle of wine left over from Jill and I's date last weekend. For a wine this bad I can only think of one thing; Calimochos. A nice hot shower, a tall cocktail and I'm ready to go. When I'm in the mood for it, an evening of cleaning my apartment top to bottom can be just the ticket. Especially climbing into crisp clean sheets when it's time for bed. Jill stopped by earlier with a surprise. A carnitas burrito for us to share from Senor Burrito. I do love surprises. Two vignettes from our visit: Jill: Gah, you are way prettier than me Me: Shut up dude, you're the prettiest person I've ever met in real life. Jill: You're like my mom, you have to say that. Me: Whatever, didn't I tell you earlier tonight to get your fat ass off the couch? Jill: Yeah, like I said, you're like my mom. Jill: Do you think a lot of girls from high school are moms now? Me: Yeah, well, a lot of girls from college are. Jill: ... Me: There's no rush, we have, like, ten years before we have to worry about it. Jill: Ten years! Me: Yeah, 35ish would be good. Jill: Um, we're not 25 anymore. Me: Oh, well that's how I like to think of myself.

Sushi and Sunshine

This is what I woke up to (bright and early) Monday morning: Like every morning, brush the teeth, walk the dog, head off to work. It looks like a closet bomb went off in my bedroom. Vow to do laundry and clean up this mess when I get home from work today. And I would have, I swear I had the very best intentions.... But the circumstances and the amazing weather conspired against me. And instead of laundry and vacuuming I opted for a nice walk with these two lovelies. Our walk took us down to Cherry Creek for sushi at Sushi Tazu. The weather was so nice in fact, that we opted to dine on the patio in the sunshine. I was clearly channeling 1993. A little tempura.... A crazy roll with eel, avocado, tomato, yellow pepper and mozzarella cheese (!!!!)... And a soft shell crab roll later we strolled back to Suzie's house. Overall I feel that one less thing crossed off my to-do list today is a worthy price to pay for such a lovely afternoon spent with friends.

Friday Night, Before the Train Wreck

Friday night started out with the best intentions. The plan was calm cocktails, but we left the door open for debauchery, should the mood strike. And strike it did. We met at the swanky Peaks Lounge for a nice glass of wine and an especially girlie martini. Around 11 we all got a second wind and decided a little dancing was in order. Shocking, I know. Well, we do love our dancing. We grabbed a cab downstairs, while waiting the valet was kind enough to let me model his hat. Stunning, no? Jill was coat dancing and mugging for the camera. And helping me out with my beer when my head was turned. Not that she needed help with hers... I was, as always, an insufferable ham. Sameera can't help but steal the spotlight. A new bar, a new dance floor, a new photo shoot. Pretty much a new version of the same picture we take every other weekend. Get a couple cocktails in me and I think I'm so gosh darn cute. Seriously? Cheesetastic. If I had any shame at all I might be a little embarrassed, instead I think "Ooh, shiny hair!" If you're interested you can see the rest of the photos here.

The Jill Show: Now With Video

You will certainly not find this as amusing as I do. Unless you are Jill. And then you surely will.

Today on Post Secret

Do you guys ever read Post Secret? I do every Sunday. I get my coffee ready and settle down to read people's secrets. I love reading them, some are super serious, some are frivolous. Sometimes people's deepest secrets are things I would never be ashamed of, sometimes people's secrets are my secrets, and sometimes I read people's secrets and they make me think about my secrets that I don't even admit to myself. Photo via Post Secret This one made me think about one of those secrets that I keep hidden. I think this secret's time has come. Our big breakup was years ago, I got over it years ago too. I even thank my lucky stars that things didn't work out between us. But I always secretly hoped he regretted it. Today I'm going to stop doing that. I've held on to this residual grudge long enough. From now on I am going to hope that his life is everything he ever dreamed it would be and that he is wildly happy with his choices. I'm going to stop feeling guilty that we didn't work just a little harder on the relationship. I am going to accept once and for all how fortunate we both are that we didn't stay together. And I am going to truly start believing that one day I'll fall in love again. Maybe.

My Valentine

Project Runway: Season 4 Episode 11

Spoiler, consider yourself warned! I do eat up the drama, but this is about the clothes. OK, it’s mostly about the clothes. Click here to see a slide show of the designs. (via Bravotv.com) This weeks challenge was a little crazy, here is how I would have ranked the designs this week: Design by Jillian, modeled by Michelle. The problem now is that they all have fallen into their niches. Jillian with her coats. Design by Christian, modeled by Lisa. Christian with his puffy sleeves. Design by Chris, modeled by Marcia. Chris and his drama queen garments. Design by Rami, modeled by Sam. Rami and his damn draping. Design by Sweat P, modeled by Lea. But poor Sweet P, this was the challenge to pull out all the stops, and this just didn't bring it.

Happy Birthday Suzie!

I Get Older, They Stay The Same Age.

A funny thing has been happening lately. I made this little graph to illustrate it for you. I think this same phenomena is responsible for that little incident with the 20 year old back in October. I have caught myself giving a 20 year old the once over on more than one occasion lately. They're just so young and hot and eager to please. I know, shameful. Things reached a fever pitch a week ago when my mom was visiting me on campus and we took a walk through the school's new recreation center. We stopped to watch a few minutes of a swim meet when my mom said "Ooh, look at their hot young bodies. You should bring your books here to study and sit back and enjoy the view." Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind.

No Premium on Modesty Around Here

I think I might be even less modest now than I was two years ago. I can't believe it either, I didn't think it was even possible, yet here we are. Interviewing has always been my thing, I'm excellent on first dates too. I think it has something to do with the unabashed self-promotion involved in both the situations. My two interviews this morning felt good. I may not be what they are looking for, or they may not be what I'm looking for, at this point only time will tell, but they felt good. One thing became glaringly clear to me this morning. I have never been as comfortable in my own skin as I am now. For the first time I am proud of my education, I feel smart, I know what it is that I want and what I’m looking for. I feel articulate, assertive and engaging.

The glaring difference in the interviews I am having now and the ones I had right after undergrad is that now I have some serious options. I don’t feel desperate for someone to hire me; I’m looking for the right fit.

I guess over the last few years I really have started to believe that with some hard work, everything happens the way it should. I guess for the first time in my life I am starting to have some faith in… something. Maybe it’s faith in me, which would be a huge step in the right direction.

Girl, You'd Better Hustle

Today was carer day at Mines. A whole slew of companies come in and try to give us a bunch of free crap (T-shirts, footballs, pens, candy) and in return we try to give them our resumes. More accurately we try to get cherry-picked for interviews. I wasn't planning on attending, but then I got to thinking that it couldn't hurt. So, I got all geeked up in my super cute business-attire (that I never get to wear) and hit the streets armed with a stack of resumes and a great big smile. I talked to a lot of companies and handed out a lot of resumes. I'll follow up later this week, tomorrow I have three interviews. But right before my three interviews I have a dentist appointment. That's right, this girl knows how to put her best foot forward. I know you're probably thinking I should reschedule. I tried, but I can't get in for another three months and I have a cavity I can feel whenever I drink anything hot. Soooo.... I'll just have to make it work. Worst case scenario, at least I'll be memorable.

Fight or Flight

I've been thinking a lot lately about the whole marriage and kids thing. What a major decision. At the end of a long day, all I want to do is get home, cook up some supper, and sit down on the couch. I don't want to compromise on dinner or share the remote. I don't feel like talking to anyone. I want to read my book or write a little. Maybe I want to knit or drink wine in a bubble bath. I might watch a Keeping Up With the Kardashians marathon and pick my nose for a while. Make a big bowl of popcorn for dinner and lay in bed watching DVD's on my laptop. I'm not ready to give up this strange behavior, and I expect I'd have to were I to marry. This is one reason that I'm not just happy, but some days I'm down right relieved I'm single. At a party on Saturday night with maybe 12 couples I found myself a little overwhelmed. Not because I felt lonely but because it occurred to me just how big a commitment marriage is. I find some solace in the absolute truth that I haven't met the right person yet. I know this absolutely because I've not met someone for whom I'd be willing to make these compromises and change my ways. I'm certain I will get married, everyone does, but the idea of spending the rest of my life with any of the men I've dated in the past is laughable. To the point where I'm starting to wonder if my terrible dating choices aren't so much just bad decisions but some kind of sub-conscious commitment phobia. The idea of spending the next 60 years with one person actually makes my flight or flight response kick in a little. I guess I'm just not sure I'm looking to settle down just yet.

Weee!

Woohoo! So the big surprise was the return of the Jill! Weeee! Big thanks to Nicki for throwing a great party! It was lots of fun to get together and see all the gals. I've got a little deer in the headlights thing going on here. Sometimes I feel like Jill is my wife. I missed my Jilly. Suzie missed the Jilly too. After the party Jill and I headed out to the Rock Bar. It was so disappointing! I think word of our favorite bar got out. It was overrun with hipsters! After waiting twenty minutes for the bartender to acknowledge us, some snippy blond girl tried to dress Jill down for "cutting in line." We tried to smooth things over but she kept yelling even though we began to ignore her. Crazy. We got our beers and danced for a while with some very young boys, but left a little earlier than bar time. Not the most fun I've had there. Leave it to the hipsters to ruin my favorite bar. Today we had a great lazy Sunday. Brunch at Steuben's followed by movies and chocolate cake. Not so good for the diet, but definitely good for the soul. I would say that my favorite thing about going out drinking isn't the fun times at the bar, but spending these Sundays on the couch with Jill and Suzie and Mike. It is the tops.