I have been struggling for almost three weeks to get a particular piece of equipment up and running to complete a very important part of my research. I have been trying everything I could think of and banging my head against the wall. I've been losing sleep and having nightmares about not moving to Chicago and staying in grad school here in Golden forever (mixed in with one particularly steamy sex dream about Tyra who, in the dream, was really a man...) and I've been taking a lot of heat from my bosses about not having my system up and running. Well last night, at the end of my day I finally got it working. Hurrah! So now I am revived and full of vigor and a new found drive to work it out. I even worked on my thesis until after midnight last night, so amped I was about making some new progress. So, I am looking forward to a particularly productive work day today, tomorrow, and I think this weekend. But, in a good way.
Photo Essay Tuesday (Tanya's Wedding Edition)
This weekend I had the honor of being a guest at the wedding of my friend Tanya to the luckiest guy I know, Nick. I was the most beautiful wedding I've ever attended. Tanya has graciously consented to my sharing with you some of my favorite pictures from the celebration. The wedding party walked this path into a clearing where the ceremony was held. This was definitely not the kind of wedding where you could arrive late and sneak in the back. It is too bad that Tanya's eyes are closed here (forgive me Tanya!) but I couldn't resist posting this picture of the look on her father's face. A picture could never do justice to the awesome setting they chose for the ceremony, but I tried. Seriously, how gorgeous is Colorado in the spring? I wanted to include this picture of their officiant heading away; I love that he's carrying his nalgene, it's just ubiquitously Colorado. I think I snapped twenty pictures of Tanya and they were all absolutely stunning. Kate was my date to the wedding. What a babe, no? We were sitting at the "Golden City" table with Laura, Ivory and Jamie. Sarah had on a gorgeous blue dress, but I didn't get any pictures of it. If this picture of Suzie doesn't say "get that camera out of my face," I don't know what does.... The music was wonderful, On Second Thought reunited for a couple of songs, Tanya and Nick danced the night away. As the evening went on there were lots of opportunities for pictures, like this great one of Tanya and her father... And even a few with our old sorority sisters. Every time I look at this picture I breathe a very heavy sigh of relief that I didn't spill that glass of red wine on Tanya's beautiful dress.
Babies! Babies! Babies!
This weekend was all Babies! Babies! Babies! I dare you to hold one of these little guys and not get all googoogaagaa on them. This little cutie-pie is Emma, and I can't get enough of her tiny little toes! She makes all these little noises and farts a lot; which is waaay cuter when babies do it. The best part of other peoples babies, is you can hold them and tickle them and buy them little dresses, but at the end of the day someone else takes them home.
I Think I'm In Love
Happy (?!) Thursday
Bad day, schmad day. There is nothing that the company of your best friend, a bottle of wine and a modern day love letter won't take care of.
There's A Light
I'm having one of those days today where I just hate my job so much and I'm just so over it (the antiquated equipment that doesn't work, the fruitlessness of this research so far, the unimportance of my work at all really) that I can't really even muster up any vitriol. All I really feel is an overwhelming urge to crawl back in bed and go to sleep for the next three months. Because I'm not really a fan of harboring this type of negativity, I've decided to remind myself of a little thing I like to call the bright side: Murphy has finally stopped getting sick all over the apartment (it's been a rough couple of days). Friday night I'm going to relax and grill with some friends I haven't seen much of lately. Jill is back in town from Texas. I haven't seen her in a month, and I have been slowly coming to then realization of just how much I miss her when she's not around. Not that it would surprise anyone to hear that. Tanya's wedding on Sunday. Because I had some prior plans I wasn't able to catch up with the gals for either the bachelorette party or the shower last weekend, so I am really looking forward to celebrating the big day. In three months I won't have to deal with the B.S. and politics surrounding a job in academia. I just have to keep reminding myself; I am not my work. My job is not my life. This is all a means to an end, and there is a light at the end of a very short tunnel.
Where DO You Think We Are, Exactly?
Photo Essay Tuesday (Josh Edition)
My big weekend plans for Josh's visit kind of fell by the wayside when, about 45 minutes after he stepped off the plane in Denver, he started feeling the ill effects of the altitude. So, instead of running around the city trying to see as much as possible we spent a lot of time sitting in the sun on my patio grilling and reading and just shooting the breeze. Not that I'm complaining. We did manage to take in some Golden. Well, my Golden, which really includes the big brewery, the little brewery and the grill on my deck. Katie, Kassie and J.Paul joined us to soak up some seriously beautiful weather. We played cards... We got a little sun... Seriously, you can't blame the guy for trying to shut me up, if only for a minute. The day grew longer and the beer grew stronger... Kate and Josh battled it for the title of 22 champion... Sadly none of us could remember all the rules! Enter Mak, tired after a big bike ride, but just in time to drink some beer and keep us all in stitches.
What Are Your Plans This Weekend?
As a sort of preemptive measure against mentionitis, I've waited until now to say that Josh is coming for a visit tomorrow. I am super-de-duper excited. But that's not all folks, Katie (of Mak and Katie) will be in town, and we all have a dinner date with Suzie and Mike and maybe Tanya. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! After weeks and weeks and weeks of studying, and working, and being a good little girl who stays in and reads Jane Eyre before going to bed at 9pm on a Saturday night I am all wound up and ready to go play. I have a very cute dress (less than $25, gotta love that Forever) and I plan on looking hot and drinking beer and sitting in the sun (please be sunny, please be sunny) and eating sushi and walking Murphy and getting coffee and grilling on my deck and hopefully some other stuff that I'm feeling a little too prude to share with you. So, have a great weekend. I'm pretty sure I will.
Sunrise 5:46 AM
My first reaction to waking up at 5:30 this morning was to groan and bury my head under my pillows. Luckily I caught the quality of the light out of the corner of my eye before I fell back asleep. It was enough to get me out of bed, if only for a minute to take in the beautiful sunrise. Now that my time in Colorado is dwindling I'm finding that I'm more mindful of my surroundings. I am aware that I need to soak in as much Colorado-y goodness as I can, this sunrise was a good one to catch. This is a picture my boss took of me at work last week. Nerd alert. I think I need to work on my posture. I'll have to keep that in mind.
Conversation With My Dad This Morning
Dad: We've got a pair of Robins in the back yard Me: Oh, that's nice Dad: Eh, they're fuckin' all over Me: (assuming he's speaking colloquially) Oh, that sucks Dad: No, they are fucking all over. Copulating. On the deck, in the grass, in the tree, in the garden... It can't take more that 30 seconds, but they just keep doing it Me: Yeah, that's enough. I've got to go
I have been hemming and hawing about coloring my hair to cover up those pesky gray hairs for months now. I was reluctant to do so because I haven't colored my hair in years. Once I let it grow out, I found out I had a really great natural color. Or, at least, I did until last summer. Turns out spending and entire summer drinking beer whilst floating down a river really does nothing for your BMI or your hair. My once beautiful, dark brown hair turned a sun kissed bright copper. I wasn't thrilled with it, but, remembering all those years spent trying to color my hair an auburn or copper, I figured I'd just go with it for a while. I had just gotten used to it, when along comes winter, and hair just keeps on growing. The new growth was the original, dark brown. So, dark on top, reddish on the bottom with the occasional wiry silver hair. This morning I'd finally had enough, it was time for a change. So, two boxes of natural instincts medium ash brown and ten minutes later I sit, newly raven haired. If only there was such a quick fix for forehead wrinkles.
Tuesday, May 13th. Snow. Again. Oh, Golden.
I Don't Even Know Why I Was Watching It
I spent some time Saturday with my mom. We weren't really doing much, she came over, we watched Wild Things on the WB in the afternoon. Needless to say, Wild Things doesn't really translate well to broadcast television, if I were to wager a guess, I'd say they had to cut out a good third of the movie. What was entertaining about the whole experience was how poorly edited-for-TV it was. They'd abruptly cut away from the scene and jump to another one, which left me explaining to my mom that, well, they had to cut that part out because it was a pretty graphic threesome, and this part was really just some gratuitous nudity. Nothing says I love you mom like a play-by-play of some girl-on-girl action.
I don't know why I have so much shit. I've been doing this thing where every weekend I take a bin of stuff to the Goodwill. I'm trying to simplify and get rid of stuff I don't use before I move. In doing this I just keep finding more stuff in my tiny apartment. I spent all day today ding some serious spring cleaning. The kind where you move furniture to vacuum and scrub the corners of the tub with a toothbrush. The kind of cleaning normal people probably do on a regular basis, but I let slide until it is absolutely necessary. And the reason it's so absolutely necessary? In 5 days I'm going to have a visitor (yippee!), and just because I have learned to turn a blind eye to the fact that everything in my world is completely covered in dog hair doesn't mean anyone else should have to.
God Wouldn't Have Given You Maracas If He didn't Want You To Shake 'Em.
Is being a grown up everything you imagined as a child? Wait, is it anything like you thought it would be? I suppose for some of you it is, probably those of you who didn't spend the better part of a decade in college. Those of you who fell in love, got married and had babies. When we're little we see grown-ups, and we watch movies and our fantasy of adulthood takes shape. I blame Dirty Dancing. When I was little I had this girlfriend (not Jill) and she was kind of a bad girl, my dad used to say she was going to grow up to be a "slutty" girl, but I didn't know what he meant. He wasn't too off the mark, at the time at least, she always wanted to practice kissing. I have no idea what happened to her, she might not be a slutty girl at all, but I guess that's how I'll always think of her. We used to play make-believe, and we'd always pretend that we were OLD, 22! And that we were stewardesses, and that we had husbands and babies. And then sometimes we practiced kissing. I never imagined that my life would have so much depth, so much nuance. So many good friends, such a strong family. I never imagined it would be filled with such adventure, laughter. I never imagined that things wouldn't always work out with a dance montage. I never imagined I'd fall in love and have my heart broken and live to tell about it. I never imagined I'd fail at anything, but that I'd one day look upon those failures with as much pride as I look upon my successes. I also never imagined I'd be a better person for all of it. Thank god things didn't turn out the way I thought they would. They turned out so much better.
Warts And All
Last night I turned in my last ever physics assignment. My last ever grad school paper. OK, there's still The Plan, so maybe I should say my last ever engineering grad school paper. It is an amazing feeling. Not that the hard work is over, there's still that one last little, nagging, deliverable... the thesis. But, my to do list only has one thing on it, compared to the 11 things that were looming last Thursday. These past few weeks have been kind of light on the blogging, volume wise due to school work, but content wise due to something else entirely. I've kind of met someone. I've alluded to it, but I've refrained from mentioning it directly. And the reason I've kept mum? He reads this blog. That's how we met actually. Normally I'd go on a date, give someone a little nickname, and tell you guys all about it. But... first thing in the morning when you read about it, he'd read it too. I'm not sure any budding relationship can withstand that kind of scrutiny, it's a lot of pressure. But at the same time, at least he already knows I kiss and tell, so that won't come as a surprise.
Who's The Boob, Me Or The Tube?
As you are well aware, in a few months time I'll be packing up and relocating to Chicago. I am more than excited about this for many reasons, but the biggest reason (today at least, it seems to change regularly) is the opportunity to change my lifestyle. Right now I'm bogged down with grad school stuff. I work a long day, more often than not lately I take work home, and work all night while zoning out in front of the TV. I rarely used to watch TV, and never had cable until about 2 years ago when Monday Night Football moved to ESPN. Then I took the plunge; and while I used to listen to music, read everyday, take long walks with my dog, and visit museums, now I pretty much just watch Law and Order. All the time. So I have decided that the number one thing I am going to do when I move is leave my TV behind. I've really thought this through, any can't miss shows I can catch online, and Bronco games probably won't be shown in that new market anyway. I have a whole pile of books that have been waiting patiently for this semester to be over ...
Just How Much Do Opposites Attract?
Lately I've been thinking about the idea that opposites attract. I understand an initial attraction to someone who is different from you, the excitement, the rush of something new, a passport to a whole new world. But after the flush of newness has worn off, what chance do opposites have for happiness? And at what level does it really start to matter? Is it as basic as adventuresome foodie vs. picky eater? Or gym addict vs. couch potato? City slicker vs. country bumpkin? Is lifestyle choice more important? For instance, how do you spend your Sunday? Watching football? Camping in the back country? Strolling through farmers markets? Enjoying a museum? Sipping mimosas? Cleaning house and doing laundry? Are religious differences a concern? How about political differences? I don't have answers to any of these questions, but I'm a rather adventurous sort, so maybe I'll do some research and find out.
Professor Snootarium's Crazy Vocabularium!!!
This weekend I've been having a marathon cram session, trying to finish up all of this semesters work. Lucky for me Josh was busy working too and we spent the day intermittently working and entertaining each other via email. What started as a lighthearted challenge- who has a better mastery of the English language, a bigger vocabulary- over the course of the day turned into a full blown idea for a child's board game targeted at the snooty intelligentsia. Which turned into maybe the coolest thing ever; eleven hours after we started our conversation yesterday morning Josh sent me an email. A prototype if you will, so awesome it left me speechless. You have to check this out, if you guys don't already read Berg With Fries, today would be a great day to start.
Labels: Product Endorsement
Reason #683 That I'm An Asshole
Earlier this week my dear friend Frannie called me to tell me he'd be in Colorado this Wednesday. The last two times he was in town, I was out of town on interviews, but this time I was in town, and we made tentative plans to meet for some dinner and a long overdue catch-up. This week was my last week of classes. Ever. Well, not ever, there's still The Plan, but yesterday I took my final engineering class. In addition to finishing up classes, I have a stack of work to get done by Monday to finish up the semester. That is to say, this week I've been toiling away in a sweatshop of my own making to finish up my degree. Finally. Now I'm not offering this as an excuse for what happened, because as far as excuses go, this is truly scraping the bottom of the barrel. But I forgot he was coming until about 10:30 last night. I was mopping my kitchen. Trying to squeeze some chores into my overly packed week so as to not devolve into a life filled with trash and squalor. I was standing in my kitchen, singing along with George Michael, wet socks, mop in hand, when I remembered my friend Frannie. So please, Dear FranMan, consider this, mea maxima culpa, my sincerest of apologies. I'm sorry I'm such a dillweed.
Paralysis By Analysis
I just about gave myself an ulcer this last week going back and forth and back and forth and back and... well you get the idea, about which of 2 great jobs to take. Countless phone calls to my parents to debate the merits of the two jobs, the pros and cons, back and forth, back and forth. My dad calls this paralysis by analysis. Yesterday morning was the (original) final, drop-dead decision date, and do you know what I decided? The same thing I decided a week ago, I'm moving to Chicago. I signed the acceptance letter, told the other company thanks, but no, and there you have it. As soon as I hit send the massive, crushing stress I was burdened with disappeared. Don't get me wrong, I've had one or two fleeting second thoughts, but I keep in mind one thing my mom told me. "What ever job you choose, you'll regret not taking the other one, that's just the kind of person you are." I'm not sure I want to be that kind of person, but, it is what it is. At least now I can go back to focusing on my thesis. Damned Thesis! So anyway, sorry to all of you who have listened to me hem and haw, and thanks to all of you who have given me your advice.
I have a journal (that I never write in) full of playful questions meant to provoke and inspire. I came across it the other day while I was looking for another book, and gave it a little flip though. I read this question and laughed out loud. Q: Once when you were ill and said you would change if only you got well again, what did you mean? A: Oh, the dangers of binge drinking. I wonder if binge drinking is a new phenomenon of if our grandfathers also binged but didn’t have such a politically correct, clinical word for it. Last time I was ill it was the direct result of a bender that was the direct result of my favorite girl in the world’s broken heart. Don’t judge, are you telling me the first thing you do after a break up isn’t get pretty and hit the town to get your flirt on? That’s what I thought. So we don our Thursday’s finest, hike up the girls, slick on some gloss, dig out the heels and the jeans that make your ass look like you spend at least six hours a week in the gym (I don’t), and hit the town. An order of mussels, $5 happy hour wine, then on to a couple of artisanal cocktails, a dark and stormy or two, a couple vodka & sodas, then pitchers and pitchers of beer. The particular bar we were patronizing is normally overrun with college aged boys on Thursday nights, but this particular night it was packed to the gills with attractive 30-ish men. I suppose this could have been a beer goggles situation, but an abundance of hottitrons is the way I like to remember it. I also remember that we were the only girls in the bar. Now, I know this can’t be true, but I can honestly say we took no notice of any other women in the joint. We’d only been there an hour before we both had our little harems set up. Jill on one side of the bar, playing skee-ball with her group of admirers, me on the other with mine, watching basketball and pelting them with peanuts (we were at The Walrus). This is where things get a little dicey. The next three or so hours of the night are gone, pfssst, vanished. I do know at five-thirty that morning Jill and I woke up, fully clothed (thank god!) in a hotel room with three strangers (two men, one woman) to the not-so-dulcet tones of the hotel’s fire alarm. I guess she left then, I went back to sleep until about 8 when I had to hard-core walk of shame it out of there. I mean hard-core. Knee-high boots, mascara smeared all across my face, bra stuffed in my purse, and some serious bed head. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, preferably before any of the strangers woke up so as to avoid any awkward conversation, so I grabbed my bag and figured I’d use the bathroom lobby. I forgot about the (very nice) hotel’s (very large) lobby. I clip-clap-clopped across it’s expansive hardwood floor in my stilettos, trying my best not to garner the attention of the businessmen and hotel staff who I am absolutely sure, at this point, think I’m a hooker; cleaned up the best I could and made my way to the car. I drove the whole way home with the air conditioner on full blast, praying I’d make it home before I got sick. I made it as far as my parking lot, parked the car, and threw up in the bushes 20 feet from my apartment. What followed that day was worse than any hangover I ever had after any frat party in college. It was worse than any New Years Day. It was worse than any day I can remember. I have never been so miserable. I’ll spare you the details. Jill was in equally bad shape. We both called in hung over to work and spent the day on our respective couches occasionally calling each other and wondering how we ended up in such bad shape. In retrospect, it’s no wonder we got so sick the next day, but, hindsight is 20-20. I literally cried I was so sick. I swore, that day, I’d never drink that much again. I swore I’d never wake up in a stranger’s hotel room again, whatever the circumstances. I swore I’d change my ways. Harrumph.