Friday night I met 2 old coworkers for chips, salsa, beer and pool at Baja Bean, and, later, dinner and wine at Avalon. Vivian charmingly gauked at the fru-fru entrees, chilled watermelon soup, duck confit with pesto, cuban corn with ancho aioli...not sure what that is...and I nearly licked the tomato base off a plate of roasted risotto. Karen, full of gracious energy that she portrays as tough and honest, but is more accurately described as beautiful and radiant, turns and says to me "I am happy now, because I am with you." And I am happy too, as we gush over a bottle of merlot/shiraz blend poured in white wine glasses, clanking against platters of fru-fru tapas. There are so many things to catch up on, a status update of an old workplace that hasn't changed, a campaign of tricks and celebrities, men who arn't man enough, and men we can not resist.
I drove home giddy, full of nostalgia of friends forgotten and then found. I have become an entirely different person in the 4 months since starting a new career. I am more thoughtful, careful, slower, happier. I am a professional, I have hope. Everything is sweeter, these last days of summer when the leaves on the tree are ripened green with maximum degree of verdigris before exploding into the red and oranges of fall; the soft humming of Chloe as she colors a Tinkerbell book laying on the carpet in the living room, her feet kicking up in the air; I am happy, extraordinarily happy. And the more satisfied I am with this house, this job, this family, the more satisfied I am, the more I am given...so that I don't understand it anymore. Why am I so blessed? What have I done to deserve such a wonderful life?
And the only way I know to give thanks is to give what I have to others. To smile at the clerk who sends me through the car wash, to add an extra $10 to the church where my daughter goes to daycare, to make mini lemon tarts for the guys at work (even if the tarts go untouched).
Sunday night creeps up quickly. I am drinking whats left in the bottle of Smoking Loon. I am closer to finishing one of the few websites I still have in my queue, and thinking about what assignment to accept next. I have become selective about what I will create, and while this seems arrogant, it provides me with a sense of control and artistic specificity that can only come from a job that is not a necessity.
Now the children are snuggled up, Payton with her American Doll named Josephina, and Chloe with her blanket tied in a knot under her arm as she sleeps in my bed on my pillow. I can still hear crickets chirp. I think I will miss the sound of crickets when winter comes.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Someone fix the system so I can get back to work
I am back at work today after a brief fairytale stint in NYC. With all my fascination and last minute trips to this city, one might ask, why don't you just move there? I am afraid to. Like a boyfriend you adore until you marry him and find out he doesn't wash dishes and leaves his clothes on the bathroom floor.
What if New York leaves it's clothes on the bathroom floor? What if this magical land of endless wonder turns out to be nothing more than pollution, foreigners and rats? As long as I dip into New Yorks pool just up to my ankle I will never be saddened by the hard truth of commitment.
I am impatient today, mostly because I have more to-do bullets than completed check marks. The CMS program isn't running properly and I have a presentation I need to get done. I want it working now now now. Don't those server gurus understand the gravity of my situation?
One of my must-dos during my 24 hour trip to the Big Apple was visit the danish artist waterfall display. "Take me to the Brooklyn Bridge waterfalls on the Seaport" I asked the cabby. Twenty minutes later I looked out the window of the taxi and caught my first glimpse. Wow. My skin turned into a mass of goose pimples. Really one must see this art in life, hear the water rushing, feel the rumble of the traffic above. Art? So this is how art is supposed to make you feel. Like a miracle just occurred in your heart but you can't define how it will change your tomorrow. Like two things which struggled (man and nature) have finally found peace right here in the busiest metropolitan. Olafur Eliasson, you can never imagine what this display has done for a big minded but closed-in Virginian girl.
What if New York leaves it's clothes on the bathroom floor? What if this magical land of endless wonder turns out to be nothing more than pollution, foreigners and rats? As long as I dip into New Yorks pool just up to my ankle I will never be saddened by the hard truth of commitment.
I am impatient today, mostly because I have more to-do bullets than completed check marks. The CMS program isn't running properly and I have a presentation I need to get done. I want it working now now now. Don't those server gurus understand the gravity of my situation?
One of my must-dos during my 24 hour trip to the Big Apple was visit the danish artist waterfall display. "Take me to the Brooklyn Bridge waterfalls on the Seaport" I asked the cabby. Twenty minutes later I looked out the window of the taxi and caught my first glimpse. Wow. My skin turned into a mass of goose pimples. Really one must see this art in life, hear the water rushing, feel the rumble of the traffic above. Art? So this is how art is supposed to make you feel. Like a miracle just occurred in your heart but you can't define how it will change your tomorrow. Like two things which struggled (man and nature) have finally found peace right here in the busiest metropolitan. Olafur Eliasson, you can never imagine what this display has done for a big minded but closed-in Virginian girl.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Am I a fraud?
After a few days of creative block I start to believe that I am a fraud. I can't make gray go with black, too many things align, and this design looks like the last 10 layouts of 1993. I surfed the web for inspiration. Inspiration? Thats such a fuzzy concept. Also known as stealing others brilliancy...navigation structure, textured background...my God I am a fraud. An Andy Warhol. A Google ganker...
My head was stuffy, so I took a walk during lunch. Up and down Marshall Street, crossing the road here and there and then turning around and retracing my steps. The mechanic working on the Saturn VUE asked me if I was lost. "No not lost, just going nowhere."
Who is going to clean up all that trash on Marshall Street? Trash blown out of the garbage truck, dumpsters carelessly losing their cargo, vile filth, broken Barbie dolls with knotty hair, greasy pizza boxes, stray walmart bags. All this trash collecting against the temporary walls of Goshen and Gilmer Street. And these plastic bottles...when will those degrade?
My brother's wife had their third child last week. His name is Isequeal...I don't know how to spell that, I like the name, it rhymes with MySQL. After the baby was born my brother bought a motorcycle and today he took his 5 year old daughter fishing.
Back in the office I had a leak of ideas. Just a leak mind you, no waterfall. {consequently did you hear about the $15million waterfall feature some danish artist built in Manhatten?} The leak was enough to get underway with a design...my design. A design I designed. Now tomorrow I'll need to get in early to get ahead of that design...
Tonight I cooked a pound of scallops. I picked two warm cucumbers from Chris's garden and chopped them with some fresh basil and oregano. I marinated them in balsamic vinegar. Then I ate the whole pound of scallops with a glass of red wine.
Tomorrow I will organize the pieces of my world, I will get them all in the designated cubbies. But for tonight I have enough energy to read 1 bedtime story to the girls and fall asleep with my makeup on.
My head was stuffy, so I took a walk during lunch. Up and down Marshall Street, crossing the road here and there and then turning around and retracing my steps. The mechanic working on the Saturn VUE asked me if I was lost. "No not lost, just going nowhere."
Who is going to clean up all that trash on Marshall Street? Trash blown out of the garbage truck, dumpsters carelessly losing their cargo, vile filth, broken Barbie dolls with knotty hair, greasy pizza boxes, stray walmart bags. All this trash collecting against the temporary walls of Goshen and Gilmer Street. And these plastic bottles...when will those degrade?
My brother's wife had their third child last week. His name is Isequeal...I don't know how to spell that, I like the name, it rhymes with MySQL. After the baby was born my brother bought a motorcycle and today he took his 5 year old daughter fishing.
Back in the office I had a leak of ideas. Just a leak mind you, no waterfall. {consequently did you hear about the $15million waterfall feature some danish artist built in Manhatten?} The leak was enough to get underway with a design...my design. A design I designed. Now tomorrow I'll need to get in early to get ahead of that design...
Tonight I cooked a pound of scallops. I picked two warm cucumbers from Chris's garden and chopped them with some fresh basil and oregano. I marinated them in balsamic vinegar. Then I ate the whole pound of scallops with a glass of red wine.
Tomorrow I will organize the pieces of my world, I will get them all in the designated cubbies. But for tonight I have enough energy to read 1 bedtime story to the girls and fall asleep with my makeup on.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
9 PM from the Big Apple
I am in New York, again, this time on a business trip. The weather is brutally hot. I ate lunch at a small expensive sandwich shop on the SeaPort, the restaurant was crowded, the server sat me on a corner of an already occupied table. My dinner mates were from Ireland, but I was weary and not in the mood to hear tell of their family vacation so I opened my computer and did an impressive job of acting occupied through lunch.
But there was one thing I couldn't help but notice. The young girl (she was probably 15) was wearing a shirt with her bra showing in the back. The straps of her bra were twisted. It looked painful to the point when I couldn't stop myself from offering to straighten her out. "Would you like me to untangle your bra strap?" I asked her. She laughed and said yes. It was a strange thing of me to ask, and a strange thing for her to accept. But it didn't seem to bother either of us, as two women who have to deal with these inconveniences in life. I fixed it, she was grateful, I paid my bill and walked out onto the boardwalk.
Along the way back to the hotel, I stopped in Borders bookstore on Wall St and Broadway to get out of the oppressive heat that had settled over New York. I ordered a Dean and Deluca large ice tea, I drank the entire cup without stopping to breath. I would have asked for another but there were no free refills and the tea had cost 4 bucks and tasted old and filmy.
Borders was a fitting place for me to spend an afternoon. I collect books in the manner that some women collect shoes. I adore books, but more like a piece of art, rarely finding time or patience to read more than a few lines.
For this reason, and because I commute 40 minutes each way to work, I greatly enjoy books on tape. My all time favorite is a delicious little novel … Eat, Pray, Love.
Though I obviously own this book on cd, I like typography, oh and cracking book binds. For months I've wanted to buy a paper copy of that book, for a specific purpose that might make some cringe, cover your ears at this part, I want to own a paper copy of this book so that I can cut out pages and post them in my journal. Really I need two copies, in case I cut one side but needed the text from the other side of the page too. Throwing myself in front of the morality book train a little more forcefully, I admit to you that I have already cut up a number of well written book passages that have made my heart patter, including, sigh, a couple of passages from Genesis out of two gently used Bibles.
So I'm looking at Eat, Pray, Love, and it's $15, no discount. And I'm thinking about my favorite passage in which she describes a beautiful Venetian woman who fell in love with a man who left her with three children and a broken heart. The author describes the woman as saying "He was powerful, and I died of love in his shadow."
This passage makes my intestines wiggly. It moves me profoundly into a state of sad irrepair. I want to cut this passage out and paste it in my journal so that I can mourn with this woman, in an emo trance I'll call poetry.
But $15 just to mutilate this book for a passage… is that sound commerce?…. I pick up the book, fan the pages against my palm, (this is a strange habit I have which allows me to feel the energy of the book without reading it, quacky I know, bite me), and then I bend the paperback up and down looking at the cover. I opened up the book somewhere in the middle of the tale, and am baffled to look down at the words "He was powerful, and I died of love in his shadow." By dumb chance I'd turned right to the passage that I'd been mulling over for the last 15 minutes, and honestly I'd been mulling over for the last 15 months since I initially heard those words.
I don't need to tell you folks, that's some kinda magic.
Nevertheless, I didn't buy the book. Instead I picked up 2 books on graphic design and the latest Chuck Palahniuk novel.
I opened the 15 foot high doors, with relative ease, and walked out on the Manhattan streets, shoving the Borders bag into my massive yellow tote. And then I realized it was raining, pouring rain, and the road was steaming from the days heat. Street vendors quickly wrapped up the watches, t-shirts, and handbags on their tables, and replaced them with umbrellas and rain ponchos. Witnessing this efficient crossover of goods, I concluded that New York street vendors have perfected the art of opportunism. Wall Street indeed.
Back at the hotel I ordered an overpriced Margareta pizza from a local pizza oven, and cuddle under the covers to review my new books and tomorrows agenda. It's fairly quiet here, just the hum of the AC units, and distant murmur of traffic. I miss my kids. I call Chris for the 4th time today but he gets annoyed so I leave him alone and decide to live here in this hotel room for the next 2 days easing into my loneliness… After all, I've been away from home before. I can do this.
I'm still in bed now, next to an empty pizza box, trying to hack into some locals wifi so that I can post this blog. I haven't hacked in yet, but I did find out that Microsoft Word can spell check Palahniuk's name…impressive, eh? Goodnight everyone.
But there was one thing I couldn't help but notice. The young girl (she was probably 15) was wearing a shirt with her bra showing in the back. The straps of her bra were twisted. It looked painful to the point when I couldn't stop myself from offering to straighten her out. "Would you like me to untangle your bra strap?" I asked her. She laughed and said yes. It was a strange thing of me to ask, and a strange thing for her to accept. But it didn't seem to bother either of us, as two women who have to deal with these inconveniences in life. I fixed it, she was grateful, I paid my bill and walked out onto the boardwalk.
Along the way back to the hotel, I stopped in Borders bookstore on Wall St and Broadway to get out of the oppressive heat that had settled over New York. I ordered a Dean and Deluca large ice tea, I drank the entire cup without stopping to breath. I would have asked for another but there were no free refills and the tea had cost 4 bucks and tasted old and filmy.
Borders was a fitting place for me to spend an afternoon. I collect books in the manner that some women collect shoes. I adore books, but more like a piece of art, rarely finding time or patience to read more than a few lines.
For this reason, and because I commute 40 minutes each way to work, I greatly enjoy books on tape. My all time favorite is a delicious little novel … Eat, Pray, Love.
Though I obviously own this book on cd, I like typography, oh and cracking book binds. For months I've wanted to buy a paper copy of that book, for a specific purpose that might make some cringe, cover your ears at this part, I want to own a paper copy of this book so that I can cut out pages and post them in my journal. Really I need two copies, in case I cut one side but needed the text from the other side of the page too. Throwing myself in front of the morality book train a little more forcefully, I admit to you that I have already cut up a number of well written book passages that have made my heart patter, including, sigh, a couple of passages from Genesis out of two gently used Bibles.
So I'm looking at Eat, Pray, Love, and it's $15, no discount. And I'm thinking about my favorite passage in which she describes a beautiful Venetian woman who fell in love with a man who left her with three children and a broken heart. The author describes the woman as saying "He was powerful, and I died of love in his shadow."
This passage makes my intestines wiggly. It moves me profoundly into a state of sad irrepair. I want to cut this passage out and paste it in my journal so that I can mourn with this woman, in an emo trance I'll call poetry.
But $15 just to mutilate this book for a passage… is that sound commerce?…. I pick up the book, fan the pages against my palm, (this is a strange habit I have which allows me to feel the energy of the book without reading it, quacky I know, bite me), and then I bend the paperback up and down looking at the cover. I opened up the book somewhere in the middle of the tale, and am baffled to look down at the words "He was powerful, and I died of love in his shadow." By dumb chance I'd turned right to the passage that I'd been mulling over for the last 15 minutes, and honestly I'd been mulling over for the last 15 months since I initially heard those words.
I don't need to tell you folks, that's some kinda magic.
Nevertheless, I didn't buy the book. Instead I picked up 2 books on graphic design and the latest Chuck Palahniuk novel.
I opened the 15 foot high doors, with relative ease, and walked out on the Manhattan streets, shoving the Borders bag into my massive yellow tote. And then I realized it was raining, pouring rain, and the road was steaming from the days heat. Street vendors quickly wrapped up the watches, t-shirts, and handbags on their tables, and replaced them with umbrellas and rain ponchos. Witnessing this efficient crossover of goods, I concluded that New York street vendors have perfected the art of opportunism. Wall Street indeed.
Back at the hotel I ordered an overpriced Margareta pizza from a local pizza oven, and cuddle under the covers to review my new books and tomorrows agenda. It's fairly quiet here, just the hum of the AC units, and distant murmur of traffic. I miss my kids. I call Chris for the 4th time today but he gets annoyed so I leave him alone and decide to live here in this hotel room for the next 2 days easing into my loneliness… After all, I've been away from home before. I can do this.
I'm still in bed now, next to an empty pizza box, trying to hack into some locals wifi so that I can post this blog. I haven't hacked in yet, but I did find out that Microsoft Word can spell check Palahniuk's name…impressive, eh? Goodnight everyone.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Life on My New Planet
I started my new job Tuesday. So far I only have one reaction: I love it here. The ship has landed. I am home.
Yesterday I arranged myself in my new cubical. A cube! How exciting! Since starting at VCU 9 years ago I have moved from job to job and always had my own office. Now, I have a cubical. So does my boss, and my boss's boss. I have come to understand that in the techy world we all have cubicles. And my new cube is magnificent. A large clean workspace. One wall made of white board backing. Two built in bookshelves, and my own locker area. I also have a trash can and a recycling can that are emptied every night. At most VCU offices the trash cans are emptied once a week.
My monitor is enormous, I unpacked it yesterday in the same way Nigella Lawson might unpack a sleeve of butter. My computer came in this morning, sexy gorgeous beast of a computer. Connecting the apple monitor to the apple laptop is like pouring honey into milk. Together they form the most beautiful miracle since the birth of my daughters.
Yesterday was my first staff meeting experience. 9 people. I should say 8 men and me. The only girl. Excuse me, woman. Let me introduce the ones I remember.
Don Hu - The work horse/guru of the crowd. Speaks english but I can't understand a darned thing he says. When watching President Bush give a speech he seems really entertained. Not sure what this means yet. I will keep you posted.
Jim (aka Boss) - Smiles a lot. Sandwiches thoughts between anecdotes. For instance: "This friend of mine sells foam to spray on military tents in Iraq which would cut the energy costs by 95%. Make sure you call Tim about that glitch in the LDAP system. I golfed at the most expensive golf course in Richmond this weekend. Let me tell you, that was a rip off."
The Borg - This consists of two people. For purposes here I will call them The-Man-Who-Collects-Dancing-Hampsters and A-Guy-Whos-Desk-Defies-Gravity. Collectively they call themselves "The Borg". "Well actually," they say taking turns between each word, "we are quasi-borg. You don't know what a Borg is? Star Trek. The Borgs share a brain. Their slogan is 'We will assimilate you' and ours is the same, but quasi because it's also 'We will assist you'". I am amazed but try to be clever in my response: "You assist them in assimilation?" They thought this was quite funny. Score!
Attitude Man - You know that guy....that guy when you say "Biology called, they need a new server" who follows that up with "Thats because they blew the last one with their so-called Science." Or "Humanities and Sciences needs assistance with their DNS change." And he quips "That's not all they need. They need to clear out those morons that work there." Yeah, that sums him up pretty well. Not sure what this means yet. I will keep you posted.
Two Nice Guys - There are two very nice guys. They are the closest to my age. Everyone else is in their 40's plus. These two are early 30s and they are nice. Yeah. That's all I have on them.
Right now I am eating lunch in the massive kitchen in this building. It's gorgeous. Every wall in this building is painted a different (normally offensive) color. Puke green. Violent orange. But together the ugly colors work together creating an energizing environment. The ceiling in open. Air vents hang above. I love this place.
Yesterday I arranged myself in my new cubical. A cube! How exciting! Since starting at VCU 9 years ago I have moved from job to job and always had my own office. Now, I have a cubical. So does my boss, and my boss's boss. I have come to understand that in the techy world we all have cubicles. And my new cube is magnificent. A large clean workspace. One wall made of white board backing. Two built in bookshelves, and my own locker area. I also have a trash can and a recycling can that are emptied every night. At most VCU offices the trash cans are emptied once a week.
My monitor is enormous, I unpacked it yesterday in the same way Nigella Lawson might unpack a sleeve of butter. My computer came in this morning, sexy gorgeous beast of a computer. Connecting the apple monitor to the apple laptop is like pouring honey into milk. Together they form the most beautiful miracle since the birth of my daughters.
Yesterday was my first staff meeting experience. 9 people. I should say 8 men and me. The only girl. Excuse me, woman. Let me introduce the ones I remember.
Don Hu - The work horse/guru of the crowd. Speaks english but I can't understand a darned thing he says. When watching President Bush give a speech he seems really entertained. Not sure what this means yet. I will keep you posted.
Jim (aka Boss) - Smiles a lot. Sandwiches thoughts between anecdotes. For instance: "This friend of mine sells foam to spray on military tents in Iraq which would cut the energy costs by 95%. Make sure you call Tim about that glitch in the LDAP system. I golfed at the most expensive golf course in Richmond this weekend. Let me tell you, that was a rip off."
The Borg - This consists of two people. For purposes here I will call them The-Man-Who-Collects-Dancing-Hampsters and A-Guy-Whos-Desk-Defies-Gravity. Collectively they call themselves "The Borg". "Well actually," they say taking turns between each word, "we are quasi-borg. You don't know what a Borg is? Star Trek. The Borgs share a brain. Their slogan is 'We will assimilate you' and ours is the same, but quasi because it's also 'We will assist you'". I am amazed but try to be clever in my response: "You assist them in assimilation?" They thought this was quite funny. Score!
Attitude Man - You know that guy....that guy when you say "Biology called, they need a new server" who follows that up with "Thats because they blew the last one with their so-called Science." Or "Humanities and Sciences needs assistance with their DNS change." And he quips "That's not all they need. They need to clear out those morons that work there." Yeah, that sums him up pretty well. Not sure what this means yet. I will keep you posted.
Two Nice Guys - There are two very nice guys. They are the closest to my age. Everyone else is in their 40's plus. These two are early 30s and they are nice. Yeah. That's all I have on them.
Right now I am eating lunch in the massive kitchen in this building. It's gorgeous. Every wall in this building is painted a different (normally offensive) color. Puke green. Violent orange. But together the ugly colors work together creating an energizing environment. The ceiling in open. Air vents hang above. I love this place.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Last Tuesday at SOE
Today is my last Tuesday at my current job. A random Tuesday would appear insignificant but then I think about the number of Tuesdays over the last 3 years that I was late to work because I spent 30 minutes looking for a parking spot near my building, and I get a little sad knowing that next Tuesday I'll be circling around another block a half a mile away.
All that nostalgia aside, I am so darned stoked that today is my last Tuesday in the School of Education. The thing is, I am kinda scared. I am not just switching jobs, I am changing careers totally. Luckily I am only 31, but unfortunately I am 31. 31 with a mortgage, 2 car payments, 2 children, and an (out of control) equity line. So this job has to work...it has to be my ticket to the big cash pot at the end of the suburban rainbow.
Boy, did I eat out this past weekend!.
Friday lunch my office took Karen to Maggianos in Short Pump. I nearly cashed out my children's college fund to pay for a luke warm plate of eggplant parmesean and a bitter piece of dry bread. Total bill = $32.
Friday night I hung out at Stool Pigeons with, my latest favorite person, Dana. She ordered some gross animal remains (also known as hamburgers) and I ordered a totally untasty plate of nachos. Total with beer = $25.
Saturday morning I was cleaning the house for mother in laws visit. Breakfast was a bagel and latte from Starbucks. Total = $8. Kids and hubby ate donuts (yuck!).
Saturday lunch was sushi at Wasabi. Total = $12. Kids and hubby ate Burger King (yuck!).
Saturday Dinner was pizza from Papa Johns. Omg, I ordered the 6 cheese pizza and I nearly fainted, it was so tasty. Total = $32.
Sunday morning Payton and I woke early and took pictures in Shockoe Bottom. Quick Starbucks munchies and latte = $13.
Sunday lunch with Chris's Dad and future wife at Buffalo Wild Wings = $75.
Okay I need a break. I can't believe the money I spend on eating out. And the calories!!
There was also CiCi's Pizza on Thursday and Little Mexico yesterday for lunch with Maggie. (Love ya Magster!). Oh and the latte with Karen yesterday afternoon at Crossroads.
I'm starting to think I have issues. That is only 4 1/2 days!
No wonder my equity line is out of control.
Yikes.
All that nostalgia aside, I am so darned stoked that today is my last Tuesday in the School of Education. The thing is, I am kinda scared. I am not just switching jobs, I am changing careers totally. Luckily I am only 31, but unfortunately I am 31. 31 with a mortgage, 2 car payments, 2 children, and an (out of control) equity line. So this job has to work...it has to be my ticket to the big cash pot at the end of the suburban rainbow.
Boy, did I eat out this past weekend!.
Friday lunch my office took Karen to Maggianos in Short Pump. I nearly cashed out my children's college fund to pay for a luke warm plate of eggplant parmesean and a bitter piece of dry bread. Total bill = $32.
Friday night I hung out at Stool Pigeons with, my latest favorite person, Dana. She ordered some gross animal remains (also known as hamburgers) and I ordered a totally untasty plate of nachos. Total with beer = $25.
Saturday morning I was cleaning the house for mother in laws visit. Breakfast was a bagel and latte from Starbucks. Total = $8. Kids and hubby ate donuts (yuck!).
Saturday lunch was sushi at Wasabi. Total = $12. Kids and hubby ate Burger King (yuck!).
Saturday Dinner was pizza from Papa Johns. Omg, I ordered the 6 cheese pizza and I nearly fainted, it was so tasty. Total = $32.
Sunday morning Payton and I woke early and took pictures in Shockoe Bottom. Quick Starbucks munchies and latte = $13.
Sunday lunch with Chris's Dad and future wife at Buffalo Wild Wings = $75.
Okay I need a break. I can't believe the money I spend on eating out. And the calories!!
There was also CiCi's Pizza on Thursday and Little Mexico yesterday for lunch with Maggie. (Love ya Magster!). Oh and the latte with Karen yesterday afternoon at Crossroads.
I'm starting to think I have issues. That is only 4 1/2 days!
No wonder my equity line is out of control.
Yikes.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Sunday Quiet
Right now the children are snuggled under layers of freshly laundered quilts. Chris is watching a TV show about Frito Lay's assembly line. Therefore, I am blessed with a quiet handful of me-time hours.
My first task was to look through the dozens of picture I snapped this evening. Boy did it rain tonight! Our skinny ditch quickly turned into a wadding pond. When the rain slowed, the air filled with a beautiful ethereal light. A green freshness mirrored from tree to tree and then across the street pavement casting a lovely brightness against the dark clouds. A bit of sun helped form gentle shadows of dripping trees down onto the wet grass.
What a sight! So I grabbed my camera and started shooting...the sky, the trees, the water droplets on the deck...I wanted to capture that light. But I quickly realized that unless I master aperture and f stops, I'll only produce black and blurry photos.
Rather then reference the seventeen books that I own with names like "How-To-Use-Your-$1000-Camera", I used my misplaced sense of expertise to determine that a tripod would cure all my photography woes. So Chris and I searched the house For something that would hold the camera steady. We settled on a ladder, which would have been ideal, however one rung was too high, producing pointless pictures of tree branches in the sky; and the next rung was too low, producing what you see below:
Now, this picture isn't going to win me any awards, I posted it mainly because I took 62 pictures and, dammit, I was going to post at least one of them!
Oh I also have to post this picture:
I have to post this picture because of this conversation:
ME: Look honey we've got marijuana growing in our yard!
HUBBY: That isn't marijuana, its a weed.
ME: Baby that isn't just any weed, it's THE weed, mary jane, the good stuff
HUBBY: No it's a weed...now you are going to blog about how we have weed growing in our yard
ME: Of course I am! It's right there!
I have a new obsession. This is scary for me to admit, but I have to put it out on the table. First let me say I rebel against Vera Bradley purses, I mean seriously? Those are totally frumpy. This, too was the way I felt about Yankee candles, but more because the store's smell sent me into mini convulsions. However, I learned that Cracker Barrel (Geez thats another place I swore I'd never visit or be seen visiting) sells Yankee Candles, and on a whim I purchased one. And I burned it for 4 days straight. Thats almost 100 hours! And I fell madly in love with the comforting smell of my house. In fact I fell in love with my house again, because of that $25 candle. Today I am on my 3rd Yankee Candle. This one is called Dune Grass:
Oh it's yummy. yummy. yummy.
Here are two more pictures I retouched tonight of my restful buddha bookends:
Now I am contemplating bed. I am reading "100 Years of Solitude" and I'm at the point where 10 people are name Jose Arcadio Buendia. I'm confused who is the great-great-grandfather and who is he shagging. You know, because it's the parts with the shagging that really hold my attention.
Tomorrow I get to tell my boss I found another job and I QUIT!
Ah, just another day. What a blessed life I have.
My first task was to look through the dozens of picture I snapped this evening. Boy did it rain tonight! Our skinny ditch quickly turned into a wadding pond. When the rain slowed, the air filled with a beautiful ethereal light. A green freshness mirrored from tree to tree and then across the street pavement casting a lovely brightness against the dark clouds. A bit of sun helped form gentle shadows of dripping trees down onto the wet grass.
What a sight! So I grabbed my camera and started shooting...the sky, the trees, the water droplets on the deck...I wanted to capture that light. But I quickly realized that unless I master aperture and f stops, I'll only produce black and blurry photos.
Rather then reference the seventeen books that I own with names like "How-To-Use-Your-$1000-Camera", I used my misplaced sense of expertise to determine that a tripod would cure all my photography woes. So Chris and I searched the house For something that would hold the camera steady. We settled on a ladder, which would have been ideal, however one rung was too high, producing pointless pictures of tree branches in the sky; and the next rung was too low, producing what you see below:
Now, this picture isn't going to win me any awards, I posted it mainly because I took 62 pictures and, dammit, I was going to post at least one of them!
Oh I also have to post this picture:
I have to post this picture because of this conversation:
ME: Look honey we've got marijuana growing in our yard!
HUBBY: That isn't marijuana, its a weed.
ME: Baby that isn't just any weed, it's THE weed, mary jane, the good stuff
HUBBY: No it's a weed...now you are going to blog about how we have weed growing in our yard
ME: Of course I am! It's right there!
I have a new obsession. This is scary for me to admit, but I have to put it out on the table. First let me say I rebel against Vera Bradley purses, I mean seriously? Those are totally frumpy. This, too was the way I felt about Yankee candles, but more because the store's smell sent me into mini convulsions. However, I learned that Cracker Barrel (Geez thats another place I swore I'd never visit or be seen visiting) sells Yankee Candles, and on a whim I purchased one. And I burned it for 4 days straight. Thats almost 100 hours! And I fell madly in love with the comforting smell of my house. In fact I fell in love with my house again, because of that $25 candle. Today I am on my 3rd Yankee Candle. This one is called Dune Grass:
Oh it's yummy. yummy. yummy.
Here are two more pictures I retouched tonight of my restful buddha bookends:
Now I am contemplating bed. I am reading "100 Years of Solitude" and I'm at the point where 10 people are name Jose Arcadio Buendia. I'm confused who is the great-great-grandfather and who is he shagging. You know, because it's the parts with the shagging that really hold my attention.
Tomorrow I get to tell my boss I found another job and I QUIT!
Ah, just another day. What a blessed life I have.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Parking Paranoia
I'm late (everyday) and I decide to make 1 loop around Cary Street looking for free parking. Usually I give in and park in the $5/day deck. (Don't you just love paying to come to work!)
This morning as I was circling the block guess what! a car backed out of a spot RIGHT in front of the building. So I pulled in carefully. Put the car in park. And spent the next 5 minutes walking up and down the street looking for "No Parking" signs. No parking on Thursday...okay it's Tuesday. Is it Tuesday? I think it's Tuesday. What are those cones a quarter mile up the road? Could those have blown down the street? Was this spot supposed to be coned off for sewer line mantainance? Are there any of those flimsy street cleaning signs that may have blown over? Am I far enough from the crosswalk? The fire hydrant? Could I be towed or booted? Do I have any outstanding parking tickets? Hmmm, I think I'm okay. But am I? Am I sure? Let me turn around and look one more time. Could it be possible that I was able to score this good of a parking spot?
God, I hope my car is here when I come out of work this afternoon.
This morning as I was circling the block guess what! a car backed out of a spot RIGHT in front of the building. So I pulled in carefully. Put the car in park. And spent the next 5 minutes walking up and down the street looking for "No Parking" signs. No parking on Thursday...okay it's Tuesday. Is it Tuesday? I think it's Tuesday. What are those cones a quarter mile up the road? Could those have blown down the street? Was this spot supposed to be coned off for sewer line mantainance? Are there any of those flimsy street cleaning signs that may have blown over? Am I far enough from the crosswalk? The fire hydrant? Could I be towed or booted? Do I have any outstanding parking tickets? Hmmm, I think I'm okay. But am I? Am I sure? Let me turn around and look one more time. Could it be possible that I was able to score this good of a parking spot?
God, I hope my car is here when I come out of work this afternoon.
Monday, February 25, 2008
I'm too much of an Aries to be Invisible
Saturday I pushed myself. I was fed up with hitting the wall at mile 2.5. Unacceptable mediocrity. I aimed to run at least 4 miles. Nonstop. And I did, mostly. I ran 4 miles. Though it turned in to an awkward jog/hopping/hunched over debacle towards the end.
I went out, again, on Sunday, and I stiff and achy. I could only walk 2.5 miles.
I took off my headphones and listened to the wind blowing through the tree's upmost limbs. The temperature was 50 degrees, I reminded myself that this is winter. The branches are bear. The water is cold. I noticed a certain type of bush that was still clinging onto yellow flaky leaves, as though autumn had not come and gone. The trees, the moss, the squirrels, and I... we are waiting for snow.
I didn't go running today. The weekdays are tough for running. I leave early, come home late, and it's all such a waste of time, you know, this work thing. What a fucking waste of time.
It's all really pointless. I think the word "administrator" is a catch word for "person who occupies their time with busy pointless paperwork".
I should have been a folk singer. I really wanted to do that.
I really wanted to do that.
Why didn't I do that?
Friday means NYC. I need NYC right now. MoMA. Time Square. 5th Avenue. With my Nikon D80. (The one I don't own yet). Maybe I'll stay in the hotel and look out the window all day. People watch. Maybe I'll ride the subway for 4 hours, take pictures of the tube rats. Maybe I'll sit on St. Patrick's church pew and light a candle for my grandfather and all the people in the world who need someone to pray for them.
I went out, again, on Sunday, and I stiff and achy. I could only walk 2.5 miles.
I took off my headphones and listened to the wind blowing through the tree's upmost limbs. The temperature was 50 degrees, I reminded myself that this is winter. The branches are bear. The water is cold. I noticed a certain type of bush that was still clinging onto yellow flaky leaves, as though autumn had not come and gone. The trees, the moss, the squirrels, and I... we are waiting for snow.
I didn't go running today. The weekdays are tough for running. I leave early, come home late, and it's all such a waste of time, you know, this work thing. What a fucking waste of time.
It's all really pointless. I think the word "administrator" is a catch word for "person who occupies their time with busy pointless paperwork".
I should have been a folk singer. I really wanted to do that.
I really wanted to do that.
Why didn't I do that?
Friday means NYC. I need NYC right now. MoMA. Time Square. 5th Avenue. With my Nikon D80. (The one I don't own yet). Maybe I'll stay in the hotel and look out the window all day. People watch. Maybe I'll ride the subway for 4 hours, take pictures of the tube rats. Maybe I'll sit on St. Patrick's church pew and light a candle for my grandfather and all the people in the world who need someone to pray for them.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Yada Yada Part I
Just got back from lunch with Angelica where she fed a stray dog her entire lunch - a lunch I paid for!
I ordered a tempeh wrap which they made with Fakin' Bacon - tasted awful. I fed half my wrap to that stray dog, too.
I found this great site: I Can't Believe it's Vegan: a list of vegan food one might not know is vegan, such as Oreos, Fritos, and cake frosting. Yum.
In other news, this morning I ran an astonishing 1 mile (that's sarcasm kids). I was faced with two major contraints, one in my thigh, and the other was the man. You know, the man at work who fires you when you are repeaditly late.
My thigh is much better, though "the man" still gets me down from time to time.
Here is a totally unrealted random story.
1. I applied for a web design job.
2. I interview. Rad.
3. I wait.
4. Posting for position is cancelled.
5. Posting revised at higher pay with additional duties.
6. I pass on applying, assuming they want someone more qualified.
7. I receive email from man who interviewed me, says "position reposted" and "feel free to reapply"
I am trying to decide if I should reapply. He did take the time to send me a personalized email. But is reapplying an effective use of my time? Funny thing is, I was just thinking about emailing him and asking him if there was something in particular lacking from my portfolio.
I am listening to this conversation:
Ph.D. 1: I made my lunch and left it on the counter and it's Friday so I can't bring it tomorrow.
Ph.D. 2: Well eat it for lunch tomorrow.
Ph.D. 1: Nah, I can't do that. It's a work lunch. Not a Saturday lunch.
Ph.D. 2: Yeah, that's too bad.
And for faculty at VCU these type of things ARE too bad, like way bad, like devastatingly write a paper get a grant to study the long term psychological effects bad. Oh and then there are environmental impacts, and time conflicts, and tax inflation in restaraunts in Metro Richmond. All which could have been avoided had that Ph.D. remembered his damn lunch. Hell, Dr. So&So look what responsibility you have on your shoulders as the foremost human being on planet earth.
I ordered a tempeh wrap which they made with Fakin' Bacon - tasted awful. I fed half my wrap to that stray dog, too.
I found this great site: I Can't Believe it's Vegan: a list of vegan food one might not know is vegan, such as Oreos, Fritos, and cake frosting. Yum.
In other news, this morning I ran an astonishing 1 mile (that's sarcasm kids). I was faced with two major contraints, one in my thigh, and the other was the man. You know, the man at work who fires you when you are repeaditly late.
My thigh is much better, though "the man" still gets me down from time to time.
Here is a totally unrealted random story.
1. I applied for a web design job.
2. I interview. Rad.
3. I wait.
4. Posting for position is cancelled.
5. Posting revised at higher pay with additional duties.
6. I pass on applying, assuming they want someone more qualified.
7. I receive email from man who interviewed me, says "position reposted" and "feel free to reapply"
I am trying to decide if I should reapply. He did take the time to send me a personalized email. But is reapplying an effective use of my time? Funny thing is, I was just thinking about emailing him and asking him if there was something in particular lacking from my portfolio.
I am listening to this conversation:
Ph.D. 1: I made my lunch and left it on the counter and it's Friday so I can't bring it tomorrow.
Ph.D. 2: Well eat it for lunch tomorrow.
Ph.D. 1: Nah, I can't do that. It's a work lunch. Not a Saturday lunch.
Ph.D. 2: Yeah, that's too bad.
And for faculty at VCU these type of things ARE too bad, like way bad, like devastatingly write a paper get a grant to study the long term psychological effects bad. Oh and then there are environmental impacts, and time conflicts, and tax inflation in restaraunts in Metro Richmond. All which could have been avoided had that Ph.D. remembered his damn lunch. Hell, Dr. So&So look what responsibility you have on your shoulders as the foremost human being on planet earth.
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