Random tidbits.

It's no wonder people read chick lit, terrible romance novels, mindless fluff. Such books never come out in hardcover. They are small, easily held, light. My most recent tome of choice is too heavy to hold up for long while I relax in my hammock. When people say light summer reading, I think they mean it literally!

I got in my car after work today and reached for my chapstick. Something didn't feel right, though. My hand got sticky, and I was nervous to take the cap off. My poor, poor lip balm did not just get a little melty, a little smooshy; it started to liquefy.

You know it's a bad traffic day when 30 on the highway seems recklessly fast.

My sister and I beat my grandma and Chuck at bridge. We won three games in a row, which apparently has a special name. "You got a 700 rubber? Well that's just disgusting." Thanks, grandma, I knew you'd be proud of us for learning so well.

I managed to coax a few freckles out of hiding today. I've missed them dearly.

Did I mention I'll be moving out soon? I don't yet know where, but Jess and I will soon be roommates once again. About damn time, eh?

There's more. There's always more. But I am woefully behind on sleep, and I must go attempt to remedy that.

The Little Things

Having been out of windshield washer fluid for a good two weeks now, it gives me a disproportionate level of glee that the dealership filled it up during my car's check-up this evening.

I seriously giggled maniacally.

Editor Extraordinaire

It's day 2, and I love my new job. Today, everyone who could make it from the Creative Department went out for a team lunch to welcome me. I think there were about 20 of us at this delicious Mexican buffet. (Ps, it's a good thing I wasn't aware that Mexican buffets existed before now. I might be in trouble here. Mexican is my favorite.) My coworkers are nice and welcoming and, best of all, hilarious. They poke fun at each other all the time, and it's just a very relaxed and awesome environment. A couple of them were playing Carcassonne on their iphones with each other, and they were crazy impressed/shocked that I knew what it was.

Also, I have a desk! I have never had my own desk before, and I can't even tell you how excited I am about it. Today I made a voicemail message for my direct line and got my email set up. I'm learning my way around the very maze-like building (seriously, some of the cubes are over six feet tall! Why?!), starting to kinda sorta remember the names of people outside my immediate Editing department, and loving every minute so far. I want to bring cleaning wipes and dust everything in my cube. Think my fellow editors (there are three of us that sit in the "Editors' Lounge") will think I'm crazy? I haven't actually spent much time in my cube or at my desk yet, as I've been training with my boss, which involves doing my work in his office so we can discuss it. It's weird how excited I am to arrange to my liking and fill my drawers with things and decorate.

Oh. Would you like to know about my actual job? So far, I'm rocking it. My red pen is mighty indeed. I miss things, because I'm new, and I don't know exactly how things like formatting work around here, and my eyes are too new to notice things like the font being a half a point off, but I'm doing well. I have a handy editing guide, a dictionary, and lots of people to ask if I have questions. I can't believe I spent so much time flight attending and banking without being anxious to get into my field; now that I'm here, I never want to leave. I truly love commas, guys, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Editing has been the ultimate goal in my mind for almost ten years now (since summer 2002), and it makes me so, so happy to finally be doing it.


In other adventurous news, I went over to the ginger's place after work on Saturday. I've seen him every weekend since he saved me from the wedding I crashed, usually around 2am. This time, it was 2pm. We hung out for awhile, watched an episode of Sex and the City (seriously.), and then went on a walk and sat and talked at a coffee shop. It was...quite lovely, actually.

This past weekend I went to see a show called Girls Only, the Secret Comedy of Women. If you get a chance to see this performed, GO. I was laughing so hard I was almost in tears a couple of times. I'm considering going again with a bunch of girlfriends in tow, that's how good it was.


Things are just...really good. I have a new job that I love, a new mysterious entanglement I'm enjoying, friends that are awesome, the shiny new prospect of moving out sooner rather than later... Suffice it to say, I'm smiling a lot these days. And that, dear readers, is a wonderful thing.

Nine to five.

Once again, I find myself quitting a job that, though unrelated to my field, I've enjoyed and met great people through.

This time, however, I will not be unemployed. I am quitting the bank because I have my first real, post-college, degree-related job. On Tuesday, I accepted a position as Assistant Editor at a catalog. I get a desk, and coworkers, and an 8 to 5, Monday to Friday schedule, and benefits, and a livable wage! I could not be more excited about this.

On top of that, I'm leaving the bank on a high note. I got two top-boxes today (highest possible scores on customer satisfaction surveys), which is super important to this company. In recognition, I got to take home a sweet camping chair! Aww yeah. Everyone has been very sad upon finding out that I'm leaving, which makes me feel proud. I've clearly made a good impression and done a good job here. The store manager even told me that if things don't work out at the catalog, I still have a place there!

I'll miss the transactions, which I've gotten very speedy at, and the people, who are overall awesome, but I'll tell you what, I sure won't miss handling filthy money all day.

Things are not always as they seem.

So... so maybe I'm not as fucked up as I thought? Or maybe I am, but maybe my gut feelings, when they warn me away from a guy, are not wrong.

I did not bail on lunch with the coworker, and we actually had a really nice time. Saw him a few other times outside of work, and ended up joining him at a wedding reception on Saturday night. He was in the wedding, but I just crashed it later for the dancing and open bar. Unfortunately, things went downhill from there.

I think people can reveal a lot about themselves while drunk. Not always, but sometimes you get a glimpse of them that you otherwise wouldn't. Add to the alcohol trying to impress his friends and trying to impress me, and color me... well, unimpressed. Also, our kissing styles just do not really mesh. (I can be so diplomatic sometimes.) As time went/goes on, he seems less like he's making himself available, and a little more pushy/desperate.

Ugh. I have this fear of people encountering my blog. If you are a true internet sleuth, you can find it, even if you don't even know I have a blog. So I fear there are, right now, coworkers reading this. Coworkers who suspect this guy and I have been seeing each other, but who we have told otherwise. Coworkers who barely know me, but know and love this guy. Perhaps even this guy himself? Hopefully I'm just paranoid. If not... well, then I'm sorry you're reading this. But hey, it's my blog, and I did, after all, call it (Mis)Adventures in Life and Love, did I not? So I'll continue unabashedly.

Around 2am, I got fed up with how the night was going. Knowing I was unable to drive, though, I didn't have many options. So I texted the only person I know in Minneapolis proper (who, bonus, I figured was very likely to be out at 2am on a Saturday): the tall, charming ginger from the bar from February. He called me back, happened to be approximately three blocks from where I was, and came to pick me up in the lobby. I told coworker he was my cousin, and away we went.

The night quickly made a complete turnaround. It was quiet and cozy. We had hot chocolate. I got a tour of his apartment, which I hadn't seen all of last time I was there. We talked about how I thought he was blowing me off and then he thought I was blowing him off, and that's apparently why we haven't reconnected (I'm still a little wary of the details here.. but I'm willing to let it slide for now). He let me crash my drunken self at his place. Church bells woke us up in the morning. He told me I have beautiful eyes, and he drove me back to my car.

I hope I hear from him again, but based on last time, I'm not getting my hopes too high. If nothing else, it was the perfect end to a strange evening.

(Mis)adventures indeed.

Beware the Ides of March.

After two months of not working, going back to work is kind of exhausting. It's been two weeks since I finished training and started actually working, and despite being hired at 25 hours, today was my first day off. (Ok, aside from Sundays, but I still have to get up Sunday mornings despite banks being closed.)

My mom has shingles. I have therefore been in charge of bell choir. I had my directorial debut in church this past Sunday, and I was in charge on Wednesday as well. I'm a pretty good director, if I do say so myself. In addition to directing on Sunday, I also played my three bells and one of mom's. Despite me being incredibly nervous, the song went well, and we got tons of compliments.

I'm doing pretty well at work, too. I'm still new, still learning the ways of things, still getting all the keys and information I need, but it's going well overall. I don't know why they keep having me close when I'm the newest teller, but I'm learning the process for that, too. I dread the day they start having me open in the mornings, though!

I tried to set a date with the charming ginger from the bar, but I have been unsuccessful so far. On the other hand, one of my new coworkers invited me out for drinks on Tuesday (with a couple of other coworkers), came to wings on Wednesday, has tried to hang out with me both nights since, and has been texting me all week. He's sweet, he's funny, he's trying his damnedest to make himself available to me, and yet... and yet I'd rather chase unsuccessfully after the tall ginger.

Realizing this led me to an epiphany of sorts: I'm fucked up.

Ok, I knew that already. Have been for a long time now, actually. But I dug deeper. Turns out, I follow patterns. I have, all my life, been attracted almost exclusively to unavailable men, emotionally or otherwise. The guys I liked in high school? Most of them are gay now. No joke, they are actually actively dating men. When a guy shows actual, potentially lasting interest in me, I balk. I find an excuse, even a valid reason why I shouldn't even give said guy a chance. I have gut feelings, and I follow them. But are these "gut feelings" just me being scared?

Instead, I opt to hunt down the unavailable ones, force them to fall for me, and then worsen my problems when it all just ends in heartbreak. Why do I do this? What does it all mean?

It's not as if I don't want to be in a successful relationship. I'm a huge sap in general, and I love being in love. So why can't I pick a guy who will talk to me openly, love and respect and trust me, send me a random text to let me know he's thinking of me? (This is not to say that I've always picked men who are terrible in every way, obviously; please don't think that's what I mean.)

I agreed to go to lunch with the coworker after work tomorrow; I have the urge to bail. I went home with the ginger from the bar, but I'm terrified at the thought that the coworker might try to, I don't know, hold my hand or something tomorrow. What is wrong with me?

I don't know. I don't have the answers, just the questions.

Some days.

Some days are just so. utterly. depressing.

I feel antsy. Like I don't want to be sitting at my grandma's house eating chicken, not because I don't love her, and not because I don't love chicken and mashed potatoes, but just because I can't bear it. I can't just sit there and eat chicken like everything is awesome. I'm antsy to leave, not because I have anything better or more pressing to do, but because I just can't keep sitting there.

I finished reading a depressing book, so to cheer myself up and shake myself out of the funk I'd read myself into, I turned to the internet. More specifically, to Mark Reads Harry Potter, which generally makes me laugh or at least smile. Except I'm currently to book five in his archives. Harry Potter and Everything Horrible and Angsty. So that's not helping, but I continue to read it.

I've come to realize that weekends are the hardest time. As a flight attendant, I had random days off. And maybe, on a Tuesday night, Eric would have other things going on, and it was a work night for him anyway, and so we wouldn't hang out, no big deal. But anytime I was lucky enough to have a Friday or Saturday off, there was no question about it: Eric and I would be together. Maybe we'd just get Wendy's and then watch a bad movie. Maybe we'd go bowling. Maybe we'd have friends in town. But no matter the plan or lack thereof, we'd be together.

Now I have every weekend off, and no guaranteed plans. No completely adorable boyfriend to brainstorm food options with. No slanty bed to spend the night cuddled up in. No sanctuary in which to escape my own house.

And it sucks. It just fucking sucks.

In general, I can handle being single. I can handle not having plans on a typical Friday night. But the fact that I had this amazing man, and he was torn away from me by a cruel, hidden depression... It's just not fair.

Also, as I came here to vent my uncontrollable angst this evening, I realized it is the sixth. It has been three months exactly. I'm sure I subconsciously realized that earlier, and it's probably the main contributing factor to my mood tonight. I wonder if it excuses the fact that I can't seem to stop eating today. Or the fact that I'm wearing my favorite dress shirt of his. It's so big on me, which is strange, because he was so skinny.


On a completely unrelated note, people google the weirdest things. And sometimes it leads them to my blog. They don't generally linger long, once they realize my ramblings have nothing to do with Joseph Gordon-Levitt's personal life. Ah, if only it did!

Dear friend

When I finish a book, I get what a high school friend of mine and I refer to as a "book high." It becomes my favorite book, and I want everyone I know to read it and share it and love it like I do.

I just finished re-reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky.

It's funny how much your place in the world can change a book. I loved it in college, and I loved it this week as I read it, but it was an entirely different book each time. I feel like it's a very quotable book, and I want to tweet/blog/whatever all sorts of bits from it, but then I'm afraid they'll be less perfect out of context. This one, though, I've always loved:

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.



I finally started to attempt to clean my room tonight, make it nice again, and in the process I discovered one of the reasons I've been putting it off: Eric is everywhere. Movie stubs, receipts from Beirut and The Source, a map to his brother's wedding with a handwritten note, my hastily-created anniversary card. And that's not even including the chair full of things I brought home from his apartment, the box of things so important I took them pretty much as soon as I could but now can't bear to look through.

Some days are great. Some days I just cry. Some days, like today, are mysterious combinations thereof.



Ha! You're going to think I'm lying, but as I was sitting here, looking at this post, wondering what last sentence I should throw in here, Ingrid Michaelson's Be OK came on mypod.

Thanks, universe.

Apples to Oranges

I've always preferred oranges to apples and apple juice to orange juice.

Unless, of course, there's vodka involved.

Songs and notes.

Sometimes I think my ipod mocks me. Sometimes it tries to console me. Sometimes it knows just which songs to play for me to sing along to, happy or sad.

I've begun to think of T Sweezy's song "Back to December" as being from Eric. I was out running errands one day, and every time I got into my car, this song was on. And mypod wasn't even involved! It makes me feel better to believe that he regrets it, that he'd go back to December and change his own mind, if he could.

Ingrid Michaelson's "Be OK" came on in my car one day. It's a song I got from Alex one day when I took many songs from his computer. I love Ingrid, but had never heard this song in particular before. It was so upbeat and happy, and I fell in love immediately. I put it on repeat for the rest of my drive home. It's become something of an anthem for me. I'd put some lyrics here, but it's just not the same without her and the music. So, here - go listen to this.

And here's the thing: I do know that I will be OK, no maybe about it.


Other noteworthy items:

- I begin training for my new job in the morning! I will be the best-dressed bank teller you ever did see. Have I mentioned how excited I am to never have to wear my FA uniform again? Or how equally excited I am for blouses and sweater vests and dress pants? VERY. EXCITED.

- We had a few days of spring, and the sun came out and melted our snow mountains, and now we're in the midst of a winter storm. Oh, February. Thanks for dumping snow everywhere just as I have to navigate my way to a new job downtown. Much appreciated.

- I went out with a big group on Friday to celebrate a good friend's birthday. We drank, we sang along loudly at the piano bar, we put her on stage, we drank more, and we danced up a storm at the 90s. I felt sexy and confident in my little black sheath dress. It was just what I needed. And then it got more interesting: I let a tall, charming ginger buy me a drink. Now I'm that girl, waiting for him to call.... Except, if I'm waiting too long, I have his number, too. And, guys? I think I might use it.


Life is weird, but it goes on.