• mallorean
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  • pledged"
  • Buffy"

Friday, June 29, 2007


The Proposal

Okay, okay... Things have been INSANE. 

So, Saturday, June 23, boyfriend had planned a nice day for us.  I didn't think anything of it because he's more or less on vacation right now until he starts his new job.  I thought we were just trying to do some of those things that we always SAY we're going to do and then never actually GET to do.

So we started off the day at the beautiful Tarara Winery.  It was a gorgeous day, and the temperature was unbelievably mild. Tarara was packed, but we finally made our way to the tasting area.  Next to us at the bar was an elderly man, although his vibrato made him seem much younger and full of life, with a Peruvian woman.  I asked boyfriend if he thought the man was a politician because he just had "that voice."  We all got to talking during the tasting, and we found out that he used to co-own a restaurant we used to frequent in Richmond.  The man was thrilled to learn about this connection, and he loved talking even more after that.  At the end of the tasting he said he was going to get a bottle of wine and that he wanted us to go sit with him and his.. umm.. mistress? and talk.  Boyfriend said we'd love to but that we didn't have enough time before our dinner reservation.  It was probably for the best, he was one of those people that just makes an awesome story and an uncomfortable encounter... maybe too much would have been too much

We left Tarara and continued over to Old Town Alexandria for our dinner reservations.  Old Town is just wonderful... small streets of lively restaurants and all kinds of neat little shops, lamp posts lit with actual fire instead of electricity, historical things, cute homes with lovely gardens, walking tours, and it's all on the water!  We showed up to dinner a little early, so we just walked the park area on the water for a little bit.

We saw a sign that said 'anal center' and we giggled and snorted and took pictures near it.  Then we realized it had said 'canal center,' but someone stole the 'c.'  Best vandalism ever.

Dinner was at a neat Italian restaurant.  The food was definitely great but maybe a bit much on my stomach.  After dinner we walked down some of the shop/restaurant streets and then back towards the water.  At the water, we sat down on a bench by a trail.  We sat there for a little while just not saying too much... enjoying the weather and each other. 

I was getting a little curious.  All day I felt like maybe he'd been walking on one side of me just a little too much, maybe when I moved to the other side he held my hand a little too stiffly, maybe when I wrapped my ringer around his belt loops or on his pocket's edge he got a little too squirrely, maybe he kept putting his hand into one pocket a little too frequently... was he guarding something?  Once when he got up at the dinner table to use the restroom I felt almost certain something was going on.  As soon as he'd gotten up he'd plunged his hand into that same pocket! I called a friend on my cell phone, eager to tell her that something was up with him.  But when I got her on the line I just felt silly.  Was this me overreacting?  Am I being crazy-ass girlfriend?  I'd better just chill.  So I didn't mention anything about it to her, I she was probably a little confused why I called at all.

After a little while on the bench, he suggested we go sit on a gazebo over the water.  Sure, no problem.  We sat there for another while as boyfriend kept looking over his shoulder and looking around.  It was all starting to feel so surreal.  I noticed something was bulging in his pocket.  Was this it??  Was he about to propose?  Is one of us just being totally bizarre?

He suggested we move back to the first bench.  My stomach was killing me at this point... I don't know if it was the heavy Italian food or all the uncertainty and anticipation that was mounting. 

He suggested we go over to a different gazebo. It was beginning to get a little more dark, the number of people walking around was lessening, but we did have a man standing not too far away who was trying to communicate with the ducks.  "wah wah wah wah wah wah," he called to ducks over and over again as boyfriend muttered, "it's time for this guy to go the f*ck away" under his breath.

Things seemed to settle.  Boyfriend fiddled with my fingers sweetly.  I told him it reminded me of the night of our first kiss.  Halloween... high school... on a nice bus heading back from a marching band competition.  Boyfriend and I had been flirting for weeks, and on this bus ride in the dark we made sure we sat next to one another.  I remember my head was on his shoulder and we were holding hands and playing with fingers.  Boyfriend (then, NOT boyfriend) sweetly kissed the top of my head.  Me, like a bull in a china closet, took this cue and lifted my head to kiss his mouth... but I think the gesture must have been lost in translation because our first 'kiss' landed quite a bit off. 

I guess that was a good intro, because then he began to tell me how he felt about me. 

He reached into that curious pocket to pull out a square box.  Inside the box was a gorgeous, old-fashioned silver ring box, and inside that was a spectacularly beautiful platinum banded ideal cut diamond. 

"Will you marry me?"

Crying, laughing, and a mess of human emotions followed.  I wish I could rewind and replay the day so that I wouldn't miss a second of it and so that I could always remember how he looked and the movements he made.  But I guess it's those awesome moments that go by so quickly!  It was all like a dream.  I could not believe it had actually happened. (Oh, and apparently all the changing of benches and gazebos was because he was afraid I'd drop the ring in the water!)

I don't know how we made it back to the apartment, but calling friends and relatives didn't stop for a while.  Lots of people didn't answer the phone (curses!), but we got through to most. 

So now we're engaged!  And if we want a summer 2008 wedding, unfortunately we have to get a move on!  Neither of us know what the hell we're doing, but it will fall into place I'm sure.  We put our names into the lottery drawing to be married at our Alma
Mater's chapel... the drawing is July 2, so wish us luck! 

This weekend we're getting on the road for DISNEY WORLD!  He fooled me... I figured if he was going to propose soon he'd probably do it while on vacation.  Now instead, we get to celebrate all week!  I'm basically so excited that I barely sleep or eat anymore, I just walk around quivering with glee. 

So, I'll be out next week... I doubt I'll have internet access.  But I wanted to make sure I got this story in before we left.  And when I get back, I'll try not to turn this blog into a wedding planning blog!  Happy weekend and happy week to all!

Monday, June 25, 2007



Thursday, June 21, 2007


F*ck You, I'm Eating!

A few nights ago I was studying for my PSYCH: Life Span Development course. In the textbook there was a set of photos all of the same man as a newborn, at age 6, at age 15, 19 and 38. I couldn't stop staring at this picture, and for some reason it made me very sad. The man had young, playful eyes that didn't change, but everything else did.

There's some kind of myth about aging, like if we could only appreciate and enjoy our youth and not take it for granted, then age would somehow be kinder to us. We would feel like an old man surrounded by grandkids or a young man who is full from too much turkey at Thanksgiving dinner.

Every speaker I attended in college very nearly pled with us to enjoy our youth and not take this time in our lives for granted. They spoke with urgency and longing. The friends you make here will follow you through your wedding days and after, the parties will live among your greatest memories, work hard and play hard, they urged.

I attended speakers in college, I worked hard for good grades, I spent long hours with my community service fraternity making friends and sweating over a building project, painting, landscaping, etc. I took time to “smell the roses,” I walked the college grounds at night, I looked up at the stars and questioned how small my life is but how much it means to me, I cried and I laughed. I think it’s safe to say that I never took my experience for granted and that I was always keenly aware of my luck at being in such a special place.

However, I want more turkey. Maybe I’m greedy, like the end of a roller coaster ride when the child hurls herself out of the ride and back into the line yelling, “again, again!” Who is really going to get off and say, “my, what an excellent ride that was, I’m thankful for having the opportunity to ride it,” and then go about their business? Not likely, unless you’re a zen master… but then this particular entry never really pertained to or interested you.

We’re basically born with the knowledge that we’re going to die, or we learn it quickly. Yet somewhere between dating, tv shows and playing the xbox we can forget that this unfathomable concept is a reality. Every time I think about old age and death, the thought smashes into the back of my head like an iron frying pan.

I’m enjoying being young, every day. I enjoy and am thankful for boyfriend, every day. This contentment and feeling that I’m living fully brings me no zen wisdom, though. I’m not full from Thanksgiving. I’d like the time back, I’d like more, I’d like to jump from one fiction to another like the people I read about in books, like the movies I love. Does anyone really get to the end of the best meal they’ve ever had, the most compelling novel, the great American movie, or the loved one’s embrace and say, “thanks, I’m satisfied”?

Wednesday, June 20, 2007


Sewing Machine?

Does anyone know of a website that gives good instructions on using a sewing machine?  I bought one at a yardsale last summer, and I still haven't been able to use it because I just don't know how.  It didn't come with an instruction book (although it's in great condition).  I searched online to see if the manufacturer had instructions online but I didn't find anything.

It's a 'Brother' and it looks fairly basic... no extra bells or whistles. 

Last summer I visited a friend in Philadelphia whose mother had made her a quilt of her old favorite t-shirts.  I thought that was awesome!  I certainly have some t-shirts I could/should part with, but they have good memories!  Any suggestions are welcomed!

Don't Stop Believin'

Today we enter into Day 3 of Dog Wars. Maggie 10, Parents 0.

Yesterday my mom came into contact with Maggie three or four times. As she finally left the park at 8:45pm, Maggie was lying near the park entrance. I can't imagine how infuriating it must be to see her, be that close to her, call to her, and have her BOLT. No wonder my mom takes it personally, maybe it IS personal.

They've tried coaxing with Milkbones and Snausages. Other people in the park have tried to get her, too. She's just not interested in people. How long will this go on?

In other news, I'd pay you $100 for me not to have to go to work today! I was in a meeting for 5 hours yesterday. Sorry, I did have a one hour break after the first hour of the meeting, but it was still 5 freaking hours!

I remember when I worked one summer at a non-profit in a rural county near Richmond. It was either every Friday or every Monday that we had a staff meeting. They never lasted more than one hour and there was usually food involved. I actually enjoyed these meetings. I was young and stupid!

That place was pretty great, actually. We worked out of an old house. Just being in a house rather than an office seems to make the day a little better. I know some people that worked there didn't have such a good experience because the boss was very hard on them. It was odd because she was very sweet to me. I looked at the website recently and noticed she's not there anymore.

Boyfriend is making fajitas for dinner, so there's a plus side, right? Our apartment had a meet and greet game and pool party this past Saturday afternoon. There was a trivia game, and of course he couldn't pass that up. He won us a margarita set - four margarita glasses, four shot glasses, a pitcher and a little salt/lime plate. When I came home from work yesterday there was a giant bottle of margarita mix sitting on the kitchen counter... I think he's trying to tell me something.

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Tuesday, June 19, 2007


Still No Dog

I just finished making a LOST poster for my parents with Maggie's picture. You see those posters around all the time, but for some reason I never thought about those animals were lost.

My brother had been calling me like crazy since Sunday, but I was avoiding his call like the plague. The last thing I wanted to hear was his take on the whole situation! Finally last night on my way back from my Anatomy & Physiology quiz I gave in. He said,

"You're not being a dumbass and busting mom's chops about this mutt problem are you?"

I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. Was he thinking I was pressing her to take off work and find the dog? That I would make her feel bad for being so upset? That I would tell her it's her fault the dog slipped out of her collar and ran off?

Apparently it was the latter. Why would I ever say that to her? That's the kind of thing he would say, perhaps. Something must have pissed him off because he tried several different ways to bait me into an argument. Lucky for him I was in a very good mood at the time (I got an 85 on my quiz and the class average was a 69!).

He also wanted to debate about how I was "an emotional child," my marital status, and the last episode of The Sopranos. That about covers it all, right?

I don't think I linked to this article yet, but if you were at all into The Sopranos then you should definitely read it. It makes some amazing points about the last episode, and now I really enjoy the way it ended. I love finding a good article.

Off to another day of sitting in meetings and having no time to finish any of the "top priorities" on my desk! Hoorah!

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Monday, June 18, 2007


Once upon a time, we had a dog...

That's right, yesterday Maggie (like so many before her) decided she'd had enough of living with my parents.

My brother came home Saturday evening, I guess for father's day. Yesterday morning they all went for a family walk in the park with Maggie; it was only the third week we've had her.

One minute she's walking on the leash, the next minute she's slipped out of her collar and she's leash-free. I wasn't there (thank God... it was horrible pandemonium), but from what I understand it happened incredibly fast. Maggie charged off into the woods.

They all looked for her, and they had a few sightings. They couldn't get her to come to them. They looked, in shifts, until 9pm at night. Her last sighting was around 2pm, and then she was gone.

I have to make light because it's just so awful. The whole thing has been awful since we got her. Maggie was not adjusting so well at the house. I don't think it's unreasonable for someone to want a dog that greets you with a wagging tail when you come home after work, that looks forward to seeing you.. man's best friend? Maggie seems to have gotten worse once she moved in instead of getting better.

She's incredibly shy and anxious. She's one year old, and she spent her whole existence living outdoors. She loves the outdoors and fears houses. She also fears most people. To my dad, my brother, one of my dad's friends at work, and boyfriend and myself the last time we were home... she just shakes and shakes like one of us is going to kill her. She backs away and hides in a corner. But the day we got her she was friendly as could be.. she didn't start the shaking until a week after we'd had her. I just don't understand.

Everyone has advice about how to deal with a shy dog, but really nothing had worked so far. Plus, it's probably just too great a task for first time dog owners who both work 10 hours a day. They need something with more loyalty than intelligence that easily accepts and loves the role of family dog.

So, my brother and father probably didn't like her too much. They don't have a lot of patience, and seeing the dog shake and back away every time they go by, when all they've done is be nothing but nice to her, is disheartening.

My mom sees it as a personal attack. She gave the dog a warm home, toys, food, and love and yet the dog would rather run away and go live in the woods. She's a complete mess.

I hadn't gotten to know Maggie that well yet. Of course, I hated how afraid and shy she was too. I wanted to play with her and enjoy her company. It's not her fault, of course. Who knows what kind of life she had. But the thought of all the time and energy we put into this and all the high hopes we had makes it incredibly disappointing... plus terrifying... what's going to happen to her?

They're going to keep trying to find her, but what happens even if they do? She'll probably just run away again. She doesn't really get the concept of her name or coming when it's called. She certainly doesn't enjoy the company of really anyone in the house except my mom. She doesn't really understand how to be a pet.

I feel like we've all failed. I have no idea what's going to happen. Will they find her today, 6 months from now, or never? Will there be another dog? Is this it forever? Should I not worry yet because maybe they'll still find her? That park is huge and densely wooded.

What the hell happened? Why can't we just have something nice like normal people!

Sometimes, I swear... it's like there's a black cloud above my parents house where everything turns to shit!


Friday, June 15, 2007


Ain't Sayin' She's a Gold Digger

Because boyfriend is done, he's embarking on a party extravaganza.  Last night we went out for dinner and drinks with four of first year college roommates, two of which he hasn't seen since graduation. 

One is an immensely successful business executive, one just finished his second year of Harvard Law and is also in his second year of marriage, one just finished his second year of Columbia Law, one does something with Homeland Security, and then there's me and boyfriend.

Oh, life, you have such a sick sense of humor!  Why did I have to love writing, reading and art instead of accounting or fuel cells?  Some people freakin' love talking about fuel cells!  Even boyfriend, an English and American Studies double major, is a fake!  I was studying my Anatomy and Physiology earlier in the week, throwing out some questions to him about electrons, atomic weight, noble gases, ionic bonds, etc. because he loves being quizzed, and damn if he didn't know every single answer!   You know the last time he took a biology course?  HIGH SCHOOL!

Whoops!  Was I supposed to remember things I learned in high school?  Yeah...

Tonight is boyfriend's official program graduation ceremony.  They'll have some hors d'oeuvres, a speaker or two, and show slides from the year.  Afterwards there will be a party at someone's house.  The people in this program are smart, so I'm sure it will be more stories of law school, six digit salaries, and caviar.  Okay, maybe not the caviar.  I go too far!

Here's how it will go down:

"Hey, Seredne, so what are you doing these days?"
"Oh, ya know, just workin'."
"What do you do?"
"I'm in consulting... I'm also a certified drug test collector!"
"Wow.. that's great! 
"Yeah, it pays the bills.  What are you going to do now?"
"Well, my father, William J. Moneybanks, IV, owns all these oils companies and he offered me a job there as junior CEO, but I think I'm going to go to law school, then med school, then probably get my PhD in biochemistry and cure cancer.  I like politics a lot... so maybe I'll run for president in about 15 years and end poverty and close the achievement gap... maybe a little animal rights and world peace.  After that I can always train to become an astronaut where I can bring politics to space and colonize a democratic Europa."

This is the part where I barf all over myself and run out of the room.  I'll be like the scary little boy in The Sixth Sense, "I see [successful] people!!"

I'm not intimidated, really.  It's actually rather funny listening to people.  Instead of flaunting their success they try to denigrate their achievements.  They'll say it's just luck, or that they have no idea how they got where they are, or that it's all just a stupid thing anyway.  I hope that's not what they really think, because it is awesome that they're so smart and driven.  I really don't think I'm a leper of society for leaving law school, and hopefully in time they'll stop feeling like they have to hate on the field when I'm around.  I'm past that foaming at the mouth, crazy lunatic ex-law student stage.  Hopefully, too, people will stop asking me for advice or comments about law school before they enter, as if in finding out my reasons for leaving they'll be able to mull it over in their own mind and think "well, I'm not like that" or "that statement doesn't apply to me."  Been there, done that. 

They'll just have to find out for themselves; I'll be busy making other plans [insert coy smiley face].

Thursday, June 14, 2007


The Gift

Congratulations to boyfriend - today is the last day of his job.  For the last two years he's being giving blood, sweat and tears to a program that places intelligent and hardworking recent college grads into urban or rural failing schools.  It's hard to believe his two years is actually up.

I feel a little bit sad by it.  No, I certainly wasn't the one in there every day doing the work, but I was standing by and supporting.  I remember as college was ending we were hoping and praying that he would get a placement in the same city (or at least state) where I got into law school.  It was a rough year of waiting, gambling and a decent amount of crossing fingers.  It turned out the best we could do was four hours away from one another.  Four hours apart while I struggled with school and self during law school... four hours apart while he tried to create change in a community that had everything working against it. 

I remember driving him to the airport with his parents that summer as we put him on a plane to California for his one month crash course training session.  He was so excited and nervous, and he sure as hell had no idea what was in store for him. 

I remember driving to Pittsburgh with my parents while he was still in California, trying to find an apartment where (at the time I thought) I'd be spending the next three years of my life.  After an extremely stressful day in the heat, having no idea what we were doing, and seeing some apartments that we growing black mold in the sink, I freaked out back at our hotel.  I was crying, shaking uncontrollably, and all I knew was that there was no way in hell I could do this.  I didn't want to do this.  So far away from family, from friends (who are family), from boyfriend (who is everything ).  My dad approached me with the hard line, "You can't quit now.. you've got to be a trooper."  My mom played the softy, "You can always come back if it doesn't work out."  I took to crying in the stairwell and calling boyfriend. 

That night while I was sleeping and sniveling in the hotel bed, he was writing me an email from across the country.  He should have been sleeping... the training session really only allotted for a few hours each night.  Sometimes I look at that e-mail and try to recall that period in our lives.  He tried to show me that I didn't have to do anything; I had many other options.  It sounds like a basic concept, but truly, I never believed I had any other option than to go.  His e-mail was so full of love and hope and gentleness.  It reminded me of laughing and passing notes with him in high school and seeing an amazing world in his eyes that seemed so totally possible when he's near.

He works so hard to be better at whatever he's doing, and this year he can actually see in much raised test scores that his work in this program paid off.  He'll miss the kids he worked with.  I know he worries about not being able to keep in touch with them.  Maybe, and most likely, he can't follow them throughout their lives, but surely they'll take parts of him with them. 

Because if they looked they would see the same thing I saw in high school, in college, in that e-mail he wrote from California to Pittsburgh, and in the smile he greets me with every morning.  They would see their potential in his eyes, they'd see the world as a place that's trying it's best, and they'd see that if they reach for it then there is opportunity... then what seems impossible becomes possible. 

Wednesday, June 13, 2007


Where Does It Get You, Anyway?

I saw a quote on someone's Facebook profile yesterday that said,

"every day of your life is a test.  are you passing?"

Usually I would pass this type of quote off as annoying, or as some type of religious "God is watching you" propaganda.  Maybe I should blame it on the mood I've been in lately, but I stopped to think about it.

When I look back on where I've been I feel astonished by how far I've come.  But if I look at where I want to be I'm not sure I know how to get there.  I wonder if I can get there. 

Yesterday I asked boyfriend if our apartment, our building, our city felt like home.  He said, "more or less."  I hate that everyone moves away after graduation and scatters across the country.  I hate that there's almost this compulsion put on young people to go out in the world, find yourself, and make your mark.  Do you need to go to Ouagadougou to do it?  Why does being independent unequivocally equal good?

I've always liked the phrase that it takes a village to raise a child.  Boyfriend grew up in a family where friends are like family and their circle of friends always took a yearly mountain trip while he was growing up.  He was surrounded by love.  I've always enjoyed going to gatherings at his house because it's so much about having a great time with people instead of showing off the latest piece of furniture or just going through some stiff, formal motions.  One of the worst parts of law school was being stuck out in Pittsburgh, four hours away from the nearest friend. 

I can't control other people (obviously).  But when I think about my life being a test and what I want the answers to be, I want it to be about love and compassion.  I wish I didn't have to drive to other cities to visit friends.  Home, to me, is where my friends are... where my community is... where I can plant roots, get involved, and what it all grow.  I'm not the independent, cut ties and go forth mid-20-something woman I'm supposed to be (rather, that this culture leads us to believe we should be). 

Boyfriend showed me this article in his Economist about ' Beware the Bridezilla.'  Some woman wrote a book on the bridal industry craze and how to help women avoid the traps.  It must be the month to write about weddings, Slate also just did a series of wedding/bridezilla articles.  I liked in a Slate article how one journalist wrote:

'Abused bridesmaids, perplexed grooms, and appalled parents complain endlessly about the personality changes that otherwise lovely young women undergo when they start arranging "my day."

Is there anything more revealing than the phrase—uttered with a stamping of the foot and a rising of the voice—"my day"? Of course it's not "our day," because the groom is merely an accessory, like a cake topper. The first time a bride-to-be utters the words "my day," I recommend potential bridesmaids and grooms respond, "Mayday."'

So true.  It is madness.  Women seem to think all the hoopla is what they're supposed to do, and the bridal industry certainly has no qualms about feeding that lie.  Maybe a woman thinks she can endure a marriage where she's the sole person to cook, clean, and take care of the kids if she can just have this one day to do whatever she wants.  It's like a payoff.  I'm marrying you, I'll do your bidding, but don't get on MY TURF.  I agree with the Slate journalist that it should send out a "may day."  We're so consumed with everything but what's important. 

I also agree with a reviewer on the One Perfect Day book, it falls back to the ideas in an earlier book called Bowling Alone .  Bowling Alone talks about the break down of families, communities, etc.  I'm not sure why we're running away from eachother, but I blame the wedding business, the moving away after graduation stuff less on some industry and more on some idea we all have of what's "right."  I don't know where we get it, but too many people I know seem to have it.

Community involvement is so important to me; my friends are so important to me.  I don't know if I'm passing the "life test" yet, but I hope to.  I hope I can own a house, look out the window and know my neighbors.  I'd like to have a weekly dinner with friends and talk about our dogs.  I don't think these values are silly or uncultured or that I should be ashamed for thinking it's alright to want to live in a suburb.  Here in DC, I've been told I have an unsophisticated palate because I'm not interested in eating sushi. 

What is this place!?  How can we be happy unless we shrug off the "I should do this" or "I must do/like this."  Who made these rules?

Tuesday, June 12, 2007


Is it bad that I'm tempted to make every title some kind of groan or 'case of the Mondays' type phrase?

I couldn't write or read anything yesterday for fear that someone would reveal the ending of The Sopranos series finale before I had a chance to watch it.  When I did watch it last night, maybe I wish that someone had ruined it for me.  It was disappointing, but not too disappointing... I think I'd already accepted that that show never gives you exactly what you want. 

My weekend went pretty well.  My mom freaked out, of course, because I had asked four people to come over to the house.  Now that I look back on it, I don't know what I was thinking.  I should have known better than to have people over.  The cookout food was delicious, Knocked Up was hilarious (I'm doing really well with movie luck lately between Waitress and Knocked Up ), and I got some great birthday gifts (including a nifty green Ipod Nano).  Yesterday on the walk to work it was fun to watch people march to the song coming from my Ipod.  It put me in my own little world... I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Maggie is getting mixed reviews.  Saturday she was really strange.  She kept shaking if I talked to her, hiding, and generally looking terrified.  She wouldn't get up to even eat and she wasn't interested in treats.  She seems especially terrified of my dad.  Sunday my dad went fishing (who knows if that has anything to do with it) and she was much, much better.  She didn't shake, she came to me once when I called her, she took treats, and she even licked my face.  She didn't seem this terrified the first week my parents had her.  I can't explain what the problem is.  Clearly it's going to take her a while before she gets comfortable, and I hope my parents have the patience not to give up too soon.

I've been feeling REALLY down on my job lately.  I'm the only female here until 40, which wouldn't be a problem except that everyone else is a young guy fresh out of the frat house.  This is their first job.  They don't know how to talk to people in a business setting.  Sometimes I wonder how this company even runs.  I can't go into detail about them or my boss, of course, but I don't think it's an optimal setting for me.  Unfortunately though if I tried to find another job I would probably only be there for less than a year before I left for grad school.  It probably doesn't look good on my resume to be at a job for that short a period of time (especially after having left law school), plus I would probably cost that company money with all the training a new person requires.  Boyfriend says that's still not a good reason for me to stay at my current job... but I'm not so sure. 

Friday, June 08, 2007


Beach, Bar Fights and Birthdays

Okay, okay I'm back! It's hard getting caught up and on your feet after being on vacation, and I really need to spend more time chugging along in my distance learning courses (I don't want this to turn into another scene from Statistics).

First off, I apologize for my whine festival earlier. I just got frustrated with trying to plan a get together. I'm sure that my friends are doing the best they can, and I shouldn't judge. I just had to let off some steam.

So for three days I went to a training seminar for work. I had a pretty good time and I passed the certification test that they gave us at the end with flying colors. Hooray, hooray.

That night myself, boyfriend, and our friend from college who recently returned from 2 years in Senegal with the Peace Corps set out for the beach to meet up with the others. It was so wonderful to see this friend again! Really, it was like no time had passed.

I don't have too much news from the beach. It rained and was cloudy much of the time we were there. We did a lot of eating in little restaurants and diners, playing board games, and sipping cheap beers.

The first night we were there (keep in mind we had to be cagey because we were cramming 5 people into one room) our neighbors got a little rowdy. A group of people stood right outside our door playing the guitar and singing to popular early 90's songs. We were pissed for a while, but we relented and just listened and made fun of them. Around 4am the police came along with the property manager. They tried to kick the group out, but somehow they talked their way out of it.

Also while there I bought a giant $10 piece of cake. It was damned good, and it was getting closer to my birthday... I couldn't resist!

The first full day that we were there when it rained, we went to the movies. Everyone wanted to see
"Knocked Up," but I've had plans with some high school friends for a while to go see that. Instead we saw "Waitress." I have to admit, I loved it. There were a few parts that were just a little too corny and I had to snicker in the theater, but overall I really really liked it. And I left the theater with an overwhelming desire to bake and eat PIES. I'd really recommend this movie to anyone looking for something fun but smart, the way a real 'romantic comedy' should be.

The day we left was nice outside (of course). We were able to sit on the beach for a little while, then we checked out of the hotel and headed to where one person's parents live (she's from the beach). We had brunch at a diner near here house; it was adorable, everyone knew everyone. When we finally got to her house it was awesome to be able to see where she grew up. She was mostly moved out of her bedroom, but there were some things that reminded me so much of my own room. Teen angst song lyrics written along the wall, certain pictures and quotes tacked up on the wall, empty boxes of animal crackers lining the door frame and a few relics from high school boyfriends... she and I could have been great friends growing up. Our rooms said a lot about how we much we wanted someone to notice that we were 'different.'

Boyfriend drove on dropping different people off as we passed their city. Our friend from Peace Corps had the farthest to go, she was going to visit our old college town for a week and catch up with people there. Somehow she convinced us to stay the night there as well and leave in the morning.

I saw my first bar fight. It was between two guys from the Rutgers baseball team that was in town for a tournament. One guy broke a bottle and then held the glass shard up to another guy's neck. The one who was threatened went nuts, screaming and yelling all sorts of things: "I had your back for three years, and this is what you do? I'm out of my f*cking mind!" This went on and off for hours, after what seemed like forever the one guy got kicked out of the bar but it raged on in the street. I guess I remember why I don't like bars.

The bar fight aside, I love the town my alma mater is in. I'd gladly go back there, buy a little house, get a dog, go to lectures on weeknights and just generally enjoy life.

Wednesday was my birthday. I love and adore birthdays. I am finally starting to realize that I'm not getting any younger, though! One of the things boyfriend gave me is my choice of a cooking class at Sur La Table. I think I'll take the fondant course; maybe it's not the most utilitarian choice, but I think it will be fun! I'm headed back to my parents' house tonight for a little birthday grilling and then going to see "Knocked Up" with some friends. And, of course, I'd like to see Maggie again.

Perhaps the best birthday present I got, though, was last night. My brother has started this new thing where he loves calling after I'm asleep. It's irritating as hell to be woken up, but it also sucks for boyfriend. He gets really startled when all of a sudden my phone starts vibrating and going nuts. My brother told me last night that the military board met on his case yesterday, and he is not being deployed to Iraq. Not being deployed! NOT NOT NOT. Thanks freakin' GOD!

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