Monthly Archives: December 2012

2012

I don’t really believe in making New Years resolutions.  Mostly because I don’t like setting myself up to fail.  And I also try to be really nice to myself.  Instead, I try to make some overarching goals that I contemplate sometime near the end of the year while eating a bread stick, drinking a cocktail and smoking a cigarette.  Oh and setting $70 on fire because I have been to the gym exactly twice during the month of December.

So in 2013, I’d like to exercise more and eat less bread sticks and obviously quit smoking because I’m not a total idiot (just a partial once since I started smoking again in the first place).  But I think about 80% of humans have similar goals to be more healthy and less fat in the New Year.  Which is why my gym is a terrible place the entire month of January (We get it!  You are crabby because you haven’t eaten carbs in 35.7 hours, but please be less of a dick to the people around you).

2012 kind of sucked, mostly because being an adult sucks.  Contributing to your 401K sucks (but so responsible!).  Break ups suck.  Job hunting sucks.  Because as I’ve said this 100 times– job hunting is a strict exercise in rejection.  I went on a shit ton of interviews this year and sent out about 10 million resumes.  And was anxious as fuck about it all the time and unhappy and bored at my old job.

But you know what?  I got a new job!  A new job that even when is stressful as all hell, I really enjoy.  That was my huge goal for 2012.  And I accomplished it.  And that feels awesome.  I’m getting a new boss in 2013, so my work-related goal for 2013 is politely inform her that I am her new protégée.  And that she needs to mold me into the best damn communications manager this city has ever seen.  Mold me!

In 2013, I’d also like to have a pretty awesome adventure.  You know, once I get some vacation days.  I had to go to Minnesota at shit ton in 2012 (for pretty great reasons), which took up a lot of time.  And as I was job hunting,  I was really hesitant to plan a big vacation with plane tickets and hotel reservations because knowing my luck, the second I committed to a non-refundable 10 days in Aruba, I’d receive a job offer that wanted me to start the day before I was set to depart.  Because that’s how awesome my luck is.  So I stayed home a lot, with a glass of wine and a book and my fingers crossed.

So 2013– I’d like to (literally) dust off my snowboard in the corner of my bedroom, finally visit Annapolis (which I think has been my goal every year since I moved to DC) and travel someplace awesome.  And come home with a thrilling story that hopefully doesn’t involve me crashing on my bicycle on a dirt road.

I would also like to read more books, write more stories, be kinder, cook more meatloaf, take up a hobby or extra-curricular activity (any ideas?), be great at my job, sleep soundly at night, dance my butt off, laugh until I feel like I’m going to throw up and continue to surround myself with human beings that make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Happy New Year, everyone.  Hope this next year is better than the last.

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Home again, home again

We coordinated my last supper in Minneapolis perfectly.  The restaurant opened at 4:30, we were there are 4:31, we were 10 minutes from the airport, with a scheduled departure of 7:25.

My brothers, mother and I filled our bellies with red wine and pasta and bread before I was to be whisked off to the airport by 6PM with just enough time to make it through security and onto my flight.

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And then we were delayed an hour and 5 minutes.  And then the flight attendants were missing in action.  And then we were boarding a full hour and a half after our departure time and scheduled to land in DC after midnight.  Which was infuriating.

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Many people have skills– the ability to do algebra and follow recipes and not want to throw up in hot yoga.  I cannot do any of those things.  What I can do is fall asleep on any moving vehicle in a matter of seconds.

As a result, I haven’t been awake for takeoff in years.  And also why if you stick me on a metro train home from Rockville after dark, I’ll most likely wake up at Largo Town Center.

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There were at least TWO HUNDRED people waiting for a cab last night at DCA.  Bless Uber or else I never would have made it home.  I crawled into bed around 2AM and, of course, wired from standing in the cold among the stressed Christmas travelers.  I tossed and turned for an hour but was delighted to be in my own bed.

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I firmly believe that the powers that be made leggings and an oversize sweater trendy because it is the closest you can be to wearing pajamas in public (or in the office).

It’s good to be home.  Although I certainly wish I wasn’t at work.

 

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A Merry Christmas to all

14- The number of breadsticks I’ve eaten in the last 24 hours.  I’m not exaggerating in the least.  My aunt makes them every year for Christmas Eve– the store bought kind breadsticks that come rolled up in a can, baked on corn meal and then practically dip in melted butter and garlic salt.  They are amazing.  And going right to my thighs.

3- The age of my baby cousin that looked at my gravely last night before dinner, full of concern and toddler affection and said, “you have a boo boo!” while stabbing the pimple on my forehead.  Thank you, dear girl, for pointing that out.

65- The number of adults and children that descended upon my grandfather’s house last night for dinner, promptly at 5:30PM.  There were cheesy potatoes and singing and 220 breadsticks and babies that ran in circles around the house.

96- The age of my grandfather, the man responsible for the all chaos.

2- The number of breadsticks I’ve eaten while writing this.

1- The temperature when I left the house this morning.  There was ice on the windshield and my hands were numb in my gloves.  I’d still take this sunny winter day over 104 degrees in the DC swamp any day.  I know that makes me crazy.

I hope you and your family had a wonderful holiday.

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10 on Thursday

1.  I took a break from perfecting my early 2000s hip hop Pandora station to listen to some Top 40s this morning.  I accidentally listened to 45 whole seconds of a Justin Bieber song and now I’m ashamed of myself.  Back to T.I.

2.  My mother is town this weekend, which is delightful.  I’m going to eat delicious food and drink delicious wine and make her tell me repeatedly that I’m the best daughter a woman could ask for. This is the second mother visiting the frat house in the last month, as Roommate B’s momma came to nurse him after he got his tonsils out the week of Thanksgiving.

Update on that: He thinks shit sucks, but is finally able to almost eat solid food. We considered feeding him baby bird style, but then realized that was extra gross and gave him more pudding.  Kidding, we never considered doing that.

3.  A funny story about my mother–

I made some pesto pasta for dinner a while back.  After I finished my bowl of pasta, I looked into the pesto jar and realized it was full of mold.  Easy mistake to make.  Pesto is green.  Mold is green.  I called my mother panicked and asked if I was going to die.

“No, honey,” she said, “I fed you lots of mold as a child.  You’ll be fine.”  Good lookin’ out, ma.

4.  We got a new roommate, which has brought my home back to it’s full South Carolina glory.  Roommate F has conveniently forgotten he’s from Illinois and as dedicated Gamecock, embraced South Carolina as his mother land.  So much so that after many many beers and a Nats game two years ago, he thought it wise to get the South Carolina flag tattooed on his back at an establishment on Pennsylvania called Off Da Hook Tattoo.

5.  I was delighted to have Roommate F move in, mostly for one reason and one reason alone (besides him being a very nice person)– a monthly cleaning service.  I saw my opportunity to negotiate and conquered.  My house smelled so amazingly like industry strength cleaning products when I got home from work Tuesday, I was tempted to eat off our counter tops.  And then thought better of it, being that they’re the mice super highway and all.

6.  I’ve lived by myself before, which is mostly great– except for the only person to blame for all the dishes in the sink is yourself and you have no one to turn to when you’re totally freaked out after a Law and Order: SVU marathon and you never arrive home on Sunday afternoons to find impromptu football parties.

There is nothing like walking into a house full of friends, beer, chili on the stove and most importantly of all, cheese dip.  And of course a nice young man willing to make you more cheese dip because it was almost gone.

7.  A follow-up on my pasta date:  I did shovel pasta into my mouth and it was surprisingly delicious.  I had my doubts about Vapiano mostly because I was so confused about how to get my food, but for “fast casual” or whatever it’s called, I enjoyed my noodles and sauce.  Especially since they didn’t even attempt to put peas in my carbonara.  Everyone knows peas are gross.

8.  I texted my date on my train ride home the following:  There is a woman on the train with a chain connection her nose ring to her earring with a giant ass cross hanging from the chain against her cheek.  Super important question– would you go out with my if I attempted such style?

He responded, “No, don’t do that.”  I can’t imagine why he’d feel that way, I think I’d make that style look good.

9.  I laughed about this New Yorker post for mostly 5 minutes.

10.  Song of the week.  This is why the 2000s hip hop Pandora station is bringing it all day long.

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Update: You Don’t Suck

Goods news: According to this year’s performance review, my personality is no longer “too strong.” I’ve either gotten soft or my new manager is constructive.

Last year at this time, I had the distinct pleasure of reporting to a man that hated my guts.  Like for real hated me.  Three months into my promotion, his only managerial way of checking in had been when he was standing in my office waiting for me to count out his requested petty cash and asking casually “how’s it going?” and then walking out before I answered.

My old CEO, as I’ve described him before, was kind of like trying to catch a greased pig.  He was almost always on the road, wasn’t the best communicator and often expected to me to read his mind.  I was working hard at doing a good job and still a year later still firmly believe that I did do a very good job.

But as I walked into my review last year– with a supervisor that hadn’t given me more than 2.4 seconds of advice or feedback or assistance ever, he ripped me apart.  Told me I was a “work in progress” and thought my “personality was too strong to deal with Hill schedulers,” with the caveat that he was just trying to be honest.  I was destroyed.  And also furious.

Let me tell you something, those of you who manage people– no one wants to work hard for you when you’re a dick.  And there was something about that conversation that literally depleted me.  All of my dedication to sticking out my promised time in that position, and dedication to our CEO and the company literally vanished.  All I could think about was fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.  I promised myself in five years I could call him up and tell him I thought he was a horrible person and started applying for new jobs.

Yesterday, I had my first performance review at my new company.  I had some sort of strange PTSD before I walked into my VP’s office and shut the door.  I left 45 minutes later without the tiniest urge to cry and positive marks on my review.  It was constructive, it was positive, the feedback was useful.  Not once was my personalty insulted.  It was everything a performance review should be.

I guess the funny thing is– I may have never fully recovered from that terrible performance review last year without my strong personality, so take that former supervisor.  And as a result of that terrible review, I got my supervisor switched to someone who was nice to me and that started the chain of events that landed me at my current job.  How’s that for silver lining?

And by the way, have you met my mother and her 9 sisters?  They’ll tear you apart, pick you back up, give you a hug, clean your house and then make you enchiladas for dinner.  I give them full credit for my “strong personalty.”  Thank you.

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True colors?

A text conversation arranging a Tuesday night movie date– I’m so good at flirting and impressing people. 

Boy:  How would you feel about Vapiano [Italian food] before the movie?

Me:  I can shovel some pasta into my mouth for sure.

Boy:  The thing I like most about you is your soft feminine touch.

 

 

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