Calm

I’ve just returned from a whirlwind vacation. For some reason, I seem to be doing days worth of traveling in 2010, most of which is work-related. But I didn’t travel much at all in 2009, so who knows if or when it will continue.

One thing I have learned from all my travel is that on Southwest, the front row seats are rarely taken right away. So if you are in Group A or even the beginning of Group B, it’s possible to get the front row (and with it, a ton of extra legroom). Just a tip. But you don’t have a seat in front of you for storing things, so you have to only have one bag. (Southwest has free luggage checking, too, so it is possible.) The front row is also fun because if you sit on the right side of the plane you can see the flight attendant seat and listen to them gossip about their coworkers and possibly also your fellow passengers. (Plus I always take my cues about being scared from them—if they are calm, so am I.)

Anyway, my car is being weird. A check engine light came on yesterday, went off today, and then oil light popped on for a few seconds this morning. Bizarro. That prompted me to think about how calm I am about stupid stuff like this now. Back in college, car things always seemed like SUCH A HASSLE (and they kind of were, because college was in the middle of nowhere), but now. Meh. I’ll cope. There are options. I guess this is one of the small joys of getting older. It’s easier to cope with little hassles without getting all crazy about it. Oh, and flying? Yeah, doesn’t bug me anymore. I used to be freaked out by planes. Now, not so much. Maybe I’ll die, but probably not.

Summing

Blogging.

I like HAVING a blog. I really like being able to look back at said blog and remember what I was doing at a particular time. There have been several times lately when Mike and I have been discussing WHEN exactly something happened, and I can go back and check in my blog. Date, and everything. I watched The Wire for the first time 2 years ago, almost exactly, and I know that thanks to this blog.

But, WRITING in the blog seems to take more energy than I have for this sort of thing. I like reflecting. I like thinking about my life. But I don't always have any kind of motivation to write something coherent about it.

So quick 2010 so-far summary: New Year's Eve with Mike and Sara early, then hanging out with Tim, Allison and new baby Sean to ring in 2010. Trip to Indiana at the end of the month (still in Ind.). College friend gathering this coming weekend, which is very exciting, since we haven't had a big reunion, really, since Jan. 2005. Work: Good. Life: Good.

That is all.

I wore an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time

My sister-in-law’s Youtube video went (sort of) viral thanks to a tweet from Demi Moore. I was telling this story at lunch to a bunch of teenagers and they wanted to know who Demi was. We racked our brains trying to remember exactly WHY she is famous. Ghost, I suppose. But her other movies weren’t exactly huge hits. She did pose pregnant and naked on a magazine cover, and she was married to Bruce Willis, so I guess there’s that. (And then they wanted to know why Ashton Kutcher would marry her if she’s so old. They definitely knew who HE was.)

Anyway, it was weird to have to answer the question. Kids today know nothing.

Speaking of kids today, the Facebook groups they create are kind of hilarious. You can become a fan of “Everyone’s house has a smell, but I can’t smell mine” and “Sending an important text, then being scared to open the reply you get back.” I remember when that was called “email” but the same idea applies. I really hate that feeling. I try not to send important texts or emails if I can help it. Oh, and this one: “You won't talk to me, I won't talk to you, so why am I happy you're online?” which is also funny ‘cause it’s true.

So 2009 is almost over. All in all, definitely a better year that 2008. The “aughts” as a whole are almost over, too. I don’t know what this decade will be remembered for. Probably social networking and Barack Obama. Internet 2.0. Oh, and 9/11. What kind of crazy stuff is going to go down in the 10s? And when I can I start saying I graduated college in aught-one? Because that is deliciously old-timey.

From Pennsylvania folks are travelin'

Yoga definitely provides me with blog fodder. Whether or not it's actually interesting is another question, but hey, it's new content.

Last night the crazy yoga teacher made us go around and say our name and an interesting fact about ourselves. I said I was going to Florida today, which is only semi-interesting. Pretty much everyone else in the class talked about either their kids or their pets. I’m sorry, but the fact that you have three kids isn’t really all that interesting. Or that you have a dog. Could no one come up with more interesting things than this? Once you have kids, is it all downhill in terms of interest?

I suppose we were all just taken aback, since intros aren’t normally a part of yoga class. But I want real interesting facts! Random stuff! It would certainly make the people in the class easier to remember. As of now, they all blend together with their kids and their dogs and their cats.

I am going to Florida today: my interesting fact was true. My plane leaves in about five hours, and I have to drive to Baltimore to catch it. Mike and I were IMing about this: what if your plane crashes when someone is following it in real-time on the computer? I guess it just disappears, but it would be much more fun if there was a big skull and crossbones and a sad trombone. Not fun for your relatives and friends, I suppose, but come on. I’d be DEAD and I’d think that was funny.

I thought about this over Thanksgiving when my plane had free wi-fi. What if hijackers took over? What if the plane started crashing? I mean, technically couldn’t I send out a mass email saying “I love you all! Bye!” That would be weird. And what if I were on AIM? Could I chat until I died? What if you were chatting with someone and they died in front of their computer?

Gah!

This has turned into quite the morbid little blog post. I’ll stop here. Have a good Christmas, and no matter what happens, I’ll catch you on the flip side.

It's that time of year

My BSG viewing has come to an end – finished the series last night. (I DID get the middle-aged romance I wanted, too. And it was better than I even expected! You can see many, many clips on YouTube set to music. People's music choices crack me up.)

Anyway, the wrap-up itself brought decent closure, although it didn’t end the way I would’ve ended it. I’ll be rewriting the ending in my head for a few days, I think.

The good thing about being single/watching BSG alone is that I didn’t have to wait for another person to be around before I watched. I know a couple who is also watching right now, but the wife is out of town, so the husband has to wait until she’s home before he can move on to the next episode. This seems so restrictive to me. I do what I want. I’m a loner. A rebel.

However, the very negative side of my solo-watching is that there’s no one to discuss things with, especially in real-time. I want someone to look at and say “holy frak” when things start getting crazy. And I want long discussions about people and places and things that are happening. I find myself searching out year-old discussion boards and reading through comments, just to get my fix. It’s a dilemma.

I’m always sad to finish a good TV series, even though finishing it means I can get back to actually focusing on things other than making time to watch TV.

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Couple of song-related observations: have you listened to the lyrics of “Here Comes Santa Clause”? It mixes God and Santa all up in an interesting way.

Last night we were doing our yoga poses to Silent Night and then saying Namaste. Mixing East and West like this is jarring to me, although the teacher is more about feel-good mystical Oprah-esque type affirmations, I think, than concern about what fits. Take whatever makes you feel good and mix it all together to find your path. Blech.

One of my favorite lyrics from a Christmas song: “from Pennsylvania folks are traveling down to Dixie’s sunny shores”—mostly because this line perfectly describes what I do every year.

(Do you know what the next line is without looking?)

Livestream of Consciousness

This morning I woke at 7 AM to the muffled sound of a recorded message on an answering machine. The machine wasn’t mine. I could hear the names being recited, though: if you’d like to leave a message for her, press 1, for him, press 2, etc.

This puzzled me, but as I am wont to do early in the morning, I decided it was my neighbor’s machine through the wall.

Until I realized I recognized the names that were being recited, and I knew wasn’t my neighbor – it was the agency I’d phoned yesterday.

I jumped up, thinking I was insane, and began searching for the source of the sounds. I found my cell phone in the bed—I had been lying on it—and the phone itself had placed a call to said agency. I pressed a bunch of buttons but couldn’t get it to hang up. Closed and reopened it—nothing. (Although I was still fuzzy-headed at this point and I have no idea if this was the phone or my brain’s problem.)

I finally got the call to end, and I checked my “Calls Made” list. Every single one of the 20 recent calls made was to that agency phone number. Thank God it was early enough that they weren’t in the office. I really, really hope they don’t have caller ID.

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One of my Facebook friends referred to “Baby It’s Cold Outside” as the date-rape song. My first reaction was “oh, stop, it’s not about date rape” because I thought it was just about a boy trying to persuade a girl not to leave his house. But today when I heard it on the radio I listened to the lyrics, and I really think you can make the case that it IS a date-rape song. “What’s in this drink?” the girl asks at one point. Roofies, honey.

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I am declaring that I like sausage. (Get your minds out of the gutter. I’m talking about the actual product.) It was always something I thought I shouldn’t like, because basically it’s just scraps of pig ground up together and stuffed in a casing—gross, right? Well, it can be. BUT . . . good sausage is actually really tasty and awesome. So, I love sausage. Deal with it.

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I’m burning through my Battlestar Galactica discs at a rapid pace. I rent 5 discs at the video store and finish them in a matter of three or four days. I really, really love this show—but not the spiritual, dreamy Cylon/God/gods crap. I don’t care about that. I like the relationships on the Galactica, the political intrigue, the questions about torture, choices, military action, and (occasionally) some space battles. Really, I would be happy if most of the episodes were just relationship eps. I just noticed in an upcoming one that a character will be dealing with his failed marriage, and that’s the kind of thing that sends thrills through me. Dealings with failed marriages! Hooray!

I think I’m getting old, because I find myself rooting for middle-aged hookups. Of course the hot young people with the sexual chemistry should get together, and of course they will. But what about the older people? They need love and companionship, too! They’re friends who care about each other! They’re both single! Why aren’t they together?! The scenes won’t be the same; there won’t be any blue-lit shots of smooth skin and limbs entwined, because no one wants to see 50-year-old skin, but still. Make it happen, writers. (When the writers don’t write the stories I want them to, I make up new stories in my head when going on walks. I can’t rest until the characters are doing what I think they should do . . . and I'm actually kind of good at calling it. Basically what I thought should happen DID happen in an episode last night. Good times.)

Anyway, if you’re not watching BSG, you should be. That’s the lesson here.

Do you need some time. On your own.

The days just fly by and I forget to blog!

Not really. I think about it and then I don’t do it, that’s the real problem.

Anyway, Halloween came and went, and I didn’t do any of the dressing up I’d planned, not even a good bible character. I did go to the church party, however, and was very impressed by everyone’s costumes. Also, we had to act out skits as part of the fun, and two different groups chose the story of Elisha and the kids and the bears, which is a gruesome story, but super fun to act out. Hey, at least we can have fun with Old Testament horror.

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My current obsession is Battlestar Galactica. I am, as one of my co-workers said, the “Michael Phelps of DVD watching” and that is true. But mostly because I become obsessed and stay up too late and watch nothing but episode after episode. In a week I’ve finished Season 1 and moved on to Season 2. And I was just reading an article online (completely unrelated to BSG) where someone had posted a list of names in the comment section. I passed over that comment without really paying attention, but then I noticed that someone in the same thread was like “OMG BSG spoiler” and I realized that the list of names WAS related to BSG and also probably was a spoiler. I closed the window quickly, but you can’t un-see that! I actually wish the second commenter hadn’t pointed it out.

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The heat is not on in my house yet! It’s a holiday miracle! After a freezing cold October, November really warmed up and thus I haven’t had to turn the heat on, nor has it turned ITSELF on. If I can make it to Thanksgiving, that will be amazing.

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I have to do a lot of phone call interviews for work these days, and it blows. I hate hate hate the phone and everything about phone calls—unless it’s to people I know very well—and even then I’m just as happy with email and texts and IMs. So I’m stalling on the phone interviews bigtime, but I can’t put it off forever. The dreading is actually worse than the calling, so I should just bite the bullet and deal.