I used to play a lot of team sports when I was younger. I distinctly remember in elementary school, while learning about the processes and functions of the body, thinking to myself, "this seems a lot like teamwork."
Maybe it's because I stopped playing team sports, but I've noticed in my old age that the team isn't working together like it used to. I'd like to officially announce my team's non-MVP: my digestive system. When faced with any level or stress or adversity, my digestive system is always the first one to throw in the towel and scream "Fuck this shit - I'm outta here!"
This likely explains why oatmeal was the only solid food I could eat for the two weeks leading up to my first CPA exam. And this week, probably because of my upcoming move, every meal has been followed by and hour or two (or all night) of wondering when my digestive system is going to stop bitching and do its job.
So please, do your job.
June 28, 2012
June 25, 2012
Change is Gonna Come
One Saturday afternoon during college, I was volunteering at an event (the details are unimportant), when the very wise man in charge said to all the volunteers "The only thing in life that is constant is change." So simple, yet I'd never thought of it before.
Though armed with his worldly advice, I still struggle with the application of the principle. Change scares me, even when I know the outcome will be an improvement over the current situation. And of course, since I am me, I think of what could potentially go wrong in every possible scenario, which never helps (when will I learn?).
I start moving into my new apartment on Friday. Saying goodbye to the only apartment I've lived in in LA will be weird. Remembering to drive to my new place instead of the old one will take a conscious effort, especially at the end of a long work day when I'm usually in auto-pilot.
Though armed with his worldly advice, I still struggle with the application of the principle. Change scares me, even when I know the outcome will be an improvement over the current situation. And of course, since I am me, I think of what could potentially go wrong in every possible scenario, which never helps (when will I learn?).
I start moving into my new apartment on Friday. Saying goodbye to the only apartment I've lived in in LA will be weird. Remembering to drive to my new place instead of the old one will take a conscious effort, especially at the end of a long work day when I'm usually in auto-pilot.
June 19, 2012
Age is but a number
Today, I attended a meeting full of auditors and lawyers. We were all wearing black suits.
For lunch, we ordered Chinese food. While opening our fortune cookies, the woman leading the meeting yelled out, "all fortunes are better if you add the words 'in bed' to the end."
So the auditors and lawyers proceeded to read their fortunes aloud accordingly.
And somehow, in that moment, I forgot that I was probably a good decade younger than anyone else at the meeting.
For lunch, we ordered Chinese food. While opening our fortune cookies, the woman leading the meeting yelled out, "all fortunes are better if you add the words 'in bed' to the end."
So the auditors and lawyers proceeded to read their fortunes aloud accordingly.
And somehow, in that moment, I forgot that I was probably a good decade younger than anyone else at the meeting.
June 15, 2012
Greetings from 1878!
This is going to be long, because it's been a while and I have a lot to vent say.
I know, you're dying to know - was 1878 a completely arbitrary year that I pulled out of my ass? Please! I think everything to death! 1878 just so happens to be the year before the electric light bulb was invented, and lights are something I've been without for a few days.
What? You're shocked and appalled that I didn't blog about this sooner? Well, I didn't have internet either (other than on my Blackberry, which barely counts...In fact, it's probably the same model Blackberry they used in 1878). On the subject of my Blackberry, it's starting to arbitrarily shut off, so it might be on it's last legs.
And on the subject of last legs, my cat Smokey died on Tuesday. We were kind of expecting it - she was 17 years old after all - but it's still sad to lose the pet you've had since you were six years old. (Side note: Last weekend, while my family was spending some TLC with the cat, I started to compose a post about preparing to say goodbye to a pet- then got sidetracked, it went into drafts, and now that she's actually dead it seems weird to post it. So I won't). Instead, here is a photo tribute to the original scaredy cat (she spent most of her life hiding in the fireplace. Hence the name Smokey).
Needless to say, this has been quite a week. I am officially living alone now, and I suspect my roommate, in the process of moving out and tying up his own affairs, did everything in his power to completely fuck me over (okay, it was more stupidity than malice, but still frustrating).
On Monday, he disconnected our cable box (and internet), but figured it would keep working for a few days. Wrong. So we were without internet or television. Tuesday night, he and I finally got around to switching the power and utilities into my name (while sitting in a Starbucks, stealing their Wifi). Unfortunately, new accounts take two business days to process. Roommate assured me that the electricity and gas wouldn't go off right away. Wrong again. I came home from work with no electricity, no gas (and still no internet or TV). I tried to call the electric company, but was put on hold for so long that my phone, which I couldn't charge without electricity, was about to die and had to hang up.
During all this chaos, various Craigslist strangers were traipsing through my apartment, which, as of now, is a big empty rectangle. Weirdo after weirdo came to the place, and I was starting to dread the idea of signing a 1 year lease with some weirdo I could barely tolerate, and having another awkward, anti-social year.
Finally, when all was almost lost, a nice, normal girl came to look. I showed her around, we talked for a while, and realized that we hit it off really well. The problem is, she didn't want to live in my apartment. In fact, she pretty much refused. "There are tons of two bedroom apartments around here. Why don't the two of us find another place?" she suggested.
What? No! As a quasi-hermit, her suggestion seemed appalling. Then the electricity went out. Over the course of my lonely, lantern-lit evening, I though more about moving and realized that a change of scenery might be just what I need right now. This apartment has been my skin for the last year, which, if you haven't already figured out on your own, has been a stressful/tiring/lonely and overall weird year. Like the snake that I am, it's time to shed my skin and move on.
Future roommate called me the next night, and we struck a deal: I would be willing to move if she found a good-sized, reasonably-priced place and I could stay in my current apartment for an extra week (since I hadn't given my landlord 30 days notice, I'd have to pay through mid-July). Throughout the work day, she emailed me pictures of apartments. After work, she and I met at our favorite place and filled out paperwork. So now, given that all goes well with the credit check, I'm moving into a lovely new apartment in three weeks!
What a week. Death, "time travel", and a new apartment. Though I'm relieved that things are finally looking up, this has been way too much excitement for one week.
I know, you're dying to know - was 1878 a completely arbitrary year that I pulled out of my ass? Please! I think everything to death! 1878 just so happens to be the year before the electric light bulb was invented, and lights are something I've been without for a few days.
What? You're shocked and appalled that I didn't blog about this sooner? Well, I didn't have internet either (other than on my Blackberry, which barely counts...In fact, it's probably the same model Blackberry they used in 1878). On the subject of my Blackberry, it's starting to arbitrarily shut off, so it might be on it's last legs.
And on the subject of last legs, my cat Smokey died on Tuesday. We were kind of expecting it - she was 17 years old after all - but it's still sad to lose the pet you've had since you were six years old. (Side note: Last weekend, while my family was spending some TLC with the cat, I started to compose a post about preparing to say goodbye to a pet- then got sidetracked, it went into drafts, and now that she's actually dead it seems weird to post it. So I won't). Instead, here is a photo tribute to the original scaredy cat (she spent most of her life hiding in the fireplace. Hence the name Smokey).
 |
| Baby kitty! (notice the date/my outfit - 1995!) |
 | |
| Sultry middle-aged Smokey, guarding my dad's guitar. Check out those eyes. |
Needless to say, this has been quite a week. I am officially living alone now, and I suspect my roommate, in the process of moving out and tying up his own affairs, did everything in his power to completely fuck me over (okay, it was more stupidity than malice, but still frustrating).
On Monday, he disconnected our cable box (and internet), but figured it would keep working for a few days. Wrong. So we were without internet or television. Tuesday night, he and I finally got around to switching the power and utilities into my name (while sitting in a Starbucks, stealing their Wifi). Unfortunately, new accounts take two business days to process. Roommate assured me that the electricity and gas wouldn't go off right away. Wrong again. I came home from work with no electricity, no gas (and still no internet or TV). I tried to call the electric company, but was put on hold for so long that my phone, which I couldn't charge without electricity, was about to die and had to hang up.
During all this chaos, various Craigslist strangers were traipsing through my apartment, which, as of now, is a big empty rectangle. Weirdo after weirdo came to the place, and I was starting to dread the idea of signing a 1 year lease with some weirdo I could barely tolerate, and having another awkward, anti-social year.
Finally, when all was almost lost, a nice, normal girl came to look. I showed her around, we talked for a while, and realized that we hit it off really well. The problem is, she didn't want to live in my apartment. In fact, she pretty much refused. "There are tons of two bedroom apartments around here. Why don't the two of us find another place?" she suggested.
What? No! As a quasi-hermit, her suggestion seemed appalling. Then the electricity went out. Over the course of my lonely, lantern-lit evening, I though more about moving and realized that a change of scenery might be just what I need right now. This apartment has been my skin for the last year, which, if you haven't already figured out on your own, has been a stressful/tiring/lonely and overall weird year. Like the snake that I am, it's time to shed my skin and move on.
Future roommate called me the next night, and we struck a deal: I would be willing to move if she found a good-sized, reasonably-priced place and I could stay in my current apartment for an extra week (since I hadn't given my landlord 30 days notice, I'd have to pay through mid-July). Throughout the work day, she emailed me pictures of apartments. After work, she and I met at our favorite place and filled out paperwork. So now, given that all goes well with the credit check, I'm moving into a lovely new apartment in three weeks!
What a week. Death, "time travel", and a new apartment. Though I'm relieved that things are finally looking up, this has been way too much excitement for one week.
June 8, 2012
Online Dating?
I haven't tried it, but I've heard quite a few complaints from people who have. Finding a roommate via Craigslist is starting to feel like a bad online dating situation. Features include:
Also, even though I specified in my ad that I am a female, at least 90% of the responses I've received have been from men. They're probably serial killers.
- Messages with exceptionally bad grammar/spelling
- Awkward phone number exchanges, often accompanied by the suggestion of a pre meet-up phone conversation (note: I am somewhat terrified of talking on the phone with people I don't know and try to avoid it whenever possible)
- Flakes - people either stop responding to your emails without warning, or don't show up to see the apartment at the mutually agreed-upon time
- Talking about living together with someone who is essentially a stranger
Also, even though I specified in my ad that I am a female, at least 90% of the responses I've received have been from men. They're probably serial killers.
The Narcisist's Dilemna
Word of me passing my CPA exams is working its way around the office, which is funny, because I've all but forgotten about it. Today, the perpetually chipper guy who works in the mail room (and will talk to you for hours if you don't eventually give him the hint that you need to get some work done) approached me in the copy room to offer his congratulations. "You must be the happiest person in the whole world!" he cooed. I smiled and thanked him and headed back to my cube. Thinking about what he'd said, I couldn't help but think what's wrong with me?
The sad truth is, I'm not much happier than I was before. I'm less stressed and anxious, but my general level of happiness is about the same. I tried to warn myself that life would not be sparkly rainbows once I was a CPA, but the part of me that has been deliriously removed from reality these past few months wasn't listening. The harsh reality is that being more accomplished (on paper) doesn't change anything but a line your resume.
Last night, for lack of anything better to do, I looked at slow-cooker recipes on the internet (I was looking at another website that lead me to the recipes). Most recipes call to be cooked on high for 4-6 hours or low for 6-8 hours. Between the time I leave my house in the morning to when I get back is usually closer to 12 hours. No slow-cooking for me. And no regular cooking either - by the end of the day, I'm just too tired.
Tonight, I spent the evening petting the family dog (I'm home for the weekend), and realized how much I miss being around animals. I often joke that I'd kill any pet because I'm not home enough hours to take care of it. It's a joke, but also not a joke. No pets for me until I have a bigger place and someone else to co-parent.
So, to make a long story short, what's wrong with me? I go to work all day, and come home to a quiet empty apartment and a few hours to kill before bed. So what do I do? Think. I am a narcissist by force, and I'm getting tired of thinking about myself because I have nothing else to think about. I need people and/or animals and/or a good meal to relieve me from the world inside my head.
The sad truth is, I'm not much happier than I was before. I'm less stressed and anxious, but my general level of happiness is about the same. I tried to warn myself that life would not be sparkly rainbows once I was a CPA, but the part of me that has been deliriously removed from reality these past few months wasn't listening. The harsh reality is that being more accomplished (on paper) doesn't change anything but a line your resume.
Last night, for lack of anything better to do, I looked at slow-cooker recipes on the internet (I was looking at another website that lead me to the recipes). Most recipes call to be cooked on high for 4-6 hours or low for 6-8 hours. Between the time I leave my house in the morning to when I get back is usually closer to 12 hours. No slow-cooking for me. And no regular cooking either - by the end of the day, I'm just too tired.
Tonight, I spent the evening petting the family dog (I'm home for the weekend), and realized how much I miss being around animals. I often joke that I'd kill any pet because I'm not home enough hours to take care of it. It's a joke, but also not a joke. No pets for me until I have a bigger place and someone else to co-parent.
So, to make a long story short, what's wrong with me? I go to work all day, and come home to a quiet empty apartment and a few hours to kill before bed. So what do I do? Think. I am a narcissist by force, and I'm getting tired of thinking about myself because I have nothing else to think about. I need people and/or animals and/or a good meal to relieve me from the world inside my head.
June 6, 2012
Je ne sais quoi
I hope you haven't been eagerly awaiting the Sasquatch post, because I've officially decided that it's not going to happen. It's been too long, and I've all but forgotten everything I wanted to write.
Plus, this week has been inexplicably exhausting. I think it's because I'm back from vacation, and as of today, I've met all the licensing requirements (happy one-year work-i-versary to me). Don't get me wrong, it's great that this is all finally over, but also, in a way, it feels weird to have nothing on the horizon. No vacations, no tests, no...anything? I feel like I'm floating down a river toward I-don't-know-what.
If anyone has any suggestions as to what I should do with my time/self/life, I'd love to hear them.
Plus, this week has been inexplicably exhausting. I think it's because I'm back from vacation, and as of today, I've met all the licensing requirements (happy one-year work-i-versary to me). Don't get me wrong, it's great that this is all finally over, but also, in a way, it feels weird to have nothing on the horizon. No vacations, no tests, no...anything? I feel like I'm floating down a river toward I-don't-know-what.
If anyone has any suggestions as to what I should do with my time/self/life, I'd love to hear them.
June 2, 2012
I know at this point it just seems like I'm making excuses
I met up with some college friends earlier this evening, and during the drive home (a little over an hour), I thought up a really great post about all the things I had promised I'd write about (music, metaphors, etc). Then, upon returning to my apartment and entering my room, I heard the sound of the toilet water running. This in itself isn't strange - my toilet water always runs unless you pull the lever up a little higher than normal. What was strange is that, for the most part, I am the only person who uses my bathroom, and I always pull the lever up. Thinking I may have simply spaced out, I walked into my bathroom to flip the lever up, and saw that my toilet seat was up.
I am a girl. I have no reason to ever put up the toilet seat. Then I remembered that my roommate's creepy friend stayed at our apartment last night. The same friend who, last time he was here, made awkward comments implying that he wouldn't be opposed to having sex with me if I was also willing (for the record: I am not).
So now I am sitting here, imagining this creepy guy I don't really know walking through my bedroom, smelling my clothes, going into my bathroom, peeing (barfing?!) all over everything, forgetting to put the toilet seat back down (way to hide your tracks, idiot), possibly stealing whatever he felt like stealing, and leaving...and/or doing other things guys do in bathrooms, which I'm trying not to think about.
Not that all of these things definitely happened, but I wasn't here, so I wouldn't know if they did.
Creepy. Weird. I can't remember what I wanted to write about music.
I am a girl. I have no reason to ever put up the toilet seat. Then I remembered that my roommate's creepy friend stayed at our apartment last night. The same friend who, last time he was here, made awkward comments implying that he wouldn't be opposed to having sex with me if I was also willing (for the record: I am not).
So now I am sitting here, imagining this creepy guy I don't really know walking through my bedroom, smelling my clothes, going into my bathroom, peeing (barfing?!) all over everything, forgetting to put the toilet seat back down (way to hide your tracks, idiot), possibly stealing whatever he felt like stealing, and leaving...and/or doing other things guys do in bathrooms, which I'm trying not to think about.
Not that all of these things definitely happened, but I wasn't here, so I wouldn't know if they did.
Creepy. Weird. I can't remember what I wanted to write about music.
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