Today was our annual office Thanksgiving potluck. As I am on the company events committee, I stayed behind after everyone had eaten to clean up the mess. Because I was wearing a silk shirt and washing dishes, I put on an apron to prevent water from splashing onto my shirt.
At one point, one of the mailroom guys walked in, took one look at me washing dishes in my apron, and said "you're going to make a good wife someday."
I'll take it as a compliment with insulting undertones.
November 19, 2013
November 14, 2013
Shitting and Eating
Shitting is nobody's favorite thing, but a necessary evil. Eating, on the other hand, is probably my favorite thing in the entire world.
For the sake of sticking with my metaphor (possibly to a fault), I shit each week for 10 hours per day for four straight days. When I'm not shitting, I want to be as far removed from my shit as I can possibly get. Unfortunately, un-named male coworker (but different than this un-named male coworker), that means that when you ask me to dinner and I say 'no' 5 different ways, please take that as a subtle hint that I have no interest in mixing the two (I may have used the exact phrase 'I don't shit where I eat' as one of my let-downs).
I'm sure one day, once you stop obsessing about me to your gossipy work buddy, you'll find a lovely girl who works elsewhere (or a girl who doesn't mind finding a new job when you break up). Also, gossipy work buddy tells me you're reading into ridiculous details as signs that I am secretly interested in you? Unfortunately, I'm am not, but I'd like to thank you for reminding me why dating (or trying to date) coworkers usually ends awkwardly. Please let me shit in peace. I hope we can remain friends (okay, maybe I couldn't care less, but I'm trying to be the bigger person).
Also, even if you were not associated with my shit, I just don't think I'd be interested, but that's a story for another time (...perhaps a statistical analysis of the likelihood that I will die alone?)
For the sake of sticking with my metaphor (possibly to a fault), I shit each week for 10 hours per day for four straight days. When I'm not shitting, I want to be as far removed from my shit as I can possibly get. Unfortunately, un-named male coworker (but different than this un-named male coworker), that means that when you ask me to dinner and I say 'no' 5 different ways, please take that as a subtle hint that I have no interest in mixing the two (I may have used the exact phrase 'I don't shit where I eat' as one of my let-downs).
I'm sure one day, once you stop obsessing about me to your gossipy work buddy, you'll find a lovely girl who works elsewhere (or a girl who doesn't mind finding a new job when you break up). Also, gossipy work buddy tells me you're reading into ridiculous details as signs that I am secretly interested in you? Unfortunately, I'm am not, but I'd like to thank you for reminding me why dating (or trying to date) coworkers usually ends awkwardly. Please let me shit in peace. I hope we can remain friends (okay, maybe I couldn't care less, but I'm trying to be the bigger person).
Also, even if you were not associated with my shit, I just don't think I'd be interested, but that's a story for another time (...perhaps a statistical analysis of the likelihood that I will die alone?)
November 12, 2013
October 31, 2013
Hallo-what?
My most festive act of the evening was killing a spider that was crawling up the living room wall.
My most festive thought of the evening was that I could tell everyone that I dressed up as the kid from Home Alone (because I was home, alone).
My most festive goal is that I am going to try to make my holiday observances less pathetic before I turn 30.
My most festive thought of the evening was that I could tell everyone that I dressed up as the kid from Home Alone (because I was home, alone).
My most festive goal is that I am going to try to make my holiday observances less pathetic before I turn 30.
October 29, 2013
Sick Daze
In the last 27 hours, I've eaten a cup of dry cereal, a cup of gatorade and a few spoonfuls of rice.
I've moved only between the couch, my bed and the bathroom.
I think for Hanukkah this year, I'd like a caretaker for days like these.
I've moved only between the couch, my bed and the bathroom.
I think for Hanukkah this year, I'd like a caretaker for days like these.
October 20, 2013
A Lesson on Not Wasting Time Being Jealous
In the age of social media, it's easy to see the wonderful/beautiful/fabulous places everyone is going to with their wonderful/beautiful/fabulous friends or significant other. I'm sure I'm not alone in this, but sometimes the overwhelmingly positive cross-section of my friend's lives that they display to the public makes me feel inadequate.
It's tempting to be jealous of what they have, but based on the people I know pretty well in real life, none of them are as happy as they make themselves out to be in their online personas.
Case in point: a particular couple who graduated from my high school a few years before me. For years, their profiles were filled with adorable couple photos, then photos of their lavish wedding, followed by their tropical honeymoon. Fast-forward about 2 years. According to what the groom's bitter mother relayed to my mother, the wife cheated four times in their first year of marriage and then left him.
Good thing I wasted no time being jealous of what they had, which apparently wasn't much.
I wish, every once in a while, someone (other than myself) would have the balls to admit to the world that their life isn't always super awesome and exciting. I'm not saying to air your dirty laundry all over the internet, but make a real effort to create an accurate depiction of who you really are.
Try it. Maybe your friends will hate you less.
It's tempting to be jealous of what they have, but based on the people I know pretty well in real life, none of them are as happy as they make themselves out to be in their online personas.
Case in point: a particular couple who graduated from my high school a few years before me. For years, their profiles were filled with adorable couple photos, then photos of their lavish wedding, followed by their tropical honeymoon. Fast-forward about 2 years. According to what the groom's bitter mother relayed to my mother, the wife cheated four times in their first year of marriage and then left him.
Good thing I wasted no time being jealous of what they had, which apparently wasn't much.
I wish, every once in a while, someone (other than myself) would have the balls to admit to the world that their life isn't always super awesome and exciting. I'm not saying to air your dirty laundry all over the internet, but make a real effort to create an accurate depiction of who you really are.
Try it. Maybe your friends will hate you less.
October 8, 2013
October 7, 2013
Quarter Life
It's approximately one hour until midnight, which means approximately one hour until my 25th birthday.
As the number suggests, is it time for a quarter life crisis? Eh. Been there, done that.
25 is really not that old, in the grand scheme of things. I've been an "adult" for almost 3 years, and I probably have a few good years of "adulthood" left before I reach actual, legitimate adulthood. I should use these years to act like a non-adult while I still can get away with it.
In fact, my "new-age resolution" (because New Year's resolutions are crap anyways) is to act younger this year, because I am tired of acting like an old, washed-up person.
Here's to youth.
As the number suggests, is it time for a quarter life crisis? Eh. Been there, done that.
25 is really not that old, in the grand scheme of things. I've been an "adult" for almost 3 years, and I probably have a few good years of "adulthood" left before I reach actual, legitimate adulthood. I should use these years to act like a non-adult while I still can get away with it.
In fact, my "new-age resolution" (because New Year's resolutions are crap anyways) is to act younger this year, because I am tired of acting like an old, washed-up person.
Here's to youth.
September 28, 2013
More shit is getting more real.
Regarding the previous post, my dad was right. My company was 25% acquired, but not my specific department, so I don't think anything will change. Whoop de doo.
On a different note, my annual performance and salary review is next Wednesday. Time to repent and reflect upon my work sins.
On a different note, my annual performance and salary review is next Wednesday. Time to repent and reflect upon my work sins.
September 19, 2013
Shit is Getting Real (?)
Yesterday at work, a vague email was sent to the entire company announcing that there will be a meeting for everyone on Friday and/or Monday (there are time slots, since all 250 of us won't fit in any of the conference rooms). In the 2 1/2ish years I've worked here, we've never had an all-company meeting. Most announcements are made via email (retirements, new equity partners, moving to a different floor), so I have no idea what could be so important that we all need to be told in person.
Last night, my teammate and I were at a campus recruiting event with our partner, and took the opportunity to play a 'what is the meeting about?' game of 20 questions: [Are we moving? (no) Are we acquiring a new company? (no) Is a partner leaving and taking business away? (no) etc., etc., etc.]. We then asked if he even knew what the meeting was about (yes).
"Are you allowed to tell us?" I asked.
He hesitated..."No. Probably not."
So....WHAT THE FUCK IS IT? Guess I'll find out tomorrow.
My dad's theory is that we are either merging or being acquired by another company. Hmmm.
Last night, my teammate and I were at a campus recruiting event with our partner, and took the opportunity to play a 'what is the meeting about?' game of 20 questions: [Are we moving? (no) Are we acquiring a new company? (no) Is a partner leaving and taking business away? (no) etc., etc., etc.]. We then asked if he even knew what the meeting was about (yes).
"Are you allowed to tell us?" I asked.
He hesitated..."No. Probably not."
So....WHAT THE FUCK IS IT? Guess I'll find out tomorrow.
My dad's theory is that we are either merging or being acquired by another company. Hmmm.
September 16, 2013
The Mondays
Dear thief,
Today, for the first time in 2+ years of my employed adult life, I brought a real, home-cooked meal for lunch. It was a chicken, chickpea and rice curry that I'd cooked for dinner (for those of you who don't know me- it's extremely rare for me to prepare a meal that isn't made in a microwave and takes more than 5 minutes total). Mid-morning, a co-worker asked if I wanted to order food from a restaurant. I declined, because I had a delicious lunch waiting for me in the fridge. When lunchtime arrived, I went to the fridge, and my lunch wasn't there. I checked both refrigerators, both freezers, the counter, my desk, my car. No plastic bag, no tupperware, NO FOOD.
Now, I could almost understand how you might accidentally eat someone else's food ordered from a restaurant, if you had ordered food from that same restaurant and also left it in the fridge, but a home-cooked meal?? You knew damn well that you were eating someone else's food and didn't care. The email I sent to the whole department asking if anyone had 'seen my missing tupperware' (ie - who the fuck ate my lunch?), got many responses from people who had also had their lunches stolen. I ended up heating a frozen lasagna that was neither filling nor satisfying.
Hopefully, calling you out as a thief (whoever you are) will embarrass you enough to keep your paws off food that ain't yours, or at least keep the rest of the department alert enough to catch you in the act. You ruined my lunch, and for that, you must pay!
Also, as I was leaving for the day, I picked up my water cup by the lid, which was not screwed on all the way, and spilled the entire cup all over myself and my chair and my files. I headed home with water still dripping from my skirt and down my leg.
Happy Monday,
Today, for the first time in 2+ years of my employed adult life, I brought a real, home-cooked meal for lunch. It was a chicken, chickpea and rice curry that I'd cooked for dinner (for those of you who don't know me- it's extremely rare for me to prepare a meal that isn't made in a microwave and takes more than 5 minutes total). Mid-morning, a co-worker asked if I wanted to order food from a restaurant. I declined, because I had a delicious lunch waiting for me in the fridge. When lunchtime arrived, I went to the fridge, and my lunch wasn't there. I checked both refrigerators, both freezers, the counter, my desk, my car. No plastic bag, no tupperware, NO FOOD.
Now, I could almost understand how you might accidentally eat someone else's food ordered from a restaurant, if you had ordered food from that same restaurant and also left it in the fridge, but a home-cooked meal?? You knew damn well that you were eating someone else's food and didn't care. The email I sent to the whole department asking if anyone had 'seen my missing tupperware' (ie - who the fuck ate my lunch?), got many responses from people who had also had their lunches stolen. I ended up heating a frozen lasagna that was neither filling nor satisfying.
Hopefully, calling you out as a thief (whoever you are) will embarrass you enough to keep your paws off food that ain't yours, or at least keep the rest of the department alert enough to catch you in the act. You ruined my lunch, and for that, you must pay!
Also, as I was leaving for the day, I picked up my water cup by the lid, which was not screwed on all the way, and spilled the entire cup all over myself and my chair and my files. I headed home with water still dripping from my skirt and down my leg.
Happy Monday,
September 13, 2013
Sleepover
Last night, for the sake of doing something different, I decided to move my pillows and blankets next to my bed and sleep on the floor, sleepover style. Needless to say, having a sleepover by myself in my own room was completely pointless (and my neck hurt this morning from sleeping on the floor).
Once I finished browsing the various websites I frequent, my final 'sleepover' activity was listening to the radio while trying not to fall asleep. Eventually, the music stopped and I fell asleep.
Next think I know, I am woken up in the middle of the the night to the sound of a brand new song I've been listening to blasting over the radio (it's a great song). Surprised that the radio was still on (I thought I'd turned it off), and surprised that this brand new song was on the radio at 3am, I fumbled in the dark with the radio remote until I eventually found the off button.
This morning I pondered a few alternatives of what might have happened:
1) I fell asleep with the radio on, and after 3 hours of deep sleep, my brain recognized this particular song and woke me up to listen to it.
2) I turned the radio off before I fell asleep, and dreamed the whole thing.
3) I was having a sleepover by myself. Obviously, I've lost it.
Once I finished browsing the various websites I frequent, my final 'sleepover' activity was listening to the radio while trying not to fall asleep. Eventually, the music stopped and I fell asleep.
Next think I know, I am woken up in the middle of the the night to the sound of a brand new song I've been listening to blasting over the radio (it's a great song). Surprised that the radio was still on (I thought I'd turned it off), and surprised that this brand new song was on the radio at 3am, I fumbled in the dark with the radio remote until I eventually found the off button.
This morning I pondered a few alternatives of what might have happened:
1) I fell asleep with the radio on, and after 3 hours of deep sleep, my brain recognized this particular song and woke me up to listen to it.
2) I turned the radio off before I fell asleep, and dreamed the whole thing.
3) I was having a sleepover by myself. Obviously, I've lost it.
August 27, 2013
My Idiot Boss
During busy season, the Tax department gets dinners catered on Tuesday and Thursday. After the tax guys and gals are done eating, the rest of us get to pick at the leftovers.
Tonight's dinner was Chinese food.
After dinner, my boss came over, somewhat frantically.
"Did any of you eat a fortune cookie?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Did yours have a fortune in it?"
"Yeah." I wasn't sure what he was getting at.
"Shit. I must have eaten mine."
HAHAHA. Idiot.
Tonight's dinner was Chinese food.
After dinner, my boss came over, somewhat frantically.
"Did any of you eat a fortune cookie?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Did yours have a fortune in it?"
"Yeah." I wasn't sure what he was getting at.
"Shit. I must have eaten mine."
HAHAHA. Idiot.
August 8, 2013
Fake Birthday
Happy fake birthday to me. Though my real birthday is exactly two months away, I used to tell people my birthday was August 8 so my date of birth could be 8/8/88.
That would have been an epic birth date, but probably not worth the permanent health defects caused by being born two months premature. So, I'll stick with 10/8/88 and fully developed lungs.
Also, sorry for the hiatus. I wish I had an explanation for it, other than a combination of laziness and apathy, but I don't.
That would have been an epic birth date, but probably not worth the permanent health defects caused by being born two months premature. So, I'll stick with 10/8/88 and fully developed lungs.
Also, sorry for the hiatus. I wish I had an explanation for it, other than a combination of laziness and apathy, but I don't.
July 3, 2013
American Psychos
Dear Crazies Everywhere:
Tomorrow is a day dedicated to celebrating patriotism, marked by parades and social gatherings of all sizes.
If you are in possession of a gun, feeling unstable, and planning to attend a large social gathering,
do us all a favor and just fucking don't.
Tomorrow is a day dedicated to celebrating patriotism, marked by parades and social gatherings of all sizes.
If you are in possession of a gun, feeling unstable, and planning to attend a large social gathering,
do us all a favor and just fucking don't.
July 1, 2013
Hints and Lines
Dear [unnamed male co-worker],
Early last week, while discussing our weekends, I mentioned that I had gone on a hike. You said that you knew of a cool hike, and asked me if I wanted to hike with you the following weekend.
I agreed, because I like hiking.
Had I been aware of the implications attached to someone who likes hiking agreeing to go on a hike, or that you were going to tell your family about the hike (and therefore, me), or that you were going to bombard me with constant texts for the next three days, I would not have gone on the hike.
So, please take a hint from the fact that I'm only answering 1 of every 5 texts you're sending (and that's only because I work with you every day), and leave me alone, before I have to tell you to leave me alone. You are crossing all kinds of lines, and I'm getting annoyed.
In conclusion, I went on a hike because i LIKE HIKING, not because I like you.
Early last week, while discussing our weekends, I mentioned that I had gone on a hike. You said that you knew of a cool hike, and asked me if I wanted to hike with you the following weekend.
I agreed, because I like hiking.
Had I been aware of the implications attached to someone who likes hiking agreeing to go on a hike, or that you were going to tell your family about the hike (and therefore, me), or that you were going to bombard me with constant texts for the next three days, I would not have gone on the hike.
So, please take a hint from the fact that I'm only answering 1 of every 5 texts you're sending (and that's only because I work with you every day), and leave me alone, before I have to tell you to leave me alone. You are crossing all kinds of lines, and I'm getting annoyed.
In conclusion, I went on a hike because i LIKE HIKING, not because I like you.
June 29, 2013
You Win, Dustin Hoffman
A little over two years ago, I posted this entry about how I was so much more prepared for adulthood than Dustin Hoffman's character in The Graduate because I had a job lined up.
Ha! Tonight, I eat those words.
Let's say life is a 100 piece puzzle, and having a job comprises 10 pieces of that puzzle. Attempting to figure out the puzzle despite 90 missing pieces (assuming the 10 pieces I have are consecutive pieces, which they probably aren't) would just be spinning my wheels.
Which brings me back to my idea that a lot of us have a Dustin Hoffman phase after college. Whether we admit to it is another story.
The fact is, there's a good chunk of years where it's almost impossible to not be a drifter. Other than having a job, my life is full of variables. And, until I have some sort of direction, I don't want to make any major life decisions for the sake of feeling like I'm in control, and blow myself off course. My hope is that I'll eventually drift onto whatever shore I'm unknowingly headed for anyway.
You might think I'm just being lazy, but I have a historical trend of screwing things up when I try too hard.
Ha! Tonight, I eat those words.
Let's say life is a 100 piece puzzle, and having a job comprises 10 pieces of that puzzle. Attempting to figure out the puzzle despite 90 missing pieces (assuming the 10 pieces I have are consecutive pieces, which they probably aren't) would just be spinning my wheels.
Which brings me back to my idea that a lot of us have a Dustin Hoffman phase after college. Whether we admit to it is another story.
The fact is, there's a good chunk of years where it's almost impossible to not be a drifter. Other than having a job, my life is full of variables. And, until I have some sort of direction, I don't want to make any major life decisions for the sake of feeling like I'm in control, and blow myself off course. My hope is that I'll eventually drift onto whatever shore I'm unknowingly headed for anyway.
You might think I'm just being lazy, but I have a historical trend of screwing things up when I try too hard.
June 28, 2013
If you're going to be a one-trick pony, make sure your trick is half-way interesting
Why is it that every time I see someone I haven't seen in a while, and they ask me what I've been up to, the only thing I can think to say is 'working?' Then they ask what else I've been doing, and I awkwardly can't think of anything, and then the subject gets changed.
I know I've been doing fun and interesting things on weekends, but they all get buried and forgotten under the piles of paper I push around all week.
So, to whoever is in charge of sending the memo informing the world that I have gotten old and boring, could you please copy me on this memo and/or give me an 'I Am Old and Boring' t-shirt or sign to wear on my forehead? I just want everyone to know.
I know I've been doing fun and interesting things on weekends, but they all get buried and forgotten under the piles of paper I push around all week.
So, to whoever is in charge of sending the memo informing the world that I have gotten old and boring, could you please copy me on this memo and/or give me an 'I Am Old and Boring' t-shirt or sign to wear on my forehead? I just want everyone to know.
June 21, 2013
On Receiving Music
Whenever someone promises they'll give me music, I force myself to not get excited until they actually deliver on their promise. Before you write me off as a cynic (though that also might be the case), hear me out:
Long ago (or not so long ago, depending on what you consider long), a certain boy promised me a flash drive with 1,000 of his favorite songs on it. I was excited, obviously, and anxious to receive the goods. The problem was, I was on the west coast and he was on the east coast. I didn't want to be a nag, so instead of asking for the music, I mailed him mix-tapes of my own, in an attempt to rev his memory. He'd always call me to to say thanks, and end the call with "Oh, I still owe you that flash drive!"
As things started slipping south (as things tend to do when a couple occupies two different coasts), I started actually asking him for the flash drive, in fear that I'd never get it otherwise. First he complained that he didn't have a flash drive. Then, once he got the flash drive, he didn't have an envelope. After about six months of this, I gave up.
Then, one night, I was greeted with "I mailed the flash drive!" I was SO excited. Every day, I waited by the window for the mail truck so I could immediately dart to the mailbox to see if the flash drive was there. Finally, a regular paper envelope arrived with my name written in his chicken-scratch handwriting. I tore open the envelope. Inside was a card, saying 'Here's the flash drive...I hope you like it...etc...,' but the flash drive wasn't inside. I checked the envelope to see if it had fallen out of the card. It was then that I noticed a flash drive-sized hole in the bottom corner of the envelope. It had fallen out somewhere between New York and California.
I called him, almost in tears, because the flash drive that was going to save us had gotten lost in the mail. He didn't seem as upset as I was, but promised he'd resend it.
Guess what guys - he never did.
Long ago (or not so long ago, depending on what you consider long), a certain boy promised me a flash drive with 1,000 of his favorite songs on it. I was excited, obviously, and anxious to receive the goods. The problem was, I was on the west coast and he was on the east coast. I didn't want to be a nag, so instead of asking for the music, I mailed him mix-tapes of my own, in an attempt to rev his memory. He'd always call me to to say thanks, and end the call with "Oh, I still owe you that flash drive!"
As things started slipping south (as things tend to do when a couple occupies two different coasts), I started actually asking him for the flash drive, in fear that I'd never get it otherwise. First he complained that he didn't have a flash drive. Then, once he got the flash drive, he didn't have an envelope. After about six months of this, I gave up.
Then, one night, I was greeted with "I mailed the flash drive!" I was SO excited. Every day, I waited by the window for the mail truck so I could immediately dart to the mailbox to see if the flash drive was there. Finally, a regular paper envelope arrived with my name written in his chicken-scratch handwriting. I tore open the envelope. Inside was a card, saying 'Here's the flash drive...I hope you like it...etc...,' but the flash drive wasn't inside. I checked the envelope to see if it had fallen out of the card. It was then that I noticed a flash drive-sized hole in the bottom corner of the envelope. It had fallen out somewhere between New York and California.
I called him, almost in tears, because the flash drive that was going to save us had gotten lost in the mail. He didn't seem as upset as I was, but promised he'd resend it.
Guess what guys - he never did.
June 5, 2013
Toddlerhood
Happy second birthday to my adult life.
A whopping two June 6ths ago, I suited up for the first time and trudged into the real world.
Time, how did you fly by so quickly? No, seriously?
Here's to another ____ years at my job (the blank is because my current plan is to not plan, so I have not idea how many year(s) I'll stay).
A whopping two June 6ths ago, I suited up for the first time and trudged into the real world.
Time, how did you fly by so quickly? No, seriously?
Here's to another ____ years at my job (the blank is because my current plan is to not plan, so I have not idea how many year(s) I'll stay).
June 2, 2013
Why not take a fake vacation?
My non-new album recommendation of the day is The Flying Club Cup by Beirut. If you really want to take a long trip to Europe, but don't have the time or means, close your eyes and listen to this and it will almost feel like you're there.Or, better yet, listen to this album and then take a long trip to Europe.
May 31, 2013
On My Shoulders
My only concern is my lack of concern for the fact that I am falling off the face of the earth.
Shoulder angel, who appears to have taken a mysterious leave of absence (and/or went on strike), would normally encourage me to climb back on. Shoulder devil is perfectly content allowing me to get sucked into whatever black hole happens to be passing by until the universe decides to spit me back out.
Shoulder devil realizes that putting in a little effort never hurt anyone, and that's exactly why he doesn't want to.
It's a dilemma.
Shoulder angel, who appears to have taken a mysterious leave of absence (and/or went on strike), would normally encourage me to climb back on. Shoulder devil is perfectly content allowing me to get sucked into whatever black hole happens to be passing by until the universe decides to spit me back out.
Shoulder devil realizes that putting in a little effort never hurt anyone, and that's exactly why he doesn't want to.
It's a dilemma.
May 19, 2013
Word
My blogging ability lately has been like that annoying and completely unnecessary setting on Microsoft Word that causes the text you're currently typing to delete and replace any text after it.
To explain: the annoying Microsoft Word setting is me attempting to write a blog post, and the words getting erased are the thoughts falling out the back of my brain as I type. I can't get through a post without completely forgetting the point of what I was saying.
So, many pointless, deleted entries later, this is all I got.
To explain: the annoying Microsoft Word setting is me attempting to write a blog post, and the words getting erased are the thoughts falling out the back of my brain as I type. I can't get through a post without completely forgetting the point of what I was saying.
So, many pointless, deleted entries later, this is all I got.
May 9, 2013
Fathoming
Processing death has split my brain into two parts; the parent, and the child. Parent isn't having much luck explaining death to child, because forever isn't an easy concept for a child to understand.
Because the child still hasn't grasped the concept of death, she has become fixated on the idea of her own eventual demise. Every time she drives through an intersection, she envisions the drunk or distracted driver that could plow into her car at full speed. And every time she's on the freeway, the mechanical error either in her car or her brain that could cause her to careen off the tallest part of the overpass onto traffic below. Or that stomach ache, which might actually be the only warning symptom of a rare and fatal disease. Basically, child is afraid of what she doesn't understand.
It's funny how death can be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Because the child still hasn't grasped the concept of death, she has become fixated on the idea of her own eventual demise. Every time she drives through an intersection, she envisions the drunk or distracted driver that could plow into her car at full speed. And every time she's on the freeway, the mechanical error either in her car or her brain that could cause her to careen off the tallest part of the overpass onto traffic below. Or that stomach ache, which might actually be the only warning symptom of a rare and fatal disease. Basically, child is afraid of what she doesn't understand.
It's funny how death can be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
May 1, 2013
A Last Hurrah
My grandpa died this morning at 5:45 am. Yesterday, before they put him under, the last thing he did was sing a song he always used to sing, recite his ABCs and count to 100.
Which begs the question, what would you do for your last hurrah?
Which begs the question, what would you do for your last hurrah?
April 30, 2013
Limbo
I've never been good with goodbyes. Death is the ultimate goodbye.
As of now, I'm in limbo. My grandpa has been fairly sick for the past few years, really sick for a few months, and in the hospital for the past week.
My sister, parents and I went to visit him in the hospital this past weekend. My aunt was in the process of packing up the stuff in his apartment (he hasn't lived there for the fast few months because he couldn't get up the flight of stairs), and was showing us pictures and reading tidbits of articles and interviews she'd found. He was in and out of consciousness, but appreciated our company. I could tell he was trying to not let us see how much pain he was in.
I'm glad I saw him, but it was scary to see him looking so old and scared and sick. It was hard to not get visibly upset during the visits. I don't know how some people do it.
Yesterday, he was doing better (which isn't that good at this point), with the possibility of leaving the hospital and going to a skilled nursing facility.
But, as a once dignified, grown adult, who now wears diapers and gets spoon fed and is in horrible pain in most parts of his body, he finally decided he didn't want to do it anymore. As of this morning, he decided to stop dialysis (the process that filters your blood when your kidneys don't work). Now, he's laying in a hospital bed, sedated, until he dies of whichever one of his ailments decides to take him first. Probably "tonight or tomorrow," said my mom.
The inevitable hasn't happened yet, but it's...inevitable. It's impossible not to think about the fact that "tonight or tomorrow," I won't have any living grandparents left, but also, at this point, passing is the only thing that will relieve him from all the pain a suffering. Limbo is the hardest part. Waiting for the end.
Today I watched the sun set, marking the end of the day and the end of a month. And the end of a life. Since I'm not one to procrastinate, goodbye grandpa. I love you, and I hope wherever you go next is better.
As of now, I'm in limbo. My grandpa has been fairly sick for the past few years, really sick for a few months, and in the hospital for the past week.
My sister, parents and I went to visit him in the hospital this past weekend. My aunt was in the process of packing up the stuff in his apartment (he hasn't lived there for the fast few months because he couldn't get up the flight of stairs), and was showing us pictures and reading tidbits of articles and interviews she'd found. He was in and out of consciousness, but appreciated our company. I could tell he was trying to not let us see how much pain he was in.
I'm glad I saw him, but it was scary to see him looking so old and scared and sick. It was hard to not get visibly upset during the visits. I don't know how some people do it.
Yesterday, he was doing better (which isn't that good at this point), with the possibility of leaving the hospital and going to a skilled nursing facility.
But, as a once dignified, grown adult, who now wears diapers and gets spoon fed and is in horrible pain in most parts of his body, he finally decided he didn't want to do it anymore. As of this morning, he decided to stop dialysis (the process that filters your blood when your kidneys don't work). Now, he's laying in a hospital bed, sedated, until he dies of whichever one of his ailments decides to take him first. Probably "tonight or tomorrow," said my mom.
The inevitable hasn't happened yet, but it's...inevitable. It's impossible not to think about the fact that "tonight or tomorrow," I won't have any living grandparents left, but also, at this point, passing is the only thing that will relieve him from all the pain a suffering. Limbo is the hardest part. Waiting for the end.
Today I watched the sun set, marking the end of the day and the end of a month. And the end of a life. Since I'm not one to procrastinate, goodbye grandpa. I love you, and I hope wherever you go next is better.
April 19, 2013
Double Stuff
Pertaining to my previous post (and the continuing streak of Northeast creepiness), I can't imagine being a young child and trying to comprehend what is happening right now. Also, I can't imagine being a parent of a young child, trying to explain what is happening right now. I'm struggling to find the balance between going about my daily life and processing these horrific current events. Life goes on, but also, it doesn't.
Also, on a less heavy note, but perhaps to further explain why I'm in generally 'eh' spirits, I'm learning the weight that coworkers have in overall job satisfaction. Or, lack thereof. For nearly two years, I've sat in the same seat, next to the same teammate. About two weeks ago, to accommodate for another department's expansion, my teammate was moved to a different space, and a new girl was moved into his former spot. In two weeks, the only verbal exchange I've had with this girl is her asking me (not nicely, mind you) to chew my gum with my mouth closed (for the record: I do). Basically, she's a bitch, and I dread coming to work every day knowing that I'll have to spend 10 hours sitting next to (but not talking to) a person that I hate. The only reason I'm not looking for a new job is because my department is moving to a different floor in our building in a few months, and (HOPEFULLY), I'll be sitting with my team again. And not the gum-hater.
Also, on a less heavy note, but perhaps to further explain why I'm in generally 'eh' spirits, I'm learning the weight that coworkers have in overall job satisfaction. Or, lack thereof. For nearly two years, I've sat in the same seat, next to the same teammate. About two weeks ago, to accommodate for another department's expansion, my teammate was moved to a different space, and a new girl was moved into his former spot. In two weeks, the only verbal exchange I've had with this girl is her asking me (not nicely, mind you) to chew my gum with my mouth closed (for the record: I do). Basically, she's a bitch, and I dread coming to work every day knowing that I'll have to spend 10 hours sitting next to (but not talking to) a person that I hate. The only reason I'm not looking for a new job is because my department is moving to a different floor in our building in a few months, and (HOPEFULLY), I'll be sitting with my team again. And not the gum-hater.
April 15, 2013
Any City, USA
After a weekend away, I was welcomed back to reality with harsh, unloving arms.
Another senseless act of violence, committed upon a group of people gathered to celebrate the triumphs of their peers. The victims were doing nothing that any normal person in any normal city wouldn't do, and yet they are left disfigured, both physically and emotionally, by an arbitrary act of hate. Violence is a disease that, if left untreated, will continue to spread. We need to stop this epidemic in its tracks. Even if you were not personally affected by the events that occurred today; next time, it could be your city, and your peers. Or, it could be you.
We are privileged enough to live in a country with virtually no wars fought on our turf. Why then, do we insist on waging a war on our own people?
Another senseless act of violence, committed upon a group of people gathered to celebrate the triumphs of their peers. The victims were doing nothing that any normal person in any normal city wouldn't do, and yet they are left disfigured, both physically and emotionally, by an arbitrary act of hate. Violence is a disease that, if left untreated, will continue to spread. We need to stop this epidemic in its tracks. Even if you were not personally affected by the events that occurred today; next time, it could be your city, and your peers. Or, it could be you.
We are privileged enough to live in a country with virtually no wars fought on our turf. Why then, do we insist on waging a war on our own people?
April 8, 2013
My Motto
This quote is my personal motto. Before you scold me for having such a motto, I never said that I chose this as my personal motto. In fact, it chose me. Perhaps it will provide some context for...everything I've ever written.
April 4, 2013
Analyze That
Last night, I drove my car into a lake. There were tons people around, but nobody seemed to notice what had happened. In fact, nobody even seemed to see me as I sat by the edge of the lake wondering what to do. I couldn't call anyone, because my phone (and purse) were at the bottom of the lake.
Then my alarm went off. Much to my relief, my car was parked in its regular spot.
Then my alarm went off. Much to my relief, my car was parked in its regular spot.
March 17, 2013
Sometimes, the best decisions make themselves
We've all been in a situation where nothing is going according to plan. That plan you so painstakingly developed - outlining who, what, when, where, why, and how all things would occur to get you to the desired end result - it's just not happening.
Inevitably, as all over-planned things do, you'll grow frustrated will the universe's tendency to throw any and all obstacles your way in order to deviate you from your destiny.
When you're in the midst of one of these crises, it's hard to have the perspective to see what's really going on. But, for those of you who aren't, it becomes blindingly obvious that you are an idiot, and the universe, with your best interests in mind, is intervening to prevent you from making stupid choices. Think about it.
Inevitably, as all over-planned things do, you'll grow frustrated will the universe's tendency to throw any and all obstacles your way in order to deviate you from your destiny.
When you're in the midst of one of these crises, it's hard to have the perspective to see what's really going on. But, for those of you who aren't, it becomes blindingly obvious that you are an idiot, and the universe, with your best interests in mind, is intervening to prevent you from making stupid choices. Think about it.
March 4, 2013
My Apologies
I'm still trying to shake this flu. For the most part, I feel better, but my energy levels are much lower than normal, and I'm still dealing with morning headaches and nausea. I'm thinking perhaps I have a sinus infection, or maybe just allergies.
Either way, sorry I am a shitty blogger with nothing interesting to say.
My most eloquent thought today has been "Am I going to barf? No? Okay, I'll go to work."
Either way, sorry I am a shitty blogger with nothing interesting to say.
My most eloquent thought today has been "Am I going to barf? No? Okay, I'll go to work."
February 26, 2013
Irony, and other things
This year, I got a flu shot for the the first time. Also this year, I got the flu for the first time (since I can remember). $25 not well spent.
My ratio of working hours to sleeping hours so far this week - 22:4. That's bad.
BUT - this song is good. And the Shout Out Louds (FYI - they're SWEDISH!!!) have a new album. That is also good.
Worst post ever? (For once, your lack of comments will make me feel better!)
My ratio of working hours to sleeping hours so far this week - 22:4. That's bad.
BUT - this song is good. And the Shout Out Louds (FYI - they're SWEDISH!!!) have a new album. That is also good.
Worst post ever? (For once, your lack of comments will make me feel better!)
February 17, 2013
Field Day
Yesterday, I stumbled upon this site: Serious Eats. I recall visiting it once or twice before, long before I was a city-dweller, but this time it seemed much more...relevant.
My mind sometimes oversimplifies things by compartmentalizing my existence into two categories: home and away. The 'home' time is when I'm living my normal, every day live. Wake up, work, eat, do chores, sleep. I'll admit, it can become boring. My 'away' time is when I'm traveling. I seek out the exotic and the unusual. I explore. Away time is never boring.
Seeing that Serious Eats has a regional site for Los Angeles makes me question how separate my two spheres need to be. Why can't I integrate the two a little more (obviously it'll take more than food, but it's a start)?
I'd love to get as far away from home as I possibly can (and perhaps stay there forever), but at my stage in life, constant travel isn't a realistic possibility (I'm talking multi-month excursions on different continents). However, the idea of exploring at home isn't too depressing of a concession, so that is what I'll do.
First stop - reliving my time in Istanbul by seeing if this pide (Turkish pizza) is 1/10 as delicious as it was in Istanbul (which would still be really, really good).
My mind sometimes oversimplifies things by compartmentalizing my existence into two categories: home and away. The 'home' time is when I'm living my normal, every day live. Wake up, work, eat, do chores, sleep. I'll admit, it can become boring. My 'away' time is when I'm traveling. I seek out the exotic and the unusual. I explore. Away time is never boring.
Seeing that Serious Eats has a regional site for Los Angeles makes me question how separate my two spheres need to be. Why can't I integrate the two a little more (obviously it'll take more than food, but it's a start)?
I'd love to get as far away from home as I possibly can (and perhaps stay there forever), but at my stage in life, constant travel isn't a realistic possibility (I'm talking multi-month excursions on different continents). However, the idea of exploring at home isn't too depressing of a concession, so that is what I'll do.
First stop - reliving my time in Istanbul by seeing if this pide (Turkish pizza) is 1/10 as delicious as it was in Istanbul (which would still be really, really good).
February 12, 2013
This and That
I've been too tired to compose a real post, so I'll leave you with a small cross-section of what my brain has been up to in the off-hours. The former music-mixer in me loves to compare new music to old music. Here's a few examples (obviously with modern updates, but definitely influenced by oldies. Love me some oldies. And Newbies). Enjoy!
Bill Withers / James Blake
Blondie / Arcade Fire
The Beatles / Tame Impala
Bill Withers / James Blake
Blondie / Arcade Fire
The Beatles / Tame Impala
February 6, 2013
The Full Podium
As written in a previous post:
The Golden Rule:
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
The Silver Rule:
You can only expect others to treat you as well as you think you deserve to be treated.
And now, I present the Bronze Rule:
Say unto yourself as you would say unto others.
[Translation: no self-bullying unless you bully others, which is also bad. So don't bully anyone at all, including yourself.]
The Golden Rule:
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
The Silver Rule:
You can only expect others to treat you as well as you think you deserve to be treated.
And now, I present the Bronze Rule:
Say unto yourself as you would say unto others.
[Translation: no self-bullying unless you bully others, which is also bad. So don't bully anyone at all, including yourself.]
 |
| Obviously these guys knew the rules |
February 3, 2013
Clean
To answer the question posed in my last post: yes. But not for the reason I expected.
My weekend was full of fun plans. And, as planned, they were all fun. But, the thing that really made my weekend was a completely spontaneous dance party. As I flailed around my friends' apartment like an idiot, I found that, for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't thinking about anything. Not the stressful work week ahead, not the future, nothing. I was just absorbing the music into my soul and dancing. It was beautiful to feel so free and at ease.
Afterward, while driving home and blasting classic rock (interspersed with sitar solos), I thought about how long it had been since I'd felt so (dare I say it?) happy. For a moment, I was unsettled by the idea that I had become so disconnected from that part of myself, but then the voice in my head said, 'Dana, this is why you are alive.' And I actually started to cry a little bit - happy tears, I think. Or tears of relief that the hard outer shell of worry and anxiety that sometimes cuts me off from everything and everyone is finally starting to crack.
Also, I think I need to dance more. Just for the hell of it. Dance myself clean.
My weekend was full of fun plans. And, as planned, they were all fun. But, the thing that really made my weekend was a completely spontaneous dance party. As I flailed around my friends' apartment like an idiot, I found that, for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't thinking about anything. Not the stressful work week ahead, not the future, nothing. I was just absorbing the music into my soul and dancing. It was beautiful to feel so free and at ease.
Afterward, while driving home and blasting classic rock (interspersed with sitar solos), I thought about how long it had been since I'd felt so (dare I say it?) happy. For a moment, I was unsettled by the idea that I had become so disconnected from that part of myself, but then the voice in my head said, 'Dana, this is why you are alive.' And I actually started to cry a little bit - happy tears, I think. Or tears of relief that the hard outer shell of worry and anxiety that sometimes cuts me off from everything and everyone is finally starting to crack.
Also, I think I need to dance more. Just for the hell of it. Dance myself clean.
February 2, 2013
Science
You know those studies that show that people who are surround by close friends and family live longer, happier lives? Well I think they're on to something.
Now I shall test if this theory also applies when reversing a horrible work week. Results to follow...
Now I shall test if this theory also applies when reversing a horrible work week. Results to follow...
January 30, 2013
Dear certain individuals at my place of employment:
Thank you for bringing to light the fact that I'm far from perfect. I've always had a fairly realistic grasp of my own abilities, and the ability to administer self-discipline when I failed to meet my expectations. However, this can sometimes be an exhausting job, so I appreciate that you've taken the initiative to help remind me of my flaws.
Thank you for bringing to light the fact that I've had an overwhelming workload since returning from vacation, despite doing the maximum number of allowable overtime hours in the four weeks since I've been back. Next time I consider taking a vacation, I'll be sure to keep my priorities in check.
Thank you for bringing to light all the unimportant mistakes I've made since returning from said vacation. They probably had nothing to do with the fact that I'm juggling an enormous workload while responding to the demands of five different people.
Thank you for letting me know that it's all my fault the new teammate is not thriving. That one day I taught him one thing must have been very influential.
I am honored that you consider me "the bridge" between the lower and upper members of the team. Thank you for trusting me with so much responsibility while giving me absolutely no power or decision-making abilities.
And finally, thank you for the forewarning that I may not be promoted in the fall after all. If I simply cannot meet your expectations, perhaps I should find a different place of employment that is better suited for someone less competent.
Thank you for bringing to light the fact that I've had an overwhelming workload since returning from vacation, despite doing the maximum number of allowable overtime hours in the four weeks since I've been back. Next time I consider taking a vacation, I'll be sure to keep my priorities in check.
Thank you for bringing to light all the unimportant mistakes I've made since returning from said vacation. They probably had nothing to do with the fact that I'm juggling an enormous workload while responding to the demands of five different people.
Thank you for letting me know that it's all my fault the new teammate is not thriving. That one day I taught him one thing must have been very influential.
I am honored that you consider me "the bridge" between the lower and upper members of the team. Thank you for trusting me with so much responsibility while giving me absolutely no power or decision-making abilities.
And finally, thank you for the forewarning that I may not be promoted in the fall after all. If I simply cannot meet your expectations, perhaps I should find a different place of employment that is better suited for someone less competent.
January 25, 2013
Simple Things
My happy time: Friday evening, after all the chores are done, sheets washed, laundry put away. Sitting on the couch, relieved to have survived another week.
January 11, 2013
What I Know
The older I get, the more I realize how little I know about anything. Not necessarily in a terrifying or overwhelming way - just as a statement of fact. I've accepted it and moved on.
Earlier today, I was having a conversation with a friend, and we got on the topic of people living insincere lives. By this, I mean those who live their lives in pursuit of external validation and approval. It doesn't matter what they actually like or how they feel about things - what matters is what others (their group of friends...society?) think. I think social media has made this phenomenon worse. What if I post a photo on Instagram and only a few people like it? (The world ends, DUH.) Opportunities for external validation (or a lack thereof) have woven their way into every waking moment of our lives, even when they're unsolicited.
My point (and how the first two paragraphs tie together) - is that I don't give a shit what other people think. I might not know much about the world as a whole, but I know myself - I know what I like, and I know how I feel about things. I'm not about to let others' differing likes and feelings change mine.
All of my instagram photos, tweets, even this blog, are for ME. If you like them too, good for you, but I'm not about the let the fear of no 'likes' or comments prevent me from expressing myself in whatever way I feel is appropriate.
I can't be dishonest with myself or others. Sometime my truth-seeking ways get me down (the truth ain't always pretty), but I'd rather be hurt by the truth than live a lie. And while I navigate through this un-chartered period of life that is my 20s - at least I can sleep soundly knowing one thing for sure: who I am.
Earlier today, I was having a conversation with a friend, and we got on the topic of people living insincere lives. By this, I mean those who live their lives in pursuit of external validation and approval. It doesn't matter what they actually like or how they feel about things - what matters is what others (their group of friends...society?) think. I think social media has made this phenomenon worse. What if I post a photo on Instagram and only a few people like it? (The world ends, DUH.) Opportunities for external validation (or a lack thereof) have woven their way into every waking moment of our lives, even when they're unsolicited.
My point (and how the first two paragraphs tie together) - is that I don't give a shit what other people think. I might not know much about the world as a whole, but I know myself - I know what I like, and I know how I feel about things. I'm not about to let others' differing likes and feelings change mine.
All of my instagram photos, tweets, even this blog, are for ME. If you like them too, good for you, but I'm not about the let the fear of no 'likes' or comments prevent me from expressing myself in whatever way I feel is appropriate.
I can't be dishonest with myself or others. Sometime my truth-seeking ways get me down (the truth ain't always pretty), but I'd rather be hurt by the truth than live a lie. And while I navigate through this un-chartered period of life that is my 20s - at least I can sleep soundly knowing one thing for sure: who I am.
January 7, 2013
Shaken (not stirred)
Yesterday afternoon, my roommate invited me to a happy hour with a group of her friends. I usually don't accept her social invitations, but after a weekend of sitting around doing nothing, I think I needed a drink. So I accepted.
The happy hour turned out to be nice. My roommate, who is quite generous with her money (but that's another story), treated everyone to margaritas and snacks. The restaurant was pretty low key and her co-ed group of friends made pleasant conversation (side note: I think I need more female friends. Though I tend to identify with the male mindset, it's also nice to socialize with people of the same gender).
My roommate had driven the two of us to happy hour, and upon our arrival home I noticed that my car lights were on. I never leave my car lights on. When I approached my car to turn off the lights, I noticed that both the front and back passenger door were cracked open. Then I noticed that my glove box was open, and things were strewn all over the seat. My parking structure is pretty secure, so the thief would have had to sneak in while the garage door was open - OR - it might have been someone already in the building (my roommate suspects it's the creepy friend of the crazy girl on the third floor who drives a car filled with so much stuff I suspects he lives in there, and a missing window patched with plastic wrap). Also: since no windows were broken, my car must have been unlocked. I NEVER leave my car unlocked, so I suspect my roommate may have forgotten to lock it after switching our cars in the tandem parking spot. Oy,
The idiot theif (thieves?) didn't actually steal much. Just cash, a pair of sunglasses (that cost $4 at the swap meet, bitches), and the lantern I bought when I had no electricity in my old apartment. What they didn't steal: my CDs (I was kind of hoping they'd rid me of the mix tapes from my ex), my phone charger, my parking garage clicker, and my Sony badge. Thank GOD.
Even so, I'm shaken. I tend to have a "these things don't happen to me" attitude (don't we all?), but now this thing did happen to me. It makes me question how safe I really am, even in building that is technically secure. But also, I'm trying to remind myself that events like this are arbitrary, so there's no point getting overly paranoid. And, as far as silver linings go, filing my first police report made me feel like a badass.
The happy hour turned out to be nice. My roommate, who is quite generous with her money (but that's another story), treated everyone to margaritas and snacks. The restaurant was pretty low key and her co-ed group of friends made pleasant conversation (side note: I think I need more female friends. Though I tend to identify with the male mindset, it's also nice to socialize with people of the same gender).
My roommate had driven the two of us to happy hour, and upon our arrival home I noticed that my car lights were on. I never leave my car lights on. When I approached my car to turn off the lights, I noticed that both the front and back passenger door were cracked open. Then I noticed that my glove box was open, and things were strewn all over the seat. My parking structure is pretty secure, so the thief would have had to sneak in while the garage door was open - OR - it might have been someone already in the building (my roommate suspects it's the creepy friend of the crazy girl on the third floor who drives a car filled with so much stuff I suspects he lives in there, and a missing window patched with plastic wrap). Also: since no windows were broken, my car must have been unlocked. I NEVER leave my car unlocked, so I suspect my roommate may have forgotten to lock it after switching our cars in the tandem parking spot. Oy,
The idiot theif (thieves?) didn't actually steal much. Just cash, a pair of sunglasses (that cost $4 at the swap meet, bitches), and the lantern I bought when I had no electricity in my old apartment. What they didn't steal: my CDs (I was kind of hoping they'd rid me of the mix tapes from my ex), my phone charger, my parking garage clicker, and my Sony badge. Thank GOD.
Even so, I'm shaken. I tend to have a "these things don't happen to me" attitude (don't we all?), but now this thing did happen to me. It makes me question how safe I really am, even in building that is technically secure. But also, I'm trying to remind myself that events like this are arbitrary, so there's no point getting overly paranoid. And, as far as silver linings go, filing my first police report made me feel like a badass.
January 6, 2013
Enough about the past
After careful consideration, I don't think a 2012 'Year In Review' post will happen. I can't think of anything eloquent to say about 2012 other than...it happened.
So, on to the future. Today, I got a text from my sister: 'do you want a 5 year journal?'
'No, that seems too daunting. I'd never be able to fill it,' I responded.
But then she sent me the link for this book, and I changed my mind. It's structured like a calendar, and asks a different question each day of the year (pro: it takes the pressure off having to think of a topic). When a new year begins, you go back to the beginning and answer the same questions for a second (and third, and forth, and fifth) time.
What I like about this journal, is that it will be a good tracker of any changes that take place between now and....age 29 (yikes). Hopefully for the better.
So, on to the future. Today, I got a text from my sister: 'do you want a 5 year journal?'
'No, that seems too daunting. I'd never be able to fill it,' I responded.
But then she sent me the link for this book, and I changed my mind. It's structured like a calendar, and asks a different question each day of the year (pro: it takes the pressure off having to think of a topic). When a new year begins, you go back to the beginning and answer the same questions for a second (and third, and forth, and fifth) time.
What I like about this journal, is that it will be a good tracker of any changes that take place between now and....age 29 (yikes). Hopefully for the better.
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