I might be back?

So it's been almost a year. Apologies if my writing is a bit rusty/nonsensical.
I had every intention to abandon this blog. I can't quite remember why, but isn't that usually the case?

A lot has changed in the last year (I got a new job and moved to a different neighborhood, etc.), but also, a lot has stayed the same (I'm still me, for better or for worse). Even though both of these changes were healthy and necessary, I'm still piecing together this new phase of life and figuring out where I fit in. Hence the cyclical rut. Hence this post. Sigh.


So why didn't I delete the blog? For one, so much of my history is here. Some posts are silly, some posts are dark (or maybe only I can identify the darkest ones, because I lived them), but all of them meant something to me at the time. I thought I'd be fine without out an outlet to express myself, but venting to real people just isn't the same as writing things down.

So, hi. I've missed you.

The Internet Isn't A Doctor

For the record, I have an objectively hearty appetite.  I can eat a lot in one setting.  I eat pretty often, because I get cranky when I'm hungry.

This week, I noticed that my appetite has been off.  I had a recurring stomachache for two-ish days (though only in the morning and at night). Yesterday, I wasn't really hungry for breakfast, but ate it anyway.  About an hour later, en route to a work appointment, I had a cup of green tea, and felt like I was going to throw up for about 15 minutes (I didn't). At night, I attempted to eat dinner, but my stomach quickly informed me that it was closed for the evening.

This morning, I woke up, still not hungry.  I did laundry and chores for about an hour, hoping to work up an appetite.  It didn't happen, but I ate breakfast anyway, because I felt like I should.  Fast-forward to 4 pm: I hadn't eaten in 7 hours and STILL wasn't hungry.  Again, I ate a small snack, because I felt like I should. Then I hit the internet...

According various Web-MD equivalents, I am either anorexic, or have a slew of maladies that range from kidney failure to cancer. Thanks, Internet.

First off, I think most anorexics are very hungry and intentionally starving themselves.  The medical internet community thinks anorexic people just don't feel like eating (I'm going to wager that a man wrote that article).

Second, before I waste any more time worrying, can temporary stomach ache/loss of appetite be caused by something as simple as stress or sleep deprivation?

2013

After a quick glance at last year's year-end recap, I've decided that 2013 was strikingly similar to 2012 (which surprised me, because 2011 was SO different).  Sure, I'm a year older, my hair is a little lighter, and I visited a few new places, but I feel weirdly...the same.

I'm not sure where I got the idea that each year would be astronomically different from the previous year.  In reality, I think I'm in translation. I've evolved out of my college self, but I'm not an actual adult.  Who knows how many years I'll stay here before the next phase.

So here's to 2014, which will hopefully bring some sort of meaningful change.

Ba'scuse Me?

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.

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?)

Los Angeles, summarized in three words.

Nobody. Can. Drive.

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.

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.

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.

A Birthday Poem/Dilmena

Happy Birthday to me!
The older I get
The younger I want to be

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.

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.

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.

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,

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.

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.

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.

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.
 

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.

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.