Archive Page 2


A few quick things. Probably no real post today.

I started this blog on Blogger. I can’t even remember what happened that made Blogger impossible, new interface or something? So I switched over here to wordpress in…2006, maybe. Luckily there was a way to import all my archives; but there was no way to import comments–or if there were, I had no idea how to do it. I just wanted to mention this so you all didn’t think I spent 3 years talking to myself, if you happened to be wandering through the archives.

I thought of this because I have been wandering through my archives. And wow, sometimes I wonder who I was then. The selfishness or self-righteousness that poured out onto the page sometimes was astounding. I truly think that my 30s have been when I’ve really done most of my growing up…growing into myself. So again, if you happen upon an older post of mine and you shake your head…please give me the benefit of the six plus years that have gone by since then.

That is all.


Catching Up

Until recently, my last post on this blog was early in 2007. Back then, I had a pretty good following, and blogging was maybe a bigger thing than it is now. I enjoyed it as an outlet for writing without the pressure of actually trying to be skillful at it. No plot, no rising action, no climax, no denoument. Oddly enough, the more people that followed and commented, the less I wanted to write. I felt this huge pressure to write something every day and to be witty, funny, and/or insightful with every post.

That year, 2007, also brought a huge change into my life. But the things it changed for me, while mostly good, were not something that I wanted to blog about.* I had always been really open and honest on my blog, and having a huge chunk of my life that I didn’t feel comfortable sharing (not even with some of my family and friends) made it hard to sit and write a post. Too many things to skirt around, too many names to change.

My life is so different now that 20 years could have passed instead of six. I’m not going to go over those six years for you in detail, but know that I did a lot of growing up, a lot of learning what my limits are, and, thankfully, was very loved and loved hard back…like I always have.

Now I live in an amazing house that I share with my brother, who for the last 27 years has lived in Austin, TX but moved up here to Pennsylvania in April. He was 16 when I was born and left home at 18, so it’s pretty fair to say that we never lived together. We’re learning now, as adults, how to be siblings and housemates. And I’d say we are navigating that territory fairly well so far. I have a dog now, which is something that I have wanted all my life. I’m still working at the same place (since 2003) but I briefly stopped being an editor, became a project manager, and now I’m the editor again.

I’m not going to commit myself to posting daily here, because I think that I would just feel overwhelmed, but I do want to post again. I think the next few posts I’ll cover a few things from the past, and then we’ll move forward together. All…3 of you…and me.

*Just FYI–no I didn’t get married, get divorced, get pregnant, or have a baby.

Life and the Internet.

I got my very first email address my freshman year in college. Two, in fact. One was my official college email, the other was a hotmail address which might even still exist. I think now I have, maybe 8 email addresses. Then there was the “Talker” phase. I was a spod, and double points if you know what that means. I’m on Twitter… a lot. I use Facebook. I’m on Tumblr (as a follower, I don’t post anything.) I can’t even tell you how many various things I’ve signed up for and stuck with or abandoned as time went on.

Through all that I’ve made, and stayed in touch with some awesome people. I haven’t had any of the horrible internet experiences they warn about. That’s not to say I haven’t been reckless at times, just that I guess I’ve been lucky.

I have dated people I met online, not on a dating site. One for four years of every 6 month visits. For my 30th birthday, I took a trip to England by myself, but for most of it I was not truly alone because at each stop I got to meet with people I had talked to for years but most of whom I hadn’t met until I stepped off the train. That trip (in my Dec 2006 archives) remains one of the best things I have ever done for myself.

I met one of my best friends currently on an amazing online community because we figured out that we both lived close and liked to knit.

So there are people out there, all over America, and all over the world that I would look straight at you and call my “friends,” and mean it with all my heart.

The part that has been getting me lately, as I get older, is that there is a chance that some of those people, I might never meet.  Or, what is an even worse feeling for me, I may have met them and will never see them again. That, right there, is crazy. I am a small part of their daily lives. I think of them in passing, as they do me. Maybe I haven’t talked to them in years but when they watch a certain movie or hear a quote, they think of me for a second.

I”m not sure what the point of this post is. It’s just something that I bat around in my head sometimes. I want to buy an island and invite all my friends to come and live on it with me. Any takers?

The Loneliest Number?

My running, aside from in a 5K, has been mainly a solitary activity.  I know not everyone runs that way: running groups, running partners, races, internet forums–running can be very social.  But, for me, the moment other feet hit the pavement around me, the comparisons start. He’s  faster, she’s not as sweaty, they’re breathing more easily. Her form is better, his shoes are nicer, their bodies are less lumpy. They’re real runners. I’m not.

I”ve been asked to run with a dear friend who has completed a few marathons. I’ve been asked to run with a bunch of high school friends who have a lovely, supportive running group. My answer has been the same. No, thanks, I’d hold you back. I can’t keep up. I’d slow you down. (Thinking: You’d find out I shouldn’t even be using the term “runner” to apply to myself.)

When I run alone, I’m free from the comparisons. When I run by myself I feel powerful, strong, accomplished. I put on my gear, pop in my earbuds, start up my tracking app, and go.  And for the next 40 or so minutes the conversation in my brain is positive. I can do this; I can keep going. That’s a little sore, but I’m fine. I can make it. Yes, I worry about pace and improving. But only in line with how I did on my last run. When I ran a 5K under 43 minutes, alone, it seemed like a huge accomplishment. It WAS a huge accomplishment for me. But when I ran a 5K in 40 minutes, and placed 600-something out of a thousand something, it was hard to keep that accomplishment in perspective.

It’s a shame really, because the running community has always been nothing but supportive. During my first 5K last year, when I had strep throat and a bronchial infection, but didn’t know it it yet, two women, who were total strangers to me, ran back on the course to find me (dead last) and run me in, encouraging me all the way. Last weekend, at my first 5K since I began re-training a few months ago, a whole line of runners who had completed their race cheered me along to the finish line “Push it through!” “You’re doing great!” “Almost there!” And they gave me that extra something I needed to sprint to the finish line for my best time ever. The running community is awesome.

Maybe someday I’ll feel legitimate enough to consider myself a part of it.  For now, I’ll listen to my music, encourage myself, plan my day’s to-do list, ponder what to wear tomorrow, and keep running…alone.


I tried it there, I tried it here. I think the whole point is that I’m done with it. I really don’t want to lose touch with the friends I’ve made through and around blogging, but I’m obviously not making an effort to post. And when I do post it’s too much of an effort. So while I’m not going to delete this, I’m probably not going to be adding to it either. Consider this an indefinite sabbatical. And guys…Sally, Becky, Wes, Sarah, bella, etc. Email me sometimes!

Budget? What is this, Budget?

I knew when I decided to move into my own apartment that it was going to require a little tightening of the old budget belt. Or rather, I needed to acquire a budget belt and then proceed to tighten it. My budgeting normally goes something like this:

“I want that.” *check balance of checking account online*

“Sweet there’s still money in there.”

*check how long til payday*

*buy it anyway*

So those days are no more, I should think. I could end up in a Dickensian Debtors Prison–although that would involve punishment and some sort of time travel, but you just never know, would you risk it? On the advice of a friend I purchased (oh the irony in having to make a purchase in order to make sure you don’t spend too much money) this. It’s lovely, and I have to resist the urge to spend money just to get to enter it on my register and watch it magically subtract from my budgeted amount for that category.

But in the “one step forward and two steps back” that is my life, when I went to sign the lease I had a bit of a surprise. I’m going to assume it was simply a miscommunication, or me not understanding how things worked, but I was under the impression that I was to give the landlady a security deposit equal to one month of rent on the day I signed the lease and then follow that up with 1st months rent on the first. Duly budgeted–after some shuffling, nail-biting, and stealing from my savings.

Turns out she wanted security that day and then first AND last’s months rent on the 1st. Now, I’m a lowly editor, and just the rent takes quite a chunk out of one paycheck, leaving the other paycheck to cover mostly everything else for that month. So you see my dilemma here. 2 months at 2X the rent? No budgeting software in the world is going to fix that.

So you know how people tell you that if you’re doing things right you will neither owe anything, nor receive a refund from the IRS come tax time? If not, the wise people say, you’re just giving the government your money and letting them use it for a year before they have to give it back to you. Well, my stubborn insistence on getting that little token from the IRS has just saved my newly housed arse. So there, wise people.

That’s just plain crazy

Last night I was watching a rerun of CSI: Miami. You know, the one where the redheaded guy takes on and off his sunglasses poignantly and the long haired blonde girl mumbles everything she says. Yeah, that’s the one.

Anyway, the episode involved a woman who blogged while at work (who would do such a thing?) using a virtual keyboard projected with lasers (um, OK) which then transmitted to her PDA. As they were uncoding her scheme they mentioned that a lot of bloggers will leave secret messages within their posts by leaving a font the same color as the backround. And blog readers, savvy creatures that they are, know to highlight the text so they can read it.

The meeting to plan for world domination takes place tonight at my house. 6 p.m. BYOB

I just want to say how ridiculous I thought this whole plot was. It must have been written when they thought bloggers were going to take over the world.


A blog about my life and other stuff.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Romania.

Dorothy Parker, Not So Deep as a Well (1937)