I Am FAT!

OMG!

There is no denying it. I am officially fat.

I have been in denial for quite some time now. I always blamed it on the camera angle, or the fact that the camera adds 10 pounds. Or the fact that I have always photographed horribly.

But I can't deny it any longer.

I am FAT!

I can't deny it because I can FEEL it, dammit!

A couple of weeks ago I was at a birthday party. There was dancing and while for most of the night I refrained from dancing at one point the DJ played "I will survive." A song I love. A song I almost always dance to. My cousin's girlfriend was there -- a wisp of a girl and she skipped out onto the dance floor. My other cousin and I followed.

I anticipated having fun....but as I started to bounce and sway to the music I felt as if I were in a body that was not at all mine.

Yes, it had been that long since I danced. But as I did my best to hold my own, dancing to the rhythm of the song, I felt as if I were in a body that was not mine. OMG! how I hope no one caught it on video! I felt clumsy and awkward. I felt out of tune, out of rhythm and like a fish flopping on dry land.

Ten years ago, I could have given my cousin's 20-something girlfriend a run for her money -- even though I was much older than her. Now, I felt like Shamu, a tired, beached Shamu, trying fruitlessly to show my power and my grace.

I made it through the dance and was 'oh so grateful' when the DJ then decided to play an old, slow-dancing song.

A chance for this overweight single gal to go back to her seat, catch her breath and take a few sips of her vodka and tonic.

But as I left that evening, I resolved to make a change. I had to lose the weight. I had to get back in shape. Because I wasn't happy as I am. The realization hit me. I didn't want to be the happy, fat, single girl.

I miss my old body (never thought I'd be saying that). But when I look at old pics of myself, at times when I thought I was fat, I realize now, how fabulous I really looked!

I want that girl back. Granted, I wouldn't want to exchange the experiences -- I want the 'old girl' back with my current wisdom and knowledge, but with the old girl's body and drive.

And I realize I can actually, now, have that, albeit with some work.

My God!!! In my 20's, when I didn't need to, I went to the gym 4 or 5 times a week; I did a skincare regimen, I took care of myself. Now, nada!

Not sure how or why all that fell by the wayside. But, no matter ...... this one night, where I got up to dance and felt like I was in someone else's body...it made me realize.... on some level I am NOT being true to myself. And, most importantly, even tho I didn't realize it until now...I am paying the price in a variety of ways -- my health, my self-esteem, my potential.

No more.

From here on in I am officially turning over a new leaf -- and going back to that high-maintenance girl I used to be.

Longing To Be Held

I woke up this morning from a dream in which I was being held in an unknown and faceless lover's arms.

It was so vivid that it actually felt real, and even though as I woke, I knew I would be alone, a part of me half-expected to be with someone.

Who that someone would be is anybody's guess. I haven't even had a date in over a year, let alone someone in my bed. But the feeling was nice and got me to longing in a way I haven't for quite some time.

See, I'm one of those girls who are totally okay with being single and alone. I'm blessed with a close, tight-knit, albeit perpetually frustrating family; a job I love and that fulfills me; and great friends who comprise the foundation of my social life who I do a wide variety of things with -- from book clubs to happy hours to concerts and lectures and movies.

I'm also very picky when it comes to being interested in a man, and I'll admit, there is a part of me that I guess is a relationship-phobe. My current life is comfortable, happy, predictable, simple and I like it. Relationships on the other hand, can be complex, gut-wrenching and infuriatingly frustrating at times.

So even when I do find myself missing a man's presence, and let's be honest, the sex -- it usually passes, sometimes via a few cocktails and commiserating phone call with a friend in similar circumstances, or I get through it myself.

This morning was different. After awakening, I wanted to immediately plunge myself back into a deeper sleep, so I could enjoy being held a few minutes more.

That wasn't happening. I spent an additional 10 or 15 minutes lazily lounging in bed, arms wrapped around my pillow, letting myself slowly wake up and daydreaming about several past boyfriends and lovers and the ways they had held me -- in bed, lounging on a couch, while hugging.

Sad? Maybe. Would I have prefered a pair of real, male arms at that moment? Definitely.

But I'm a realist. Wasn't gonna happen, and allowing myself to wallow and get depressed would only ruin a gorgeous spring day, which so far, I am thoroughly enjoying. So I lolly-gagged in bed awhile, then got up and did my normal Sunday routine -- pot of coffee, the paper, big breakfast.

Yet, even as I sit here blogging, a month after starting my clean slate here and my broken vow to blog much more frequently, I'm still thinking about waking up hours ago, feeling as though I was being held, and the fact that during that dream, I was soooo loving it!

Perhaps it's a feeling of long and deeply buried loss finally making it to the forefront of my mind; maybe it was the final scene in a movie I had watched the night before; or maybe a premonition of things to come?

Or, more realistically, maybe it's my subconcious telling me that I'm finally at a point in my life where I'm ready to accept a relationship, a commitment; at a point where I'd actually get more enjoyment from one, than fear or upset.....

Starting Over

Can't believe five years have passed since I started this blog. Can't believe I was so bad at the blogging!

But now, my desire to write on a regular basis is renewed and so, I'm starting over again. Hoping that this time, I'll stick with it, because, see, writing full-time is what I really want to be doing with my life.

Years ago, I had worked in newspapers as a reporter. Eventually, though, I got tired of the late nite shifts, low paycheck and the management changes taking place where I worked, so I jumped ship and took a 9 to 5 job with a non-profit that actually did pay more and allowed me to use a variety of my skills -- writing, love of outdoors, and public speaking skills.

Now, I want to write that book -- not just start books, or write a couple chapters or outline characters that I hope to one day include in a novel -- seriously write something worthwhile, shop it around and have it published.

So, I'm starting with this blog. I'm encouraged by the women recently who followed their passions, started with a blog, and realized big-time dreams and success. I'm talking about Julie Powell, Stephanie Klein, Jen Lancaster.

While I totally do not consider myself in their league -- they have proven that all you have to do is start something and stick with it, doing it for yourself first. And hopefully, if you keep at it, success will follow, along with being able to live your ultimate dream, not just keep dreaming about it.

Of course, I don't have their courage; I will remain anonymous.

For me, that is the only way I can truly write honestly and without inhibition. While I'm not one who particularly cares what others think of me, I do care about those closest to me, and wouldn't want to cause them any undue hurt or embarrassment or harm.

I also fear that if I were to reveal myself either by name or with a photo, I would find myself editing what I wrote, which would defeat the purpose of my newfound need to blog.

So, from here on out -- I'm starting over --and will be blogging regularly on just what my blog promises -- random musings, observations, feelings, the trials and tribulations of a single, 40-something.

If anyone out there is reading, I hope you enjoy.

Guy Vs. Man

I met him in a bar during a Friday night happy hour.

My friend and I had gone there after work to unwind after a long work week, and it was not a place we regularly frequented. It was sheer chance that we happened to be there that night.

The first thing I noticed about him was his shirt. A very bright, white high-quality number that looked at first like silk. The second thing I noticed was the accent, as I overheard him talking to his friend.

I was intrigued. So much so, that I did something I was long out of the habit of doing -- flirting. I had been commiserating with friends for some time that I had seemed to lost the art. I had been very good at it in college and my early 20s, but somewhere along the line of time, it had gone away, and I don't really know how or why.

I said hello and proceeded to make cute comments about things going on around us, in between ordering drinks and talking with my friend.

To my surprise, he responded, and I became more interested. I liked everything I saw -- the clothes, his mannerisms, the accent, his cologne. To my surprise, as he was getting ready to leave, he wrote his number on a piece of paper and gave it to me -- but made it seem like a networking move, telling me if I ever needed his professional services, to give him a call.

I reciprocated by handing him my card and saying that he should call me if he ever required any marketing work.

But then, right before he left, he shook my hand, said it was nice meeting me and leaned in close, looked right into my eyes, and said, "really, call me."

I said I would, but wasn't sure if I meant it or not.

After he left, we discussed what had happened. At work, the following Monday, I discussed what had happened with co-workers, who all agreed I should call him.

I opted to wait. He had my card. He could just as easily call me. I finally decided to give him until Wednesday to call and if he didn't, then I would call him.

He called me Wednesday morning at work. We made dinner plans for the next night.

I was smitten.

What entailed was a four-week fling. The physical chemistry and attraction was amazing! And part of that was due to one factor: he was a MAN; as opposed to a guy.

What's the difference? some asked.

It's a subtle, yet very defining difference. And most women know what I'm talking about.

Man -- George Clooney, Daniel Day-Lewis, Richard Gere.

Guy -- Matt Damon, Michael J. Fox, Ryan Seacrest.

It's an attitude, the way one carries himself, their persona.

The fling is over. In addition to being a man he was also a player. And in the end, I needed more than just the physical attraction and chemistry. I needed shared interests, titillating conversation and the knowledge that "he got me" -- all of which was lacking.

I don't regret it though. Although, the experience has made me wonder -- am I better suited to a man? or to a guy?

And, in looking into a reverse mirror, am I a girl or a woman?

I'm A Bad, Bad Blogger

Okay, I admit it. I'm a horrible blogger. I post sporadically, infrequently and on such a wide range of train-of-thought topics, I refuse to even tell people I have a blog or give them my handle.

Since I don't write regularly and often use it as a place to rant or vent or just ponder boring, meandering thoughts that enter my head, I figure it's best that it live in obscurity.

Despite my occasional vows to write more, I rarely keep them.

Thankfully, nowadays it's because I'm busy, both with work as well as with social outings with friends and colleagues, and not simply due to exhaustion, lack of time and stress due to a negative and oppressing job situation, as my last absence was due to.

So now, after a relaxing and very lacksadaisical day off -- yes, I completed all of my holiday shopping and can rest easy now -- I'm craving pizza, and trying my best to fight that craving by trying to think of something else I can make that a) would not require me leaving the house (its 15 degrees out), and b) would be a much healthier option than a cheesy, greasy pizza. Also, I'm meeting friends on Friday for pizza and so it wouldn't make much sense to go have one now, would it?

Despite all these rationalizations, I think the pizza is winning, as every time I think of going into the kitchen to make something -- a salad, pasta, etc., I don't. Rather, I find myself looking up the numbers of local pizza places on yahoo.

This despite having eaten half a bag of baby carrots dipped in very healthy, garlic hummus. I would've been better off not eating anything at all!

Maybe if I can put off ordering a pizza for another half hour or so, I can rationalize that its too late to be ordering pizza and going to pick it up and so I will make something else and actually be happy with that.

Okay, so my first blog in several months, somehow became one about me craving pizza.

Great re-start, eh?

A Little R & R

While physically, there is no doubt I am my parents' daughter -- personality-wise, we are worlds apart.

My parents are doers -- in the sense of, they ALWAYS have to be DOING something. Spending an hour or two reading several newspapers, or parking on the porch for hours with a good book, or even spending a rainy Saturday afternoon watching movies -- well, in their minds, you're not really doing anything at all.

I swear, relaxing for my mother is canning vegetables or baking homemade bread the old-fashioned way -- no bread machine in her house! Or, washing and ironing and rehanging drapes.

In a few hours, they get more chores done than I do over an entire weekend! And it sometimes makes me feel lazy. On any given saturday, they're up at 6 and by the time I'm having breakfast, around 10 or so -- she's cleaned the house, done laundry and is invariably cooking something.

Dad has paid the bills, run errands, washed the car and either mowed part of the lawn or trimmed the hedges, etc.

Me, I've woken up and maybe gotten through half of the newspaper and am on my third cup of coffee.

I'm not exactly sure when I got this way. When I first moved out, I kept the habits I had learned in their house. I was up relatively early on weekend mornings. By noon, my apartment was cleaned, laundry was drying and I was on my way out the door to run errands. Somewhere along the way, I gradually switched those industrious habits for more laid-back ones.

While still feeling some guilt, I have to say -- I enjoy taking my time with my morning coffee and perusing the papers. I love to read and over the past year or so, was so overburdened at work that I didn't have the time or the desire to read for pleasure. And I love catching those old flicks on Lifetime and TLC that I happen across on a lazy weekend afternoon. I mean really, what woman can not stop and at least watch part of a Meg Ryan movie marathon weekend, or the film version of a Nora Roberts novel??? Not this girl.

So, I try not to be too hard on myself when I let my laziness take over and instead, allow myself the guilty pleasures. Like today. I took yesterday and today off. Yesterday, I met an old friend for lunch, went to a local farmer's market, then met another friend for drinks and dinner.

Today, I slept in, enjoyed my morning coffee and paper, talked on the phone and spent some fun time on the computer.

I took these days off because I wanted to relax and unwind. And so far, that is exactly what I've done. So for me, definitely two days well spent.

A Long Time Coming

A year and 10 months ago, I stopped blogging. In fact, I stopped doing alot of things.

In the throes of a job that had promised so much and delivered so little, I found myself regularly working 10 and 12 hour days, putting time in on weekends and basically being so stressed and exhausted that I had little room for anything else.

Blogging, reading for pleasure, shopping, traveling -- it all went away, as I focued 98% of my energy on work and the office. When I did take the occasional day off, most times, it was due to illness -- sinus infections, migraine headaches, killer allergies, back or stomach problems.

I felt like a hamster on a wheel, unable to get off. A very tired, frustrated and sad hamster.

A year ago, I left that job and took another. Over the past year, the changes have been amazing! While I'm now working for less pay and prestige, there is less stress, less hours, less minor illnesses and alot more positives.

I moved to another city and am much happier than I was in the small, rural town I had been working in; I've reconnected with old friends, made several new ones and have a social life again. I took my first real vacation in 7 years -- I not only left town, I left the country!

And at least once a week, when either leaving my office, or on my way to lunch with co-workers, I find myself smiling, unbelieving of how much happier I now am and how truly miserable I had been just over a year ago!

I also have more time for socializing, reading, shopping, exercising, and now, have decided to come back to blogging.

Yesterday, I hit a landmark -- my 40th birthday. While physically and even mentally, I really don't feel any different, I have noticed a change in my mindset.

Part of me wonders if, on a professional level, I'm settling. Taking the easy way out, simply because my prior executive-level positions were very demanding, stressful and downright brutal in the politics, powerplays and behind-the-scenes ego trips and personal agendas of those in higher positions.

Should I have stuck it out, worked and fought harder, until either things got better or I found a similar position with better working conditions? Did I cop out? Am I selling myself short?

The new job, while in a city, at a much bigger company, and still somewhat managerial, did include a significant paycut, and a much lesser title. (Although that was more than balanced out by increased vacation time, better benefits and a friendlier, more progressive work environment.)

I am now mulling things over in my mind. If I'm to make another run at the executive brass ring, I'll need to do so within the next couple of years. That will mean yet another change. And that makes me think -- do I want to be the type of person whose main focus and identity is their job? And what will I really have to show for it, in the end?

Right now, I'm loving my life -- something I haven't been able to say for several years now. I work in an office where we all get along, there is a total team atmosphere and it is devoid of the types of politics and game-playing I had to deal with before. I not only have fun after work, I have fun AT work. And I love all the aspects of my job.

I'm happier, healthier, more relaxed. And there is a part of me that has started realizing I think I prefer being a mid-level cog in the wheel, rather than being the wheel, or the one turning the wheel. That perhaps, even though I know I have the smarts for the top position, I don't necessarily have the stomach for it -- and I can be much more effective slightly lower down the food chain.

That thought scares me in a way, because I always took so much pride in being the independent, strong, career-woman. And now, I'm hanging up that hat, preferring the worker bee cap more.

Part of me wants to fight that urge -- to forego happiness and contentment -- in order to rise to the top again. However, I already know from my past experiences, that for me, it was unhappy and lonely, and bittersweet.

So, at the ripe young age of 40, I think I've finally figured out what I want to do with the rest of my life. And the vision has started to become a bit clearer -- I no longer need the title or the big paycheck to find fulfillment. I'm coming to the realization that I'd rather have a more balanced, well-rounded life -- one that allows me the time and focus to participate and enjoy other things.

Next month, I kick-start a new diet and will be taking ballroom-dancing lessons; I"m joining a gym; getting involved in my alumni group, and planning my next vacation -- right now, two very viable choices are Vegas and Spain.

A little over a year ago -- I wouldn't have been able to plan or participate in any of those things. I was living day to day, planning things around my excessive work schedule and sacrificing everything else for the job. And still not succeeding in the way I wanted to be.

Now, I am very fulfilled at work on all levels; and have found more personal fulfillment and personal happiness.

So, I guess maybe I was wrong. I have become different since turning 40!

Simple pleasures

This weekend I got new sheets, a pricey body cream, a fabulous manicure, and a killer bottle of red wine.

Its the simple pleasures sometimes that bring us the most joy.

I've been stressed lately. REALLY STRESSED!

A new job with sets of changes and rules and extenuating circumstances I never could have imagined. A house that was sold, and then, just as suddenly, back on the market and then, thank God, sold again this weekend when I received an acceptable offer and took it. And the financial stressors that come with having a mortgage and monthly rent and a car payment and all the other costs of living all combined into one big money-sucking vacuum.

I debated the sheets and the body cream, and thought twice about the manicure. But, I reasoned, the sheets were a necessity, and the manicure was too, as my nails were looking pretty ratty; the wine was a gift. And the body cream, well, that was sheer retail therapy.

But having treated myself, and not spent an outrageous amount (the wine was actually a gift), I felt a bit better. Not MUCH better. But a bit better.

And it lasted longer than just a few minutes. I just turned the covers down on my bed and caught myself smiling because of the new sheets.

The nails are looking fabulous and with a week of meetings and business lunches and dinners ahead, it was money well spent.

The guilty pleasure of the body cream will pay for itself tomorrow nite when I know I'll come home late, (even though I'm going in for 7 a.m.), take a hot shower and then slather it on before cocooning myself in my flannel PJ's, lighting a candle, and curling up with a good book.

There are so many things I would like to change about some of the things in my life right now. But I honestly can't . I just have to settle for working through them, hoping and planning for the best possible outcome, and living with the end results.

In the meantime, though, I can take refuge in some of the simple things -- like new sheets, flannel pajamas, and rich, creamy, scented body cream. And a glass of that really good red zinfandel. It may not sound like much, but its comfort and in a strange way, helps me escape the insane roller coaster that has been my life lately.

Season of Change

Looking at the calendar today, I'm finding it hard to believe that September is almost over.

Maybe its because I love this time of year -- crisp, clear mornings, chilly, blanket-hugging nights, the required wardrobe changeover -- that I dread the passing of each day because I know it means it'll all soon (too soon) come to an end.

Fall has always been a time of renewal for me. Moreso than New Years and its peer pressure-induced New Year's resolutions.

I find myself wanting to be more active once the heat of summer has receded. I eat healthier because its a time of year when I actually like to cook, preferring to have the house gradually warm up after I get home from work from my bustling about the kitchen and the stove going full force with pots on top and something baking within. I spend more time outdoors oohing and aahing at the changing leaves and I find myself walking more. For some reason, I just feel better.

And I even look forward to those first cold nites or really chilly and crisp mornings that require turning on the heat. Hearing the furnace cranking after its long summer rest, and feeling the rush of warm air coming through the vents, is, in some bizarre way, comforting.

All this usually means I'm at my most productive and feeling my best, both in body and mind. I find myself organizing things more and purging my house and office and storage areas of things I no longer want or need. I think perhaps that "back to school" mode is something I never really outgrew.

And fall has always been a season of change for me. I tend to make my resolutions now, rather than in January. I almost always renew a long-expired gym membership or join another fitness club or group this time of year. Going back over my resume, I've started most new jobs in October (no reason why), and its when I tend to reinvent myself -- trying a totally different hairstyle or color, or completely revamping my wardrobe.

This fall is no different. My cooking inclinations are in full drive -- I've cooked more this past week than I have over the past 2 months combined. I've vowed to quit junk food cold turkey and had salad for lunch 4 times this week. I have 3 garbage bags full of clothes that I've determined are no longer 'me' and am taking them to Goodwill. I'm growing my hair.

AND, as has happened several times over the past 12 years or so -- I'm taking my life in a whole new direction. Not a new job. I did that in the spring. But in a few short weeks, I'll be leaving this house I've called home for the past 2 years, a house it still kind of hurts to give up, to move closer to where I now work.

The 75-minute, one-way commute has been exhausting, and besides that, the job required that I move when I took it.

In only 3 weeks, I will close on the sale of my house, and move to a new town, and a new house. I'm excited and nervous, and okay, maybe a little scared. But something in my gut tells me this new place is where I need to be. That good things are going to happen there.

So, as I slowly start cleaning out closets and cupboards and pack up the things I'll be taking with me, I do so in a bittersweet, yet anticipatory way.

The only thing I can compare it to is when I left home to go to college -- scared and anxious, yet chomping at the bit, at the same time.

That worked out very well -- I LOVED my college years -- and so now, with that experience behind me, I'm going with my gut and diving in to this new life adventure. And I truly can't wait to see what the future holds!

That's Just Life

Hard to believe its been just a little over two months since starting the new job. It feels like I've been doing it forever and like my first week, all at the same time.

Some things are decidedly different. Unlike the old place, the new support staff is extremely confident, self-thinking and self-starting, making the transition much easier than I had anticipated. Instead of having to give detailed instructions like before, I find I start to tell them to do something only to find out they've already taken care of it.

What a relief!

Not to say it hasn't been without problems or challenges -- because it has, but overall, so much better. This past week, I vented to more than a couple close friends about organization politics, a particular officemate I find it hard to trust because she had applied for the job I ended up getting, and just trying to keep things running smoothly both in the career arena and the personal one.

"Why can't anything I ever do just be easy?" I whined to at least two girlfriends. "Why is it, whenever I do something, it is always so hard and so complicated? Just once, just once," I whimpered, "why can't something go off without a hitch?"

I was feeling very self-pitying until S finally said, "ya know, its not that unique, that's just life. That kind of shit happens to everybody all the time, not just you. And hey, it could always be worse -- you could have cancer or be homeless, so count your blessings."

At first, I was pissed. How dare she minimalize my problems. But then I realized, she was right.

I got a bit more understanding from L, who said maybe I was just being tested, and that in the end all the difficulties and complexities I seem to encounter would make me stronger and make my accomplishments that much more satisfying and rewarding.

I realized she was right too.

So now, I'm focusing on all the positives. And some of those positives are pretty cool.

I come home everyday exhausted -- but in a good way -- having put in a full day of mental gymnastics, administrative strategizing and learning more about a whole new field. Just a few short months ago, I was coming home exhausted from anger, stress and the frustration of feeling like I was going nowhere and the worse feeling of that no matter what I did, it wasn't right and wasn't going to make a difference to anyone.

My feet hurt -- every day; and that's actually a good thing. Because for the first time in years, I have to dress up for work every day, including wearing heels. I used to do the business casual thing with flats and sandals, wearing khakis and T-shirts most days in the office. No more. I look the part of the executive, and unlike some who say they work better in their jeans or jammies because they're so much more comfortable, I work better when I look the part. Just makes me feel more competent for some reason. So what if my toes look like jarred herrings for the first hour after I get home. I'M WEARING HIGH HEELS ALL THE TIME NOW!

I'm getting back to having 3 separate wardrobes again -- work, casual work for dress down Fridays and other days when I really don't have to dress the part, or wake up too late to take the time to dress the part (lol;) and my going out clothes. which have also gotten a revamping thanks to Stacy and Clinton from "What Not to Wear"

Lastly, I DON'T HATE MY JOB ANYMORE. Sure there are moments where I feel like I can't handle all the responsibility that I took on when I accepted it. Where personalities bug the hell outta me, or I get paranoid that I'm not going to meet expectations. But then I dig in, and make some progress, and get things done.

And lastly, I've realized my two main professional flaws -- disorganization and lax communications skills -- not all the time, but enough that I know I need to work on it. I forget that my co-workers don't realize I've finished something simply because I put it in my done pile, without letting them know. But these are fixable and it was actually today that I realized improvements in these two areas will go a long way in making my job easier in the long run.

Oh, that, and procrastination. I have to stop procrastinating no matter how much I'm convinced I work better under the extreme pressure of a looming deadline.

So, after my two-week pity party bemoaning some of the hurdles I've encountered here, I've realized (thanks in part to my friends) that these problems are not unique or career-ending or life ending. And most importantly, I realized they're fixable. Easily fixable.

Just like my lacksadaisical blogging. All I have to do, is do it!

With the blogging done and my other problems solved, its time to kick off the high heels, have some dinner and enjoy my evening. Which will be more enjoyable now that I've kind of rounded the corner on the first few hurdles of the new job and am on my way to finding my groove in this new chapter of my life.

Getting It Done

Exactly 8 days ago today, I walked out of my office for the last time, and it was the weirdest departure I've ever made from a job.

Those who know me well, know that I basically have hated this job from Day One. But that doesn't mean it still doesn't become a part of you, and that you don't care about the job you do, while you're doing it.

I'm one of those pathetic saps. I may hate the job, hate the higher ups, maybe even hate my officemates. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna be unprofessional. So I throw myself into the tasks at hand until their completed to my satisfaction, compartmentalizing all my other feelings of hatred, misery, contempt, et al.

And now, the new chapter.

I have two weeks off before I start the new position. A much needed break, and, I'm embarrassed to admit, I spent most of this week doing nothing. But while part of me feels guilty, another part of me is convinced I had been so stressed out the past few months, that once I left the job for good, my body heaved a huge sigh of relief, letting go of all the tension and strain that had kept me wound tight as a drum and therefore anxious and antsy and full of nervous energy most of the time. Without that, I can now mentally and physically relax.

So, today, I finally got my butt in gear to go buy some very large plastic storage containers so I can begin packing those things I don't really need. That way, when I sell the house and find a new apartment, I'll have a lot less to pack and the final move will go more smoothly.

The only thing, I hate packing and unpacking, most likely because I'm a horrible packrat and tend to accumulate a lot of stuff.

As I started pulling things from closets, picking out what to toss, what to keep, what to give away, I just could not focus my attention or energy at the task at hand.

It was just a little over a year ago that I moved into this house. And after that process, I swore I'd never move again. (Little did I know, huh?)

So now, faced with the task again, its even more overwhelming. Probably because I now have even more stuff.

I am amazed at what I have amassed over the year! What's even worse, as my hand moves to toss something into the throw away, or the give away pile, another part of me pulls back, and thinks perhaps I should hold onto it. Sheesh. Talk about counterproductive.

So I pack a bag, or get rid of some stuff, then make a phone call; then fill one box, and blog, and on and on.

In a little while I have to meet some friends for dinner. I was thinking I should cancel because I got such a late start today, but have decided since its seldom we get to see each other these days, I should keep the date. So I am. Maybe after dinner, I'll come home and my night owl tendencies will kick in and I'll work at packing more stuff for at least a couple of hours.

If not, my disciplinarian self is going to have make an appearance, forcing me out of bed early tomorrow so I can get some stuff done!

Only one more week of vacation to go, and then I'll be busy learning a new area, a new job, and trying to sell a house.

No rest for the weary I guess.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

If I actually wore berets, on Thursday afternoon I would have been standing in the middle of the street tossing mine playfully into the air ala Mary Tyler Moore.

Luckily for all passing traffic, I don't, but that was the kind of mood I was in on Thursday.

I accepted the job offer, and altho I only got a small part of my counter-offer, with each passing hour since I accepted, I've been overtaken by my gut feelings that it was the oh-so-right decision.

No regrets. Maybe just some bittersweet partings of the ways.

I'm really, really gonna miss this house. This old country house that really is a blank slate on the inside because its decor is so outdated, it needs some major renovations. I had been planning on starting that this spring, with new carpeting and paint downstairs, along with new drapes for the living room and parlor, and possibly, inside shutters for the kitchen windows.

There's one trip to Home Depot I won't be making. And one transformation I had been planning for months, but won't be part of.

But in a way, part of me is actually looking forward to going back to apartment living. While I absolutely adore this house, its been alot of work -- twice as many rooms to clean, a very large lawn to mow from April through October, as well as shoveling snow, re-graveling the driveway, etc.

Domestic life, at least, will be so much simpler.

And new people and places to discover. Its a change of pace I think I really did need for quite some time now. I love my friends, neighbors, some of my professional colleagues, but lately, it just hadn't been enough. No stimulation, no excitement. Part of me knew it, another part of me didn't want to admit it.

Sure I'll stay in touch, but it will be refreshing to develop a new circle of friends and colleagues.

Besides, there's no going back now. I've already gotten my acceptance letter and start date and turned in my resignation and told friends, family and professional colleagues I was going. And once I did, it was such a huge weight off of my shoulders.

Yes, things are going to be changing drastically for me in the coming months, but I truly believe, at this moment, that's its going to be a very, very good thing.

Decision-free

All I want, right now, at this moment, is one day where I don't have to make any decisions.

Where everything either goes smoothly, or someone else decides.

I'm tired, and cranky, and just off of a day where I was given a major, major life-altering decision, and I swear, I just can't handle one more person asking me another, mundane, 'what should I do, where should we go, type of question!

I work in a small office with two women who are both over 40 yet most of the time have the decision-making capabilities of my 10-year-old niece. Were I the type of boss who screamed and shouted if they made the slightest of errors or misjudgements, I could understand.

But I'm not. So I am literally flabbergasted when I get a question like, "look at these labels. do you think that font is okay?"

Or, my personal favorite, "come out here and look at the dumpster; its kind of full and I don't know whether or not I should throw any more stuff into it."

Then there's the friends. It happened innocently. A friend emailed and asked about grabbing dinner or drinks after work. I'm flat out broke and told her so. She offered to pay. I debated. I should have stuck with no.

Finally, about an hour ago, I said, 'yeah sure. why not? and suggested going somewhere for pizza since there are tons of places and its relatively cheap.

She replied back that yeah, pizza would be fine. "where should we go?" she asked, but then added that she needed to run errands and would be in a specific area of town. So, why not just say, I need to go here and there's this place nearby, since we now obviously have to go near to where she needs to be?

I fumed, but let it go. Fumed for maybe no good reason, except its been a stressful week.

She then emails back and says she can't make it until 6:30. I was hoping for around 5:15. I'm tired and hungry and don't want to do work in my office and then have to drive out of my way an hour later than planned just to eat a couple pieces of free pizza.

So now she's suggesting doing it another time, because I had told her I hadn't wanted to go that late. I can tell she's pissed -- she's doing the whiny, victim email. Well, since I have to be here to wait for this draft to be done, and then go here and pick up this....blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

And I'm sorry, but I just don't have the stomach for it at this point.

I'm tired, I didn't sleep well last nite, and for the past 48 hours I've been thinking non-stop about a decision I have to make concerning my job and my home and my future.

A few weeks ago I interviewed for another job. It looked promising and I knew when I left I had really done well in the interview. I wasn't surprised when I got called back for a second interview. That was yesterday. And it wasn't just a follow-up interview, it was an offer.

An offer that was not what I had been hoping for, but still very much worth considering. The bad side, I'd have to move, meaning I'd have to sell the house I love, pack up and start new somewhere else. From homeowner back to renter within just over a year.

Not necessarily a bad thing, but it leaves alot of room for worry and analysis and "I wonders"

Still, I think the opportunity for upward movement with this new company is much more promising and will be much better for my long-term career than staying where I'm at now.

I just have to wait for the call back because I did try to negotiate a counter offer. I'll find out by tomorrow if that was successful or not.

So a major decision that I've had to come to within the past 2 days while also having to deal with "should I throw any more garbage in that dumpster, because its getting kind of full?"

Egads.

A friend of mine had a date the other nite. An honest to goodness date where the guy picked her up, drove them to the place that he had picked out, and bought her a nice dinner complete with wine and dessert and great conversation.

Its been so long since I've had that. The past year or so, my dates have been the online variety, wehre you email, eventually phone and then agree to meet in a public place that you each drive to seperately, to ensure safety and a quick escape should they not work out well.

Which means the inevitable, "where do you want to go" question that most guys force you into answering, and then having to drive yourself to the date, drive yourself home and sometimes, even paying for half of it.

Just one day, that's all I ask. One day, where nothing presents itself needing a major decision; where things easily fall into place, and I can just 'be' and not have to worry about making sure my little part of the universe runs efficiently. And maybe, maybe eventually, a real honest to goodness old-fashioned date where I meet the guy in real time and real life first, instead of last, and have a first date story that draws oohs and ahhs, instead of eeks and acks, and laughter.

Is all that too much to ask?

So Far, So Good

Well, so far, the New Year's resolution is holding.

I know, I know. Not even a full week since I actually made it, but hey, I count my progress in baby steps. Its more impressive that way.

So anyhoo, this weekend I was quite the social butterfly -- doing more socially, as promised.

Saturday, not only did I meet a friend for dinner and a movie, but after that little outing, I came home, freshened up a bit, and about an hour and a half later, I was back in my car, on my way to meet another group of friends at a local bar, for karaoke, of all things.

But I have to admit. Change is hard. After coming home from the movie and dinner, I flopped on the couch until it was time to meet my friend Mike and his crew. Lo and behold, Grease was on, and I got a phone call from a friend, and I actually toyed with the thought of bagging the bar outing in favor of staying in for a repeat watching of Grease and some girl talk.

I didn't, though. I stuck to my guns and had a really good time. Met 8 new people. They're a great group, and at the end of the nite, which happened to be after 1 a.m., we all said our goodbyes and that we'd all have to get together again soon.

Once home, I couldn't believe I had stayed out that late. Seriously. I can't even remember the last time I was out until 1 a.m. -- boring 30-something that I've become! But it was fun. And so glad I went. Mike checked in with me on Sunday to make sure I really did have a good time and has already extended an open invite for upcoming weekends.

I think I'll be taking him up on that offer. (Not every week -- I can only handle so much karaoke, and these guys are addicted -- but it was fun and something I'd actually enjoy doing again on a semi-regular basis.)

Then on Sunday, it was a lunch date with my godmother to exchange xmas gifts while imbibing flavored martinis.

Last nite, met my friend Ellen for dinner, which was nice as we hadn't gotten together in months.

So, not bad. Had fun, got out, and kept my resolution.

Tonite, I'm staying in. I have tons to do, and can use the R&R. Not to mention needing to catch up on laundry and other household stuff. I did resolve to do more of everything, after all.

Upping the personal ante

For at least the past half dozen years or so, my one and only New Year's resolution was to not make any New Year's resolutions.

Prior to that, I did make them. Religiously. And they were always the same, year in and year out, because every year, without fail, I broke each and every one of them.

Lose weight; be more organized; procrastinate less; work out more; be ON TIME; quit smoking, etc, etc, etc.

But this year, I guess I just feel the need to have some goals for myself. I feel as though I'm at a point where my life needs an overhaul. Or at least a tune-up.

Granted, I am not completely goal-less. I have things I'm striving for. So it would be redundant to repeat them as resolutions.

So, instead, I've opted to make just one resolution and be sure to stick with it. To accomplish it. And not feel that resignation and sense of failure we all feel when in March, we realize most if not all of our New Year's resolutions have fallen by the wayside.

My single and simple resolution for 2006 is this: Do More.

More of what? At this point, I'm not completely sure. But it hit me one day that the lethargy I've been feeling as of late is due to more than just stress and overwork. I think its that I've used the stress and bad job situation and long hours as an excuse to become undisciplined.

I've stopped pushing myself, allowing myself to wallow in stillness as compensation for those things that negatively impact my life and over which, I have no control.

Like a well-meaning mother trying to cure her child's bad day at school or being called names on the playground with a cookie or a trip to the ice cream shop, I've tried to heal my stresses and upsets and dissatisfactions by allowing myself to not do anything, if it truly didn't have to be done. All the while saying I was tired, burnt out from work, etc., so I deserved the down time.

Thing is, too much down time is not a good thing. One gets lazy. One starts preferring nights in with DVDs to actually going out and doing things with others. One ends up watching way too much TV. Things don't get done when they should or maybe as much as they should.

Lately, I've found myself in awe of some individuals I've either met or read about who seem to do soooo much on a regular daily basis, and have accomplished so much for the stage of their lives at which they're at.

I'm tired of admiring. I want to be one of them.

So starting now, its out of the comfort zone for this girl; and back out into the world of doing, and self-imposed activity and more social outings, and yes, chores. No more dishes in the sink or ridiculous laundry pile-ups.

Moss doesn't grow on a rolling stone, and I realize its high time I get myself back in the game. On all levels.

My goal is that in 2006 I spend less time on my couch and more time going out, having fun, working out, reading, writing and accomplishing. In summary, DOING.

I'm starting by making myself do at least one thing each day that I normally wouldn't have made the time for -- whether it be something as simple as cleaning out a closet, or baking brownies or writing, or calling friends.

And I'm hoping that come March, instead of being by the wayside, my resolution will still be very much a part of my daily life.

And then maybe, I'll be able to work on all those other long-forgotten ones -- like being on time, and losing weight and procrastinating less. (yeah, right)

Feelin' the Music

It has always happened for me in the car alone, or in the shower. Being completely overtaken by a song or CD.

I have no doubt that music is, in a way, a form of salvation for us mortals, taking us momentarily out of the present and transporting us to a different place, even if only for 2.16 minutes.

As a teen, I can remember sitting on my friend Lisa's front porch, in rolled up denim shorts and halter tops, cranking out songs by David Cassidy and Andy Gibb and other early 80s heartthrobs. Sometimes we talked, or read magazines, sometimes we just watched the traffic go by; but regardless of what we were doing, we were totally in that particular moment.

I can also remember carting my "boom box" into the bathroom each morning or nite, so that I could jam out to a favorite cassette while taking a shower. For that 20 minutes, it was just me and the music and looking back, it kind of helped ease me into my day or make me forget about whatever teen angst was eating at me. It also allowed me the freedom to sing, something I never do in public, because truth is, I couldn't carry a tune if it had a handle.

These days, I don't often let myself get that completely absorbed anymore. Showertime is a time for me to think about all I have to do once I get into the office. The drive to work, while the music is on, I'm still thinking about my "To Do" list, whether it be for work, or what I have to do once I get home; or mulling over a recent conversation, project, etc.

But last nite, driving home in a pouring rain, a local radio station took a break from the holiday music and had an hour of Retro 80s hits.

For those who know me best, they know I am a total 80s child. And I can't walk by a bargain CD bin at a department or record or drugstore without pawing through it to see if it holds some long lost favorite song or artist from my most fun decade.

As the beginning strains of "Melt With You" started playing, I instinctively turned up the volume and suddenly, it wasn't Christmas nite, 2005 anymore. I was recalling nights out from 15 years ago, dancing with friends, and somewhere mid-way into the song, I wasn't thinking about anything anymore. I was totally into the music, singing along and letting it take over me.

When the song ended, I recalled that it had been a long time indeed since I'd been so completely absorbed by a song or music; to a point where my mind stopped churning, and I wasn't multi-tasking. True, I was driving, but other than simply watching the road, there wasn't a single other thought on my mind than the strains of that song.

The announcer broke in and I tuned him right out, instead remembering V, a co-worker from my first post-college job, who I absolutely loved. I think it was him who made me realize the importance of music and its emotional and physiological qualities.

V was a graphic artist who went nowhere without his walkman and many, many tapes. He listened to all kinds of music from punk to heavy metal to the Beatles. Walk into his office at any time, and you'd find his eyes fixed on his computer screen and one hand on his mouse, creating graphics or logos.

But the rest of his body was completley overtaken by whatever was coming out of his earphones. While he worked, his feet were tapping, his head was bobbing and his upper body grooving. He LOVED music and he enjoyed it to the hilt every single day.

Other than at nightclubs or concerts, I had never seen anyone so totally absorbed by a tape or a song or the radio, myself included. But after witnessing his sheer and pure enjoyment, it made me think I was missing out on something. And so, I started listening to other types of music and trying to get into music as much as V did. I even bought a new walkman and started taking it to the gym and on solo walks around the local lake.

I guess it kind of worked, because these days, there are certain songs or CDs, I often long to hear; and when I pop in the CD or hear the song on the radio, I stop thinking about everything and simply listen. And let the beat and the rhythms and the words take me out of my senses for that brief time.

I've found its a great stress-reliever and way to relax.

Last nite, after my musical ride home, I didn't turn on the TV or sit at the computer once I got in. I popped in a few favorite CDs, poured a glass of cabernet, sat back and just listened. Allowing myself the freedom to do nothing and giving the music total control. It had been awhile, and was just the break I needed from my recent work stress and the holiday craziness.

I promised myself that I'll be doing it more often.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

Well, the big day is here and more than half gone, and right now, today feels like any other Sunday.

Last nite was our family's big celebration with gift exchange, and it was truly a beautiful nite. I even got a token drunken compliment from my brother's neighbor, who told me, in a somewhat slurred voice, that I was a beautiful woman and one of the finest specimens he has ever seen.

I kid you not. Not sure if I can live up to that compliment, (or believe it either) but hey, beggars can't be choosers, so I'm keepin' it! lol

And my hunch was right. Everyone did really love their gifts. Esp. my littlest niece who, after crazily ripping open bags and boxes, knelt in the center of her piles of things and declared, "Ohhh, thank you so much everybody! I love it all! I really, really do!"

And even if no one else had liked their gifts, seeing the sheer joy and excitement on her face would have more than made up for it.

Afterwards, we all went home -- stuffed bloated messes, bemoaning our lack of self control and over-indulgence, but warm and full and happy and most importantly, grateful for the gift of family and plenty and togetherness that sadly, not everyone gets to enjoy.

Today, I woke up a bit earlier than usual, and so was able to actually read all the newspaper and have breakfast made, eaten and washed up after, bed made and some minor household tasks done, all by noon.

Now, its time to get dressed and go to the parents for dinner. Tomorrow, I take my nieces to a matinee production of the Nutcracker, that is preceded by our traditional Chinese lunch. About six years ago, when I first started taking my oldest niece, I asked her what she wanted for lunch, expecting her to say McDonald's or Chuck E. Cheese. She said chicken and broccoli, and so we went to the local Chinese place.

The following year, when we were leaving her house, she said, "So, we're going for chinese, right?" And a tradition was born.

So for the past six years, on the day after Christmas, I pick them up, we go for Chinese, and then go wait in line so that we can get really good seats for the ballet. Which to my nieces means nothing further back than the 5th row!

When I drop them off early tomorrow evening, and say goodbye and they tell me how much fun they had before running off to the kitchen to heat up their Chinese leftovers, the holiday will truly be over. And I 'll be both relieved and anxious -- waiting to do it all again next year.

Sure, its alot of preparation and expense and extra work, getting ready for this one particular day or two, but the payoff, while it can at times seem fleeting, really does stick with everyone and I realize, when I look back at all the Christmases past, how much the tradition and everything associated with it, really does all mean.

Getting Excited!

Wow! Can't believe its been a whole month since I blogged. But actually, the past month has been so crazy busy and hectic and stressful, its been a month since I've done much of anything productive other than work and stress, and oh, yeah, that annual task of Christmas shopping.

With the big day just 2 days away, I am thrilled to report that I am DONE! Finished last nite with the Fed Ex delivery of my bro and sis-in-law's gift -- they're gonna scream when they see it(or at least I hope!) -- and a quick trip to the mall to get the last 2 people on my list.

And I am so excited about this year's gift exchange.

Last year, I had just moved into my house two weeks before Christmas and had so much to do and was so broke after all the closing, insurance, and other house-buying costs, that I hated the gifts I gave. Partly because I bought them in a rush, and partly because I pretty much got everybody just one gift and that was it.

Normally, I like to give several -- one main gift, with a few small ones tucked in as well -- cute and practical and kitchy little things. Special ornaments or a coffee mug filled with packets of specialty teas and coffees or a CD -- you get the picture.

But last year, that was out of the question both timewise, and money-wise. So this year, the Christmas Me is back and very much looking forward to giving out my gifts. And I think everyone will really like what I did get. I put alot of thought into each and every one.

Last year, I know some folks were disappointed, esp. Dad and one of my friends and I think my godmother. They didn't say so of course, but you can always tell when you know someone well.

So, come Saturday, after Christmas Eve dinner when we do our exchange, I'm gonna be loving every minute of it!

And, having a four-day weekend is also nice. Today, I'm not working and will be spending most of it attacking my house with a vengeance. It WILL be clean.

Like my blogging, it too has suffered as I haven't really given it a good scrubbing and going over in about as long as its been since I blogged. Oh sure, I wiped and dusted a bit here and there, where needed; and even vacuumed and did laundry a couple times. But it is sorely in need of major cleaning -- wiping down appliances and polishing furniture and hardwood floors and mopping and dusting baseboards. That type of cleaning.

So, I'm off. Hoping to get done by 4 so that I can then kick back and watch Oprah. Then, its a nice dinner. Right now I'm torn between actually cooking something healthy and wholesome, or ordering sushi. Guess it will all depend on my mood when I'm done and if I feel like hitting the grocery store.

Tonite, I'm not going out on purpose. Gonna stay in, and get comfy with either a good DVD or book. And tomorrow, its gift-wrapping and giving (and getting) day!


HAPPY, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Tis the Season

I have no idea what has gotten into me, but I am just bursting at the seams with holiday spirit!

Usually, I don't get in the Christmas mood until, well, just right before Christmas. Seriously. I'm one of those people frantically racing through the mall at 3:30 on Christmas Eve, buying last minute gifts and wrapping paper.

I don't play Christmas carols until just a few days before the actual day, and most often, I'm digging through my CD collection on Christmas Eve after returning from the mall so that I can at least play my small collection of holiday music while wrapping gifts.

But this year -- its different. I'm getting a tree; an honest to goodness six-foot tall tree, not just my 2-ft short tabletop one, and this weekend will be out procuring lights and ornaments and garland, and I'm even thinking about a couple of yard decorations.

I'm in the holiday spirit big-time and it actually feels great.

The past couple of months have been especially stressful, and lately, I've found comfort in just doing simple things for myself. Grocery shopping and buying whole, fresh foods and making myself real meals that require cutting and chopping and cooking on a stove. Making a pot of homemade soup on a cold, windy day. Losing myself in several good books I've recently started. Jamming out to music while doing household chores on a Sunday afternoon. And, letting myself actually call in sickfor two days when I caught myself a death of a cold 2 weeks ago.

And now, with Thanksgiving (one of my favorite holidays) over, I'm ready to start prepping for Christmas. With a vengeance;)

I think maybe its because I now have a whole house to play with, and last year, I was literally moving in over Christmas. But more likely, I think perhaps its an enjoyable diversion.

For the past few months I have fretted and worried over a number of major and minor things -- both on a professional level, as well as a personal one. And now, with the holiday season upon us, I'm ready to lose myself in something that isn't work, has absolutely nothing to do with friends, work, neighbors, co-workers, etc. Just me and my surroundings. Walls and shelves and doorways and rooms don't talk back or tell you they don't like what you're doing or that you're doing it wrong.

So, after work tonite, I'm off to buy my wreaths -- there's a great stand just down the road from here; and I'll hang 'em as soon as I get home.

Tomorrow, is tree day and shopping for ornaments, garland and other decorations.

Sunday, I think I'll finish what I started, maybe log in a couple hours of shopping and then sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labors.

And next week, I"m on vacation. I have already made myself vow not to check or answer work email, and to screen all incoming calls. I'm scheduling lunches with friends, a day trip to the outlets, and a massage.

I'm hoping the R&R and all the fun, self-indulgent stuff I have planned will bring back the spring in my step and clear my head and help me to shift more of my focus to my personal level, instead of to the professional level which has been such a bane for me lately.

Flipping through time

Last night I paged through a book I hadn't picked up in some time -- my high school yearbook.

I don't know what prompted me to pull it down off the shelf, but once I had it in my hands, I found myself going through it page by page, studying each one, and remembering the people and events from that time in my life.

I went to a small high school. So even though there were the typical cliques and popular kids and jocks and nerds, we pretty much all knew each other and ostracization was minimal. If nothing else, at least your classmates spoke to you in homeroom.

What did surprise me was that there were a couple of my classmates that I have absolutely no recollection of. Not the face, nor the name, nor can I place them. One kid, I think, was a transfer student who came to us eihter at the end of our junior year, or the beginning of senior year. But still, no excuse.

I was also surprised by how much did come through mind as I flipped through those pages. The teacher several of us girls had a crush on. The one teacher we all despised for her mean temperament and take no prisoners approach to teaching.

Home coming and prom and gym class. All the pics were there, and amazingly, so were all the memories.

Some more recent events however, have overshadowed those memories. One classmate died of a terminal illness a few years ago. One of the popular guys is now an ex-con. A girl from my homeroom is a young widow, and the one girl almost everyone avoided because she was 'weird' is now married to a very successful and well-known local attorney and her picture is in the paper at least a few times a year. Another girl, is perhaps the luckiest of us all as she survived a very serious car accident that by all accounts should have killed her.

Funny how things change and come full circle. Our circumstances really are never permanent. The bad goes away, and sometimes so does the good. All part of growing up; all part of life.

As I flipped through those pages, I had to laugh at some of the things that really bothered me back then -- my hair, my clothes, my weight. Looking back, I realize they were all just fine. And I also realized that we so often put way too much stock in what other people think.

But back then, I felt my clothes weren't good enough because my parents either refused to buy the trendy stuff all the really popular girls wore, in favor of more classic styles that were better made, or they couldn't afford the over-priced stuff that would be out of style forever in a few short months. It bugged me, and now looking back, I really didn't look all that much different from anyone else. (Of course, the uniforms helped a bit -- it was a small private school!)

And some of the boys -- how could I have had a crush on Bill?! He was a skinny, sarcastic imp of a boy back then. And why didn't I see the potential in Matt? He was cute -- but part of the geeky crew. Did I feel somehow better than him?

(On the high school social ladder, I guess I was somewhere in the middle -- not cool enough to be really popular, but not considered an outcast or total nerd.)

If I did, I was wrong. Today, he's a very successful engineer and even dated one of my college friends years after high school graduation -- and she was devastated when after just a couple of dates, he wasn't interested.

As I came to the end of the book, it made me think how our opinions as we go through various stages of our lives are formed so much by others, and how our memories often retain those opinions. Until one day, we happen upon an old photograph, or run into an old classmate, or pick up our high school yearbook, and we realize so much was so better than it might have seemed at the time. And how some of those 'by popular vote' opinions we held were so completely off-base.

Especially now, looking back in retrospect and knowing what we all know now. I guess its called growing up, and today, our lives richer for those experiences, and our ability to look back and compare notes.

For me, it was also a reminder not to get so caught up in the status quo, and keeping up with the joneses and worrying about what others might think or say. I look back somewhat fondly on high school -- altho I wouldn't go back for even a day -- but wonder what it might have been like had I been less reined in and intimidated by what my peers would say or think or how I looked? Better? Worse? More fun?

At this point, I'll never know, but I can't wait for my reunion next spring and getting together with old friends, and foes and allies and those who I didn't take the time to really get to know very well.

Hard to believe its been 20 years since we've all been together. (sigh) In the past, I didn't bother attending reunions. I was busy or didn't care all that much. But now, I'm curious to see what everyone has been up to and how we've all fared after all this time.

And hopefully, those two boys I couldn't remember at all will be there. I wonder what they're up to.