Funky, funky---and not in the good way.

Well, we're all in a funk. F-U-N-K, FUNK. Everyone seems to be in a funk. It seems to me that we're all feeling pretty grey--no one gets really excited about anything, there's quite a bit of snapping going on, and at work, if you sneak up on a person in their office you'll likely find them with their head in a drawer full of chocolate listening to extremely depressing music muttering to themselves. Personally, I'm finding myself to be very irritable. The wrong music plays and I'm complaining about it to myself in my head. People start offering unsolicited advice and I visualize punching them. I get ignored for no reason and decide to play right back, which is very unlike me. I eat much more chocolate than normal (no this is not PMS). Grammatical errors push me over the edge. Mostly, I want to go in my office and shut the door. I'm in a funk. And, the way it sounds, this funk is going to last at least a few more months--like til summer. We'll all be barrels of fun to be around by then. Beth will start having to wear a sign that says, "Don't get too close to the animal, she bites (and I'm not talking figuratively)." It's like that. We'll have to lock her in an attic, like Mr. Rochester's wife, or that other woman in the yellow room...I enjoy her company--I really hope that doesn't happen.

Seriously, we're all in the kind of funk that leaves everyone feeling as though their head might explode. And, as Dr. Cox says, if our heads explode, we'll look ridiculous. (Watch Scrubs.) Which leaves me thinking we should probably do something to alleviate the pressure that is intruding on the red mushy mess of our brains. I know some people take to working out, talking to their therapist, yoga, etc. to relieve stress. Not me, nope-- I believe in very large glasses of wine. Truly. I think a large glass of dark red wonderful liquid can cure a bad day. Drink up, and drink one more if neccesary, let your cheeks warm up, and go to bed. It doesn't really get much better.

*Please note: I'm not ready to be on an episode of Intervention quite yet--in fact, since I started the 100 day challenge I stopped drinking during the week completely, but let's just say that today validates my choice to take a lil' sip out of the ole' bottle. I'll be honest, though...I do enjoy that show. Mainly because it makes me realize how much worse life could actually be. And, frankly, it's one of the few shows I can finish watching and turn to the person next to me and say, "Phew, at least I'm not that effed up!" Always looking at the bright side...yep, that's me.

Another reason my life is like Fergie's

I'm trapped in a hotel room. Albeit a nice hotel room, I'm still trapped. And it's sortof cold--perhaps that's because it's -20 degrees outside and blizzarding. It is times like these that I thank the PC gods for wifi.

It's coming upon travel season, and due to a few events, I'm out a bit early. Today's been pretty lame. That's not entirely true, I guess...if you count the creepy encounters at creepy gas stations in creepy little towns. I'm driving through the east side of Iowa and I really need to stop. I'm parched, and I need a restroom. So, as I come upon this creepy little town and see this creepy little gas station, I decide that I'll risk it because who knows when the next civilized looking gas station will appear (um, actually, it was only 4 blocks away--damnit!).

So, I go and half the coolers are empty and unplugged, the shelves are unstocked, and I realize I am the only customer in this building aside from these four old dudes sitting around a table. I wander the perimeter looking for the restroom which happens to be a unisex bathroom with a door that is half as wide as the average door which happens to be a problem because the very large man working behind the counter could clearly not fit through the door to clean the bathroom ever...ever. Ewe. We're talking the kind of bathroom with the three choice condom dispenser on the wall...So, I mean, we're talking nasty, skanky little creepy dirty bathroom--the kind where you'll squat till your thighs disintegrate rather than letting one square inch of your leg touch that disease infested throne. Traumatizing.

Anyway, after I get my senses back, I go to pay and I hand the very large man my money. One of the dudes from the round table pipes up and says, "well, you're uh looking mighty nice today, miss" And, I'm all like, "Thanks Romeo." At which point I decided that my creepy feeling might be valid, and I grab my Red Bull and take of sprinting for the door. Phew. I repeatedly beat my head against my window after rolling upon the Casey's four blocks later.

This is only one of the reasons that travel season, fitting the tone of the rest of my life, is so glamorous.

**There will certainly be more glamor-filled stories in the months to come.

Tae Bo, Tae Bo, it's off to hurt we go...

We (my coworkers and I) decided that teamwork was an easier way to go about our attempt at getting fit. Well, I mean, teamwork along with a pool of money that goes to the winner--Biggest Loser style, except we call it the CHUB Club (which translates into College Hall Uber Bodies)...Anyway, out of all of this comes our twice weekly workout session after work. It's either Biggest Loser on DVD or Advanced Tae Bo...and who doesn't want want to watch Billy Blanks get all sweaty in that nasty unitard? Sick.

Anyway, I'm standing in the middle of the room finaggling with my tennis shoe that has somehow got caught up on something in my bag, and I hear my friend B$ say, "how do you get this thing open?"

At this point I am not sure what B$ is struggling with, so I jerk the tennis shoe out of the bag and head towards the media machine in the classroom we steal for our workout.

As I assess the situation, I say, "What do you mean, get it open?"

To which she says, "I push eject and it doesn't open."

"Why do you need to get it open?"

"To put this in!!!!!" She says, while looking at me with that you're-so-ridiculously-stupid-I-would-rather-slap-you-than-continue-this-conversation look and shaking the Tae Bo in my face.

"Dude, B$, it's a VHS, just push it in....???"

At which point I decided that B$ is getting way too advanced as far as technology goes, which is probably not her fault, but that of her wickedly savvy nerd husband (dude's got skills--computer hacking skills, nunchuck skills...), but really, to forget how to work a VCR???

Love you B! :)

G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S

Here's the thing I don't understand about Iowans and winter...why don't people slow down while driving in the snow? I was on my way to work this morning and about two blocks from my place, I was getting on the interstate--dead stop, not moving anywhere. Accidents all over the freeway. So, I sit there and wait and wait and wait while verbally abusing myself for not taking my alternative route. This mental bashing lasts the 11 minutes it takes me to go two exits, and I finally get on my highway. It's no better and then this woman decides to pull out in front of me while I am driving relatively fast, because apparently she hopped out of bed and decided today was the day she wanted my car to eat hers. I didn't though, and she's lucky because if she had I would have busted out my new kickboxing gloves and knocked her lights out. I bet I passed 8 different accidents on the way to work. Long story short it took me 52 minutes to drive a 30 minute commute. Great start to the morning.



And yes, in case you thought I wouldn't come back to it, I got my new gloves! They are red and amazing and already smell. They look something like this and make me feel really strong and important. I'm also sure that they make me much better at kickboxing and now when I take my gloves off and the sweat on my hands smells so bad I could literally vomit right on the spot, I at least know it's my sweat, and not the sweat of the big dude that sweat in them the time before and Jeff who claims to have cleaned them after every individual use really just throws them in the cabinet for the germs and diseases to fester--that's a gross word. Anyway, yes, point being, got my new gloves, and am one step closer to becoming a professional. You just wait. I'm not messing around.

Now, I am wishing it was warmer than 10 degrees outside so I could go look at the moon. It's full and on a clear night like tonight it's bright and hypnotizing. I find full moons offer lots of hope for some reason--maybe I'm looking too much into it. Maybe it's the loss of Heath Ledger that's got me down...Maybe I am just looking for hope because I know in two minutes I am going to trudge my sweaty self downstairs and cook up an extremely satiating 4 point meal that I will eat in my nasty sweats while watching whatever pointless reality tv show they are offering up on the platter of un-prime primetime tv (END THE WRITERS STRIKE ALREADY, WILL YA!?), after which I'll be jonesing for chocolate all night long and another mental invasion of the little hungry fat cells will occur while the brain tries as hard as possible to force them to retreat. Effing cookie dough, why do you have to taste so good?


Gosh, my life is so glamorous, like Fergie's...minus Josh Duhamel, all the money, the hit songs, well, you get the point...

I'm back!

Don't worry--seriously, quit worrying. The wait is over. I'm back...sort of. I have to apologize for my recent hiatus from the blogosphere--I know many of you have been waiting anxiously! Part of the neglect stems from being busy, and the other has to do with the dullness that has overcome my very existence.

This weekend, though, was actually quite fun. Emerson was baptized, and my sister and BIL asked me to be her godmother--a request that I was thrilled to accept. If sister gets around to posting some pictures, I'll be sure to add them on here! Anyway, I headed to my sister's on Friday night and some of the family was already there. We left Em home with her grandma and we headed out for dinner and drinks. It was a pretty great time.

Saturday was spent being lazy and waiting for everyone else to show up before the baptism on Saturday evening. The house got quite full by the end of Saturday--there were probably 15 or 17 people at the house. Granted, their house is a pretty decent size--but by the end of the evening one was tripping over people to get around. My mom made some great lasagna, and we had (and spilled) some wine, played some Phase 10, and had a jolly old time.

I just got home and made some dinner after the four trips I made upstairs with all the stuff that I managed to bring home from my sister's. There was a dude out in his car waiting to pick up his daughter and I am pretty sure he found watching me carry a vacuum, suitcase, hanging clothes, and a pillow up three flights quite comical.

I am now watching one of the best movies of all time--Before Sunset. If you haven't seen Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, you, my dear chick flick loving friend, are so missing out. Watch Before Sunrise first. This is the real stuff, I mean, real make me feel like putty and scrape me off the floor good passionate amazing stuff. Fate, destiny, comedy, the whole bit--without being way cheesy. You have to see it.

So, I realize that you are probably a little disappointed by the blaze (I don't know how to find the right e) nature of this blog, and for that I am very sorry. Rest assured, I will be back in fine form within the next few days.

Hi-ya!

Well, my roommate Danielle and I have gone out of our comfort zones and finished week one of our new fitness class: "kardio kickboxing." The first day of kickboxing I honestly thought I was going to have to curl up on the corner of the mat and die right there. Our instructor was constantly coming over and turning my foot this way or my knee that way and making sure my wrist was flat and that I wasn't pulling up to hard doing an upper cut and was body punching rather than arm punching--it was embarrassing. I was sweating like a fat nasty pig and was 'that' girl who, midway through, walked over to the water bottle and took a drink. I could feel everyone's judgemental stares burning through my back as they're bouncing around thinking, "water's for sissies--she's so lazy...hi-ya!" They're all like friggen' pros doing matrix shit in the air knocking their bags to the floor. Not me. I did a roundhouse kick and about cried because I thought I'd strained my hip-flexor.

But, that was only day one. Now I've come to know what it means to jab, cross, uppercut, hook, roundhouse kick, (and a few others I can't remember) and every combination of the above you could ever imagine. Plus, in the middle he'll stop and make us do killer abs or run in circles...I'm pretty sure I'm ready to get scrappy in a dark alley. You'd probably never know what hit you.

After several sessions I am feeling less and less like 'that' girl, and our lovely, cute-for-a-middle-aged-tiny-fitness-instructor-with-skills-like-you've-never-seen, Jeff is actually learning and using our names--that's right, we're becoming "regulars." Hell, maybe I'll even get my own gloves. Tonight he even told me I was doing a "nice job." So, I punched him in the gut just so he was sure.

I've found that it's a great stress reliever. After a long day at work today, I drove to the gym and during the first jab session I imagined the faces of everyone that frustrated me today right there smack in the center--jab, jab, cross, and in my mind, their butts were on the floor (and, in some cases, bleeding). *Big sigh. I feel a lot better now.

An idea...

So, I'm thinking about writing a novel. Yes, seriously. It might take like 10 or 15 years, but I still think I want to do it. Anyway, what I am going to include in this page is possibly the first page of said novel. It's only slightly autobiographical, but my main character will probably end up being a little more cynical than I am in real life. There are many fictitious events, and made up names--this is no memoir--I don't want to be like that Million Little Pieces dude--being raked over the coals on Oprah. Gosh. Anyway, I don't usually put my muttered words on the blogosphere--this is a big step for me--be kind. However, I need some reader feedback to tell me if you think I should continue with this idea, or put it in the trash with the others! So, read on--enjoy!

The Trials of a 20-Something Cynic Facing the World

January.

I am driving through Wisconsin on business. As I looked around and took in the sights of the other seats in my Subaru and examined the remnants of many a fast food meal on the go, a thought occurred to me: “how the hell did you get here?”

Well, it’s actually a less than interesting story. I majored in the humanities, graduated summa cum laude, and decided to take some time away from school while trying to figure out what the heck I want to do with my life. The thing is, there isn’t much call in the work force for English majors without a graduate degree, which brings me to where I am now…working in the insurance industry, gaining ass circumference by the meal, dating HBO, spending most of my nights in skanky hotels, being continuously discontented by the state of the world and my life, and typing emails on a laptop on which the “o” key doesn’t stay attached—I’ve taped it to the I and the P, but still, it takes a careful stroke of the keyboard to type correctly. One can say my life is a little less than glamorous.

But, don’t worry—that doesn’t have me down. I mean, if I think about it, I’m sure I could come up with something extremely positive to say about my life…
Well, maybe I’ll come back to that thought!

On to other things. As I pulled into Wisconsin this Sunday evening, my grandmother called. She usually calls at least 4 times a week—I usually pick up once or twice. Tonight, I figured, since I had time to kill, I might as well get it over with.

"Hello?"
"Hi dear.”
“Hi Grandma, how are you?”
“Oh fine, dear, how are you?”
“Good, good...grandma?? Hello?”
Rustling occurrs on the other end...
"Are you there?" Grandma asks.
"Yes, still here--what are you doing?"
"Oh, shoot, sorry, I'm out on a walk with the dogs. I'm trying to use one of those damn blue teeth thingys but I can't get it to stay on my ear. Anyway, where are you this week?”
“Wisconsin.”
“You know, there are lots of farms in Wisconsin—lots of dairy farms.”
“Yeah, I was aware of that.”
“And you know it takes lots of men to run dairy farms? Lots of muscular, attractive men.”
“Is that so, grandma?”
“Oh, yes, of course dear. And, if you look hard enough I am certain you can find yourself one.”
“A man or a dairy farm?”
“A man, dear. You know that no woman wants to grow up being old and single. I mean, come on now, I need some more great grand-babies—those ones your sisters have are real cute, but for once it would be nice if we could have one from you. You don’t have to go being the odd one out all the time you know, just get it over with. You know your woman parts are only going to be working correctly for a few more years, and then, before you know it, you’ll be sterile as all get out and wishing you would have taken my advice.”
“Grandma, I am not even 25 yet.”
“Yes, dear, but those boys aren’t going to wait around forever.”

This is how my entire family acts towards me when the topic of conversation is men. I am single. I have been single for a long time—since I broke up with…well, let’s just call him “Loser.”

If Loser had turned out to be a different kind of guy, we might never have broken up. And, if Loser wasn’t such a relentless narcissist, my opinion towards the opposite sex might be a bit different than it actually is now. And, if Loser had been able to sweep me off my feet, remain sweet and wonderful, and stop lying for at least five minutes, well, if Loser could have done that, I might not be here in Wisconsin.

Anyway, I’m here in Wisconsin. I’m here for an intensive conference on term-life policies…I know, invigorating. It is at times like these that I think about the disappointment in my advisor’s eyes when I told him I wasn’t going to be going into the English field right away, and instead I was going to do something that seemed practical at the time—get a “real” job. I’m at the point now where I would be frightened to run into him as I am sure he’s sworn me off—he likely wouldn’t remember my name, even if I was standing right in front of him wearing a name tag....

What comes next needs some more editing, so this is all you get for now...I know, it's just a tiny snippet and not really enough to give you a serious idea of what might happen. Imagine a little character development if you must...

Caucus day in Iowa!

Many people throughout the nation wouldn't necessarily think of Iowa as the most exciting place to live. And, some days, I would agree with them. But, I do feel that there are obvious exceptions to those Iowa's-one-of-the-most-boring-states-in-the-nation attitudes. Today would be one of those exceptions. Why, you ask?? It's caucus day in Iowa!!! We are the first state to caucus, and so we get a lot of media attention--for example, I watched most of the crew from ABCs Good Morning America at places I know in Des Moines this morning. Celebrities have flooded our streets. We're a pretty big deal in the world of politics, and I am stupidly excited about seeing how today turns out!

I think we have a lot of great candidates running. Many have different positive plans as far as changing the current run that our country is on. In different aspects of the political platform, I found out very quickly which candidates I absolutely could not stand, and those whom I gave a little more thought! I could see myself supporting several of the different democratic candidates--but, when it came down to it, and I had to look at them holistically, I found that rather than caucusing for three of them, I could only choose one.

The thing is, I realize that there is a lot of horrible crap going on in the rest of the world. That's really no secret to anyone. We Americans, and, today, especially Iowans have to be grateful that we live in a country where we can make those decisions freely--the least we can do is get involved in the political system. It's open to us--we can think what we want--we can support who we want. I think we are in need of a real change--and I think there's one out there who can provide that more than the others.

Even though it's cold, I hope you all grab your coats and get out tonight. We're Iowans, we can handle the weather. Caucusing is exciting, no matter who you decide to stand with--I know who's getting my vote! You don't agree with me? Go out tonight and prove it.