Monday, July 19, 2010
Before I go any further in this blog entry, I've just gotta say, check out the video. Paul Weller is one hot ticket. My oh my.
Now that I've gotten THAT out of the way, here comes the actual blog entry:
I had a somewhat up and down week and that is going to be pretty much the way things are for the remainder of the month so please bear with me. On Tuesday, my company heard that we have been selected to present a pre-adventure for TEDxBoston ( neuronrobotics.com/2010/07/tedxbosto
n/ ). This is an ENORMOUS deal -- it is the kind of thing that careers are made on.
So, we are busy. Because I am the only non-technical employee, I get to do all the grunt work: invitations, Tweets, blog entries, order catering, figure out other things we need (magic markers, name tags, etc.), promote, send out thank yous, etc.
We are in good shape but it is generally because I worked like a dog for the last four days of last week. Invitations are done, Tweets are done and scheduled and almost all of the blog entries have been written. Most of the stuff has been bought. Today I've got to call catering. Catering is tricky as I don't have a head count yet, and I know that people will come in at the last minute. There's limited space in the pre-adventures so I can see more interest being generated if the -- ahem -- helicopter ride over Boston or the BSO, um, thing get filled up. At least I think there's a BSO activity. It's all been blurring together for quite a while now.
As for the talk, that is not my department but we will do a rehearsal on Wednesday evening so somehow this will be all worked out, I'm sure. I don't mind speaking in front of crowds but I need something to say. I suspect I will work the front table and maybe introduce the guys, then get out of everyone's way.
Which is fine.
In the meantime, over the weekend, my husband and I ran a 5K.
Oh. My. God.
Hotter than Hades. Slow. Grinding. Dirty.
My second-worst time. Ever.
Did not faint, did not feel like it, but I know my face was red and hot, which is the sign right before feeling faint. Yes, I had a ton of water with me. Didn't matter.
We drank and drank afterwards. There were pretzels there -- I totally did not even count them. Just grabbed, had to have the salt.
I am okay today but I have inner thigh (groin?) pain on both sides. I get this after running and hate it. I will need to get my act in gear in terms of some strength training for that area at some point. I understand that races give me pain the following day, and I accept that, but it's been a few days and it should be done now, so that is telling me I need to strength train more.
Plus -- and I'm not sure how I did this, although it may have been that I whacked my hand on a water bottle -- my left thumb has a lovely bump and pain. Some sort of jamming, I suppose.
This week, no race, just the rehearsal but before that I have a marketing thing and, in between, as the meat in the sandwich, I've got the phone screen with the place that is courting me.
Life is whizzing by and getting more and more confused. Good things are, for the most part, happening. I just wish I was more conscious of them.
Monday, July 12, 2010
I write almost every day these days. And if I don't, I read, about the Internet, about Social Media, about whatever I think will help me with work.
It sounds like homework.
It sounds like school.
It sounds like ... work.
But it's not, it's fun. It hasn't been a slog, at least not, so far. Instead, it's been more like, isn't that interesting, or, I knew that, but it's good to see it confirmed. Or, wow, cutting edge!
So, I am having fun. I've stepped back from all of the appearances in order to make it easier to accomplish all of this reading and writing. Plus, I really went over on hours last month. That cannot continue, so it's best for me to hold back.
And -- don't tell anyone -- but we're working on a big promotional event kinda, er, thingie.
So I'm working on that.
Read, write, work. Yep.
That's what I do.
Oh and work out and stuff. I am here on Spark for a reason, dontcha know.
But the lion's share of my time is devoted to the big three of reading, writing and working (that third one includes things like web design). But --
If you must return it, you can send it here.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Man, oh man, it's hot in here.
And my boss is coming over tomorrow to work, after his, er, day job. We'll probably stay in this room, the computer room, as it has an air conditioner in the window. No other windows have a/c in them, at least not right now.
It is a hot and dusty business to put the a/c unit in so I don't blame Mr. J for not doing more than one. That's fine. So far, we've been able to sleep at night. So, no worries. I do, though, wonder how the three of us will have dinner tomorrow night if we end up staying in here. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. It's not like da boss's apartment is going to be significantly cooler.
Oof. I am usually cold, so if even I am hot, it means it's pretty bad. It's 91 according to Weather Bug.
So -- there is more to tell. I am being courted by a company which does Community Management as their main focus.
What? You ask. Don't you already have a job, jes?
Why yes, yes I do. And I am happy with it.
But it is a startup.
Hence if I want to make any $$ -- at least for a while -- I need to cultivate my own day job. My pals do want to hire me (yay!) but the timing is off. It'll get there. It's just not there quite yet.
Hence I need to continue looking.
Plus I need to continue looking in order to satisfying the Commonwealth, which is still graciously paying me Unemployment.
I need to call them tomorrow and assure them that, yes, I am actually still unemployed (or rather underemployed). I am nervous about this, don't want to upset the delicate balance.
Oof, not fun, and the heat is making me feel bad which is making everything else loom larger. I recognize that it is going to be okay but, eh, I do not enjoy dealing with bureaucracy.
This is also why I want to stay with my pals. There is no bureaucracy. Or, rather, I suppose, we are it. So we can make it anything we want, as small or as large as necessary. Small, very small. That'll work for me.
In the meantime, workouts are still somewhat sparse but they are happening. Every morning is weight training and resistance bands, the question is whether anything else happens. Sometimes things don't happen because I have events and whatnot and it's too much of a rigamarole to shower and get all dolled up again afterwards. This is one major goal for July, to go to fewer events and focus them far better. Right now, aside from meeting the gal with the Community Management company, I am looking at 8 events plus a hair appointment and a 5K this month. I may sign up for one or two more events but that'll do me, I think.
Long as there's air conditioning.
Monday, June 28, 2010
My parents just left. They visit here maybe once or twice per year or so.
And ... I have to be the bigger person.
It is not bad. No, not really. No, no.
But it -- eh, you know -- the dynamic does not change and now, as they get older, I find I lace it with considerably more guilt than I did when I was in my twenties and thirties. Here they are, staring eighty in the face, and I am staring at fifty, and guilt just pushes up, like some unwanted, demented weed.
I think some of it, on my part, is the heat. And PMS. And the routine being disrupted, even though I invited them in. Of course this wasn't unexpected. But we, y'know, we have our routines. Our routines differ from what they were a few years ago but we still have them, and want to follow them.
Oh and another thing is that I've had a boatload of restaurant meals and very little exercise. Yeah, that'll add to it all.
And then -- oof -- politics.
I gotta say, I truly hate talking politics. I am online a lot, and it is a large topic of conversation on the site that I manage, and I mainly steer clear.
Include me out.
And, of course, that was dredged up this morning. Why don't you care? Why aren't you more active? Yadda yadda yadda.
I do care -- I just don't want to rehash it. The world's problems aren't going to get solved here. All we're going to do is piss one another off. Enough, already!
Gaaah, just listen. I'm starting subtly, I'm being ignored. I get more vocal, I'm being ignored. Finally I out and out say -- I.Don't.Want.To.Talk.About.This.And.Please
Okay, now it stops, but not before a last, parting word.
God. Just quit it.
This is done less than an hour before they depart, hence it not only looms large in my head but also helps to color the visit.
And, neither do they. Life isn't all sweetness and light, and I am totally okay with that, but just let the damned thing go for a weekend.
We went to Maine over the weekend. World's fastest LL Bean shopping spree. I was a whirling dervish. Inexplicably, I was only given 20 minutes. I actually got 4 things, tried them on (there was a 5th that fit but I didn't like how it looked on me, so I threw it back) and purchased them. I should submit that to the Guinness Book of World Records or something. Tank top, shorts, pair of jeans and a yellow hoodie. Right now I'm wearing the 1st 2 as it is pushing 90 degrees here.
So ... that was the chief reason for going to Maine. Pretty scenery, to be sure. Something to do. I know they get bored silly at my house but what can I do? Mr. J works, I have blogging (I should say: I work, too!) and we don't give a damn about any movie that's out right now. Air conditioners are not in the windows although that could be changed if need be. Museums and restaurants aplenty here, plus scenery is not too far away.
But, it's getting harder and harder. For Mr. J and I, it is easier. It's almost like the ease has been sucked out of the earlier generation.
And, Maine. It has some emotional connections for me. Not just because I attended Summer camp there as a teenager. It's also the place where, in 2007, I almost fainted in monster heat. And I could tell, the thoughts were -- if you weren't so goddamned fat you wouldn't be in this predicament.
Well, I was. I was goddamned fat.
I'm not any more. And I talk about it plenty, but I am also a bit tired of that as well. Not as sick of it as I am of politics and, no, I am not sick of you, fellow Sparkies.
But I am tired of what is the internal dialogue. The one where I say, well, I used to be this way. I'm not any more.
I need to let that go. It's done. It's over with. Can it come back? It's certainly possible. The chiefly annoying and unfair thing about weight loss is that it never really ends, you never really stop and you can never really slide without major massive freakin' consequences.
I don't think my parents are watching me, eagle-eyed, to see if I'll fall. There are people who do (those people should occupy one of the seven circles of Hell after death, so far as I'm concerned). There are folk who mentally rub their hands with glee.
Oh, I TOLD you she couldn't do it. Stupid fat girl. Never thin for long. Always fat, already fat again, don't let that appearance fool you! She can't be this way permanently. Leopard, spots, you know the drill.
I guess this post is a real downer, and I'm sorry about that. I am, yep, there's that ole guilt again. Why am I complaining about this?
But, bottom line, it is also my own fears bubbling up to the surface. It is also seeing thirty years into the future. Who do I want to be? The one who still walks every morning, or the one having trouble getting up off the couch? The one who climbs stairs with no problem, or the one who huffs during the ordeal?
So, it is guilt. It is imagination. It is fear. It is some sorrow, knowing what was before. And can never be again. And I know what is coming, the hard decisions that will have to be made. I fear I will not have the courage to make them.
Hence, if I leave with you with any takeaway today, what I can say (and some of this is the heat talking -- oh, look, it's 90, oh joy) to you is the following:
Perpetual dieting sucks.
Parking far away when you just want to be closer sucks.
Drinking water all the time sucks.
Cardio, whether you want to do it or not, sucks.
But not doing those things sucks even more.
And at some point, I hope you all live long enough, and you'll see the consequences, one way or the other.
Extreme old age sucks.
All we can do is make it a long time before we're in extreme old age, regardless of our true birth dates. And, when it does come, to make it suck as little as possible.
Thanks for reading. I suspect I'll be more cheerful next week.
Monday, June 21, 2010
I think the first time I became aware of what my body could and can do, I was probably about three or so. I was in a high chair. I had finished all of the cereal but not the milk so my mother poured the milk into a plastic cup. There were, naturally, little pieces of cereal floating around in there. This sufficiently bothered me that I threw the cup across the kitchen.
And so began my twin love affairs, with food issues and body issues.
Then there were my school years. I was not a heavy child but I was also not particularly coordinated, either. I came from a family where you didn't play sports because that's what the tradespeople's children did and we (my brother and I) were going to college so we were told that we didn't need such things.
As a result, and despite playing with friends when I was a child, I had a basic grasp of the rules of baseball and I knew that for basketball you were supposed to get the ball into the hoop and that about covered it. I recall going to a Flyers game with my family when I was 9 (we lived just outside of Philly then) and it was way, way, way up in the old Spectrum and when it was my turn with the binoculars I didn't follow the puck around and instead I just tried to pick out cute guys, either on the ice or in the stands.
As a result -- and our moving to Long Island right before I started 6th grade didn't help one iota -- I was always, and I mean ALWAYS chosen last for sports. This was the 60s and 70s, it was the era of "make the best athletes AKA gym teachers' pets the captains and let them choose the teams so that they can inevitably select all their friends first and then look the rest of us over like pieces of meat". See: Janis Ian.
There was but one exception to this pattern. I was friends with a girl named Crystal who was kind of a tough girl. I'm not so sure why we were pals; we did not go to each others' homes, but we were friendly in a nodding, hey, how ya' doin' kind of way. I was a Drama Club and International Club girl, on the Honor Society. This was an era where girls were only just beginning to be able to take shop. Crystal was, like I said, kind of tough.
We had a girls' gym class together, and it was divided into quarters. It was the Spring quarter of our Senior Year. I had been accepted to more than one college and had made my choice. Crystal, I think, was headed for a community college and probably out to work. But it was Spring quarter, and I digress. The unit was basketball, and we all knew the Janis Ian song, "At Seventeen". Well, I was sixteen but hey, close enough. The gym teacher decided on a round robin tournament. We'd have a half a dozen teams and no subs. We'd just play each other; team 1 would play team 6, then they'd play team 5 or whatever.
For some reason, Crystal the tough girl was chosen to be a captain. I suppose the gym teacher ran out of pets. Girls were being picked. I was, as per usual, waiting with the leavings. Fourth round out of five. Crystal scanned the remainders and found me. And, she picked me!
I could scarcely believe it. I was not the last one chosen.
Now, we did not win a single game, I'll have you know. When it came down to the final week of the unit, even if we had won every single game, we'd've still been dead last. But we didn't care. We had fun. We joked around easily. We enjoyed each others' company. Yes, we played. We did get a workout in and we did try to win. But getting good at it was not in our plans. We were not there to do anything spectacular on the court.
I wish I could tell you that I had kept up with Crystal, but I didn't. We went our separate ways although we have reconnected on Facebook. I don't think she remembers quite what she did for me and I have not reminded her. I don't want to remind her -- I'm not quite sure why. *I* know what she did. And that's all that matters, I feel. It all happened, by the way, over 30 years ago.
While you are going along in your struggles, and it seems like things are so hard, and the deck is stacked against you, look around at the remainders, and look beyond the trappings and the facades. Help others like they have helped you, because underneath the scratched exterior, I know that you will find a beautiful crystal.
Get An Email Alert Each Time JESPAH Posts