T Minus 10 Days

Big, cross country move number 2 is now only 10 days away.  Also known as move number 5 in 3 and a half years.  To say the least, I'm really tired of this whole moving business.  No matter how well acclimated one is to moving, it's a stressful thing.  And one's excitement about the whole moving thing does nothing to relieve the stress that it can create. 

And it's becoming really obvious that I'm stressed out. 

This week has been exhausting, and it really shouldn't have.  When I woke up this morning, I heard my neighbors newspaper being delivered, and expected it was around the normal time of 5am.  Because that's the time it normally gets delivered.  I was shocked when I looked at my clock moments later to discover that it was 6:30am, and I had slept for nearly 10 hours last night.  And even now, after a huge cup of coffee (which, btw, always makes me grateful for my BFF, because she gave me the massive mug eons ago for Christmas) I am still feeling rather lethargic. 

It's one of those "I really need to get motivated to do something" days, and I just can't seem to get going.  Made even worse by the fact that I have many friends running 26.2 miles this weekend.  And I'll be lucky if I even run 2.6 miles. 

But I think I'm going to give myself a break on packing this weekend.  Pretty much from the moment I made the decision that I'm moving, I started packing.  And because I've done this so many times recently, it came really easy.  I knew exactly what order things should be packed in, and how to pack them so things don't get broken.  And before I realized it, 3/4 of my belongings were packed.  And sitting in boxes, taking up what little floor space I have left.  And 10 days might sound like I should get the rest of my stuff packed, but if I do that now, what will I do next weekend?  Besides, I'm not sure my tiny apartment could handle many more boxes at the moment.  And I do still have to live here for the next 10 days.  And the boxes have already been a hazard to my toes.  Currently, my apartment looks like this:

My Living Room/Bedroom.  You can almost see some of the floor.

My "Dining Room"

I've actually been really amazed at how much stuff I was able to cram into this tiny apartment. 

Anyway...10 more days.  I'm almost wishing that it was sooner, just so I could get this whole thing over with.  Being stressed out isn't something I enjoy (but seriously...who does???).  And I'm anxious to get started with my life in IL.  I have a lot to look forward to.  And beyond that, I've been eating like crap lately and just can't seem to stop eating like crap.  But once I get settled, I think it will be a little easier.  Getting back to a normal routine will be nice too. 

A while ago, I started a list of things that I'm not going to miss once I leave DC.  It was a pretty long list.  But it was also really negative.  And once I got through it, I just couldn't seem to post it because it was so ridiculously negative.  All of which makes me realize that I'm definitely making the right decision for myself about moving back home.  Things like rude bus drivers, and getting car sick while riding the bus, and air pollution, and sirens in the middle of the night, having the fire department called to my building twice in as many weeks because other people set their kitchens on fire, community laundry facilities...and The Beltway.  And I'll throw one in for my dad.  Dear Dad, my gift to you as I move home - You will (most likely) never have to drive around a DC traffic circle ever again. 

And there will be things that I'm going to miss.  For one, my friends here in DC.  It's heartbreaking to leave friends behind as you move, but I'm also looking forward to living much closer to a lot of my friends in IL.  And living 15 minutes from Whole Foods. 

A few weeks ago, I had to tell myself not to get too impatient, and to enjoy the last few weeks that I had in DC.  And I'm having to tell myself the same thing now.  Enjoy these last 10 days, because you will never get them back. 

So, I may get a workout in this weekend.  I may not.  But I will try to get out and do...something in DC.  Just because I can. 

The 40 Day Challenge - Day 12

12 days in, and I have not had a cookie, and I have not had any Peanut Butter.  Though every time I go to the grocery store, I longingly look at them as I walk past. 

But it's ok, because I have not caved.

So let's get to the really exciting part about my challenge...the new recipe's!  This has truly been amazing.  And I have absolutely loved every single one.  I've even tried the Sweet Potato with warm Black Bean Salad multiple times.  And it was just as good the second time as it was the first. 

This past Monday, my new recipe was Caramelized Onion and White Bean Flat Bread.  I cheated and used pre-made gluten free pizza crusts, but it was delicious.  And because I've been enjoying the whole new recipe thing, I've actually tried a couple more this week.  Yesterday, I found this great recipe from Whole Foods, their recipe of the day, Mushroom and Tomato Polenta.  Yum-yum.  And this morning, I tried a breakfast dish I saw on Pinterest, basically making an oatmeal...thingy...in a coffee cup in the microwave. 

Ok, so maybe I need a better description for stuff like that, because that doesn't sound appealing at all.  So let me re-phrase.  You take a quarter cup of dry oatmeal, and mix it with an egg, honey (though it was supposed to be brown sugar, but I threw away my brown sugar over the weekend because it was hard, and I'm not buying any new until after I move), cinnamon and a handful of blueberries.  Oh, and you're also supposed to add a splash of milk, but the only thing I had was some rice milk, which was sketchy at best...so I skipped that. 

But I promise, it tasted good.  The only problem was that I was hungry for lunch way early.  So in the future, it will need to be paired with something more filling. 

Ok, I'm a bit ramble-y today. 

So, let me be succinct.  I am loving this challenge.  Especially the new recipe thing, and plan on keeping that up long after the official 40 days are up! 

Comfort

I am sitting here, staring at my computer screen, willing myself NOT to buy 12 pairs of the comfy looking gaucho pants that I found on Target's website. 

As I was packing up part of my closet a couple of weeks ago, specifically, my shoe collection, it once again smacked me in the face (literally) that I am one of those girls that owns 15 pairs of sneakers, and 1 pair of high heels.  Ok, maybe 2.  And even when I do buy heels, I make sure that they are comfortable (yet stylish, as in my ridiculously cute AND comfortable red Mary Jane's...that I danced part of the night away at a friends wedding recently). 

As any single girl in her 30's should never admit, I fear the next statement being made public. 

Eh, what do I care.

I am hard pressed on the weekends, or rather, any hours I am not at work, to get out of sweatpants.  Workout hours not included.  I live for comfort.  I mean, what's the point of doing anything if you're not comfortable while you're doing it.  And I really only wear dress clothes to work because I am forced to.  Not because I really enjoy it.  I'm your jeans and a t-shirt girl, who even at age 30 will not give up my gold tooth pirate shirt, or Oscar the Grouch, or the crown jewel of my collection - Abe Lincoln the pirate.  Actually...in looking at my collection, one would think I have a thing for pirate's. 

Let's not get into the psychology of that. 

Anyway, my point here being - in two weeks, two tiny, short, weeks, I am no longer going to have a 9-5 job.  Which sounds fantastic.  But my concern is that I'm going to turn into a slob that wears nothing but sweatpants, and will also be highlighted on the People of Wal-Mart.  Because I'll be shopping at Wal-Mart now too.  Because that's the only option really when you live 50 miles from Target. 

So I'm sitting here, trying not to buy the gaucho's.  As I was so nicely reminded, I don't need to spend the money,  because for a while, I'm not going to know what my income is actually going to be like.  And I already have sweat pants, and access to a nice washer and dryer (not the crappy things in my current laundry room).  And I really don't need to buy them.  But I want them.  But I don't need them.

So I'm not going to buy them. 

I feel that I must redeem myself a little bit here.  I have already admitted that I don't really enjoy dressing up.  It's not really how I was raised - or more appropriately - my mom would have loved dressing me in frilly clothes growing up, but it because obvious rather early on that I preferred making mud pies than getting all dolled up.  She didn't fight it.  But she did always make sure I was clean, and looked presentable. 

(I did mention this to my mom not that long ago, and she had no idea that looking like a hot mess and walking out the door was not acceptable, or that that was instilled in me growing up.  But even now, my pj's have to match, and I only on rare occasions will I even go outside without showering, and even then, it's only when I'm going out to work out.  And even though I'm wearing comfy clothing, I still make sure I look presentable.)

But anyway...redemption:

I've got some game when it comes to dressing up.  I mean, if I'm going to do it, let's do it right.  I own nice dresses.  I own cute, stylish (yet comfortable) shoes.  And I can dress up if the occasion calls for it. 

But I promise you that once the requirement for being dressed up is over, I would much rather go back to living in my comfy clothes. 

To be honest, I feel like I can be more productive if I'm comfortable, because who wants to be working diligently all day long, and uncomfortable at the same time.  Wouldn't you much rather be comfy AND productive? 

I'm looking forward to my lack of 9-5 lifestyle, and I'm already making plans (plans that MUST be followed through on) to keep myself busy.  But I think one of the things I'm most excited about is NOT getting dressed up every day, and schlepping to the office.

Ahhh...comfort. 

The 40 Day Challenge - Day 6

I am 6 days in.  I have not had a cookie.  And I have not had peanut butter.

But since I am allowing myself other dessert-y type things, I am totally jonesing for some chocolate cake right now. 

But I don't have any chocolate cake.  So I ate a banana. 

I mean, it's almost the same thing, right? 

Banana, chocolate cake, chocolate cake, banana.  Totally the same thing.  Oh, and it almost helps that I ate a piece of dark chocolate before I ate the banana.

But in all seriousness...the week hasn't been THAT difficult within the parameters of the challenge.  The new recipe that I tried on Monday (Meatless Monday, in fact) was delicious, and I already foresee this becoming a staple in my diet.  It was Eating Well's (via Cat) Sweet Potato with Warm Black Bean Salad.  With slight modifications, because I don't currently own Cardamon, and refuse to buy kitchen staples like that until I move, so I used Chili powder instead.  And instead of sour cream i used goat cheese.  Utterly delicious. 

Other than that, it's been a "meh" week.  I've been in a grumpy, cranky, I don't want to deal with people mood most of the week.  I mean, there have been some good moments.  But by and large...one big ugh.  And of course, when those moments hit, they only lead to more frustration and the smallest thing will frustrate me, or make me sad, or frankly, just piss me off.  Ok, so mother nature hates me. 

I also just realized today that I have 2 weeks left of work.  Two weeks!  That is not a lot.  And though I'm excited, really excited, now is the time when it's starting to hit that I'm moving in 2 weeks! 

Side note - it became apparent who does and does not read my blog, even when I post it for the world to see on facebook.  Apparently, it was still a state secret to many that I was moving half way across the country.  But I think I'm in too cranky of a mood to actually write about my feelings about that.  Because it's probably not as severe as I actually am perceiving it to be right now.  So maybe I'll wait to write about it next week. 

Anyway...the 40 day challenge continues. 

The next new recipe is also from Eating Well, Flat Bread with White Bean Puree and Caramelized Onions.  Again, with modifications for my genetically inferior self. But still, it sounds tasty. 

Be Happy!

I am one happy camper right now.  I am.  I'm not bragging...just stating facts.  OK, so maybe, just maybe, it has something to do with moving, and the fact that I'm ridiculously excited about that fact.  Just a hunch on that one.  And at the same time, I feel like I should be...I don't know...sad, or something, about leaving DC.  And I'm going to miss my friends and everything.  But the sadness about that whole situation hasn't really hit me yet. 

That being said, it seems lately that I've gotten more emotionally invested in really sad stories in the news.  And for this, I blame my 108 year old neighbor.  Bear with me here.  I have a very sweet, elderly (obviously, since I call her my 108 year old neighbor, though I don't actually know her age) neighbor, who was pretty much the first person I met in my building.  Like, the day I moved in.  I introduced myself, she introduced herself.  She told me that she used to live in my apartment, and how it's such a nice efficiency. 

Since this initial encounter, I have subsequently been re-introduced to her many times, on an almost bi-weekly basis.  And a couple of weeks ago, on a weekend morning (granted it had been more than the usual 2 weeks since I had seen her), after living just down the hall for 11 months, yes, she introduced herself to me.  Like we'd never met before.  Most often, I've chosen to have a little chuckle about this, her being my cute, 108 year old neighbor.  But this last time really affected me.  Maybe it's all of the other stuff that I have going on in my life right now.  Or maybe I can't be as happy as I am without feeling some pang of sadness.  Whatever it is...this latest re-introduction made me sad.  I know that she's suffering from some type of dementia, or Alzheimer's - the cruelest of all getting old diseases, and for that, I just couldn't laugh this time.  Because that sealed the deal.  That made whatever disease is affecting her mind real to me. 

And since that time, I've been sucked in to news stories that might not have caught my eye previously.  Most recently, it's been a story about 2 identical twins who were found dead in their house, with no known family members.  And even more sad, it appears that they died within moments of one another.  Most likely because one of them died, and then the other just couldn't handle life without the other one.  They had lived a secluded life for many years, having no other close friend than the other twin.  They had no family.  And had gotten even more secluded in the past few months.  In fact, it was days before anyone even found them, and only then, it was because the police were kind enough to do a routine stop at their house to make sure everything was ok.  Well, this time, it wasn't.  Fortunately, the update today made me happy, because so many people who had also gotten sucked into the story had done research, and actually found family members for these two women.  So an almost happy ending there.

But beyond this, stories about school shootings, and trials of hate crimes, and hate crimes happening in my own home town...the home town I am moving back to...make me sad.  I know, and have known, for many years that the news often highlights the bad things that happen.  Because apparently stories that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside don't sell.  Apparently, drama sells.  Hate sells.  Death sells.  And apparently, Snooki being both pregnant *gasp* and engaged *gasp, gasp* are what really sells. 

Ok, so I haven't been sucked in to actually reading any of the stories about Snooki.  I just can't do it.  Seeing the headlines day after day after day just makes me sick.  As if a beach bum from Jersey being both pregnant and engaged is news worthy?  Is it really that rare of an occurrence?  If so...maybe THAT should be the story instead. 

And let's not even talk about the Republican primary's right now, or Rush Limbaugh...because my brain cells are more valuable that writing even more about two topics that have had more written about them than any of the other stories I've mentioned.  And that's fine, I have opinions...but my brain is tired of them both.

So what do I want?  Beyond just a chance to vent my frustration...let's just...be happy.  Let's talk about positive things.  Let's focus on something good that has happened.  Do something nice for someone.  It doesn't have to be anything big.  Sometimes, just asking if someone needs help is all that they need. 

Let me give you an example.  Last night, I decided it was a good idea to finally carry home some of the boxes I've been collecting in my office.  I had several, and they were getting in my way.  And I should probably fill them up this weekend anyway.  So I collected them, and put one box together, and put the rest in that box.  And let me add, I didn't have any real packing tape in my office...just your standard scotch tape.  I think you can probably guess where this story is going.  Let's just say, approximately 2 blocks from home, the box that was verging on coming apart came apart.  And as a result, all of the other boxes ended up on the sidewalk.  So I devised a new method that actually worked to keep all the boxes together...let's just say I should probably have an honorary Engineering degree for what I worked out.  Or at least a MacGuyver certificate.  But as I was being all mad and frustrated, collecting boxes...with other people not close, but...you know...around...and of course no one stopped.  And at that exact moment...just when I was wishing that someone cared...a woman pulled over and asked if I needed help.  I politely told her I didn't need help.  Because I didn't need her help.  What I did need, and what she gave me, was the knowledge that I wasn't alone. 

So, when, a block later, my MacGuyver certificate was momentarily yanked back when all of the boxes once again ended up on the ground, I didn't feel so bad. 

And then, when one of my building mates almost locked me out of the building, because he didn't notice I was right behind him.  With a massive amount of boxes.  He seemed genuinely upset that he wasn't polite, and held the door open for me. 

Lately, this has been a good reminder that people can actually be genuinely good.  And it's been nice to see.  And I think in a world where so much negative abounds - it's nice to see someone do something positive.  And pass it on. 

The 40 Day Challenge - Day 1

I'm going to do it.  I'm going to do something for 40 days.  But it's going to be more than just giving something up for 40 days.  My goal in this...project...if you will...is to do something for myself, that is going to be a benefit both to my physical health, and my mental well being.  So I will be giving something up, but I'll also be doing something for myself as well.  

So, the parameters are:

1) No cookies and/or Peanut Butter - Both of these are trigger foods that once I start eating, I don't stop eating them.  Most of the time.  And they are both things that I love.

2) At least once a week, try a new, healthy recipe - This is going to be a lot of fun.  I love food, and I love looking through recipes, and doing research.  Plus, the added bonus of changing things up in the food department.  Realistically, this is something that needed to happen anyway, and was already considering doing, just not on such a "strict" basis.

3) Meatless Mondays! - I grew up eating really good meat.  Meat that I had seen raised myself.  And as an adult, I do love a good steak.  But at the same time, I've also went through periods where I just couldn't stomach a piece of meat, or even the thought of eating a piece of meat.  As a result, I spent 6 months being a mostly vegetarian, and loved it.  But then I got yelled at by my nutritionist because I wasn't eating enough protein.  So I still love meat, but I think feeding my inner vegetarian at least once a week is a good idea. 

I'm excited about this new challenge, and am hopeful in the next few weeks of insanity, things won't fall off the deep end.  And it's not like I won't be able to indulge myself at all.  I mean...I can still eat ice cream...so I think I'll be ok there.  At least I hope so.  I even have my first new recipe all picked out thanks to my friend Cat - Sweet Potatoes with Warm Black Bean Salad.  I've been wanting to try this one since I first read about it.  And...bonus! It helps satisfy 2 of my parameters!!!  As long as I don't have cookies for desert, I'll be good to go!  

I had a weird dream last night.  And I'm 50/50 about whether or not I remember the dream or not.  But at least part of the dream I do remember.  I was swimming in a pool, and people kept swimming in my lane, and getting in my way.  And then at the end of the dream, the water was draining out, so by the time I got to the end of the lane, I couldn't swim any more because the water was so shallow.  Now, I don't do this all the time when I remember a dream, but the ones that really stick out to me, I do.  I look up what the dream interpretation can mean.  My BFF has helped with this, but often I just look it up online.  Most of the time, stuff like this wouldn't mean that much to me.  I'm not really into horoscopes or anything, but every single time I do read the interpretation for my dream, it really resonates with what is going on in my life - so I do give it some credit.  

According to DreamMoods.com seeing a swimming pool in your dream means:

Swimming Pool
To see a swimming pool in your dream symbolizes relaxation, calmness, luxury and ease. You need to take a break. Alternatively, a swimming pool suggests that you need to acknowledge and understand your feelings. It is time to dive in and deal with those emotions. You need to cleanse yourself and wash away past hurts. Consider the depth of the pool. If you were swimming on the deep end, then it means that those emotions are deeply seeded and may be harder to confront.. You will need to work through it, no more matter how difficult. If you are swimming on the shallow end, then it implies that you should be able to easily deal with your feelings.

See what I mean about resonating with me?  I do need a break.  And I do feel the need for a cleansing.  And oddly enough, without realizing it, I've been trying to do that in my day to day life anyway.  It's not that I don't shower, because I do at least once a day.  But lately, I've felt the need to just do an extra good job at it.  Partly because I've been packing, and am incredibly dirty by the time I get done.  And part of it...well...it just makes me feel good.  

Now, because I was also actually swimming in the pool, we can look at:

Swimming
To dream that you are swimming suggests that you are exploring aspects of your unconscious mind and emotions. The dream may be a sign that you are seeking some sort of emotional support. It is a common dream image for people going through therapy.

So, I'm not going through therapy right at the moment.  But part of this still resonates with me.  Lately, I've been talking to one of my friends especially about what is going on in my life, with moving half way across the country, and taking on a job that is a completely new adventure.  And though she's excited for me, and could not be happier that I'm doing what I really want to be doing, and living where I want to live, she's also sad that I'm leaving.  We see each other almost every single day, and it's just going to be a big change.  And I get that.  And I know at some point, it's probably going to just smack me in the face that I'm not going to see her every day, and at that point, I'm going to be sad too.  Not that I don't realize the changes that are going to be happening.  But at the moment, I am so ecstatic about the move, and the new job, that those emotions just haven't showed up yet.  And it feels a little weird that I'm not really sad at all about leaving DC...which to me truly means that I have made the right decision.  It's almost like I'm in a euphoric state when I think about moving.  And at some point, I'm sure I'm going to have a bit of an adrenaline crash about the whole thing.  Who knows when that is going to happen.  But I'm positive it will.  And I think my unconscious brain is trying to tell me that I need to be prepared for that to happen.  Or maybe my  brain is already starting down that path.   Or maybe I feel like I should be slightly less euphoric, and a little more sad about leaving.  Who knows.  But something is definitely nagging me a little.  

That was definitely a bit of a side track.  But at the same time, it all resonates to the same thing.  I need to kick things up a little, make even some slight changes.  Hence...perfect timing for my 40 day challenge.  

Oh, I didn't mention one of my other goals about the challenge.  To write about what's going on.  And write often.  Maybe not every day.  But write about it.  How I'm feeling, how is it going.  Remember how I feel.  So check back, check in, and please, don't give me a cookie :) 

 

40 Days

I am not Catholic now, nor was I raised Catholic.  So I have never given anything up for Lent.  I was, however, raised in a Catholic community, where conversations about what you were giving up for Lent were commonplace.  Considering my family didn't participate in this practice, nor did any of my close friends, I never really paid much attention to what it was, or why they were giving something up that they so dearly loved.  And, of course, no meat (except fish) on Fridays. 

But the true history of Lent has a much deeper meaning, and according to the Catholic Encyclopedia, Lent is a time of fasting (typically from something one considers a luxury) and an opportunity to grow closer to God.  My thought about 7th Graders giving something up for Lent is that it's more of a custom or tradition, and these kids are likely going to miss the big picture here, and aren't going to spend a whole lot of time considering how they are growing closer to God.  I'm not saying it's not possible...it's just not likely. 

And again, not having a lot of Catholic friends, I haven't honestly given Lent, and giving something up, much thought over the past 10 years or so.

It wasn't until recently that my mind came back to this topic.  A few of my friends had posted on Facebook about Lent, etc.  But it was another friends comment that really got my mind spinning.  And it's likely that the reason is that the comment came from a different angle.  It was more along the lines of "doing something for 40 days."

Other than normal, bodily functions (like breathing, eating, sleeping, blinking) have I ever done anything for 40 days straight? 

The answer?  No.  Not with purpose. 

So over the past week, I've been mulling over the idea of either doing something for 40 days, or giving something up for 40 days.  Or maybe even doing both.  And if so, what is it going to mean to me.  I'm still not Catholic, and I don't plan on converting.  And what would I choose to do and give up for 40 days?  Work out 40 days in a row?  Go 40 days without eating a cookie? 

I have historically been a person that gives myself guidelines to follow (eat healthy, do not buy peanut butter, do not buy cookies, get up early every day and work out) but I've also frequently succumbed to "life happens" and fallen off the wagon faster than a gun drawn at the OK Corral.  I just try to do well one single day.  And then the next day, try to do well that day too.  And if life happens, well, life happens.  Try to do well again tomorrow. 

But the idea of doing a 40 day challenge is intriguing to me.  Obviously, I wouldn't be aligning my challenge with the actual Lent dates, and I'm not even using the opportunity to get closer to God as a reason (though if it happens, kudos!), but the more I think about the idea, the more I like it.

So, dear readers, especially you Catholics out there...I want more information.  What do you often choose to give up?  What does this mean to you?  Please, share your stories.  Because right now, I'm not sure I'm even going to do this, and I'm definitely not sure that attempting such a feat in the middle of a cross country move is the right time.  But I'm intrigued, and I might just give it a shot.  Maybe now is the perfect time.

Almost Thursday 13

1) There is a problem when you are responsible for only cooking for yourself.  At least I have a problem.  I make the same thing ALL THE TIME.  Literally, every week, I "grill" an entire package of chicken.  Made a batch of rice.  And continue to eat that for the rest of the week.  It's getting boring, and it's showing.  I've been much more willing to cheat on my "diet" and I'm sure this is one huge reason why.

2) Please send any healthy recipe's you might have, or think I might enjoy.  That are easily made for 1, or are good as leftover.

3) Moving stinks.  Boxes are everywhere, and my body is covered head to toe in bruises that I got from packing.

4) Ok, some of the bruises are from hitting one of the desk supports underneath my desk. Which I might have done 3 times.  Within 2 hours. 

5) My dear old friend insomnia seems to be back.  Last week I thought it was just because I was sick.  But I woke up at 2am today, and could not get back to sleep.  Ugh.

6)  I'm really excited about moving!

7) I'm even more excited by all of the wonderful comments, and excitement I'm getting from my friends.  Especially the ones I'll be living near again.

8) Yes, living a mere 95 miles from my BFF, who I haven't lived that close to in, oh, 12+ years is at the top of my excitement list.

9)  That, and having an actual bedroom.

10) I'm already planning my Cardinal's baseball viewing schedule.  There is 3 and a half years that need to be made up for.

11) Ok, so it's technically only been a year since I've seen the Cards play, but they were in DC.  Not Busch Stadium.  It's just not the same.

12) Nerd alert: I'm reading Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose, which talks about Merriwether Lewis and my Revolutionary War crush Thomas Jefferson...and this morning I read a chapter about how long it took just to communicate with people across the country, and how long it took to travel from place to place.  For example, from DC (Washington City) to St. Louis (the Mississippi River) took months back in the day.  It's now a 2 hour plane ride.  And a letter would take 6 weeks to cross that distance, and now, I can email, phone, instant message, text message, or whatever else instantly.  And though I wouldn't trade any of my modern conveniences (ok, some I would willingly give up) I think it would be cool to live in that era...if only temporarily.

13) I want a new, more comfortable couch.  But will be stuck with my current one for a while.  It's a good thing I have learned some patience over the years. :)

Moving

First of all, for those of you that are just now hearing for the first time, I apologize for the delay, but getting things straightened out at work precluded me from doing a large Facebook announcement.  And the past couple of weeks have been a little busy.  So...here goes!

As of March 27, I will once again be an IL resident. 

This isn't a decision that has come lightly, or without a lot of planning.  Realistically, the decision has been coming for the past year or so.  And I am really excited about the possibilities.  I'll be leaving my current job, and will becoming an independent contractor for the same company.  So all of the traveling I've been doing the past 3 years will still be there, if anything, I'll probably be traveling more.  But I won't have the same job responsibilities on top of what I'm doing while I travel.  So that will definitely be nice.  And in addition to that, I'll get to set my own schedule.  Which...let's face it...is awesome. 

Never fear DC friends, I'll be having a going away party before I leave so I can see all of you one more time.  And I'll definitely be coming back to visit.  And of course, I'll be in Cedar Point in September.  So you won't get THAT much of an opportunity to miss me.

In the entire process of getting things ready to move, there are some pretty funny things I have come across.

1.)  I'll be moving from Connecticut Ave in Washington, DC to a rural route address in Southern IL.  To be honest, I can't think of 2 more different addresses.  And at the same time, I am so excited about it.

2.)  I'll be moving from a 350 square foot apartment to a 3 bedroom house with a full basement.  WAHOO!!  Yes, Cedric gets his own room.

3.) This will be my fifth...yes 5!...move in the past 3 and a half years.  And hopefully my last for a very, very long time.  I have clearly gotten too good at packing, because this past weekend, I packed over 3/4 of my stuff in less than 2 days, and didn't have to think twice about what needed to be done.  

4.) I have to buy a car.  And insurance.  Granted, my dad has been an amazing support through the whole process.  But it seems a little surreal. 

Though this has been coming for a while, the whole thing seems to be happening very fast.  But I absolutely cannot wait.  I'll definitely be keeping you updated on the progress, and in the mean time, I'll try to post some photos of the disaster that my apartment is going to be over the next month.

Wish me luck!

The Grill

There are few things in my life that I choose to spend an extravagant amount of money on.  Of course, my hobby is one of the more expensive ones, and I'm always spending what little extra cash I have on triathlon.  And, well, the remainder of my mad money is typically spent on food. 

At least I have my priorities straight.

And when I think about the stuff that I want for my life, I don't need extravagance.  When I can (hopefully soon) purchase a car, I'm probably going to buy a Ford Focus.  I buy a majority of my clothes at Target.  And in general, I'm not a high maintenance, must spend money for status as opposed to quality type of girl.

In most cases, that is. 

As mentioned in previous posts, I've been mentally re-decorating the house that I currently don't live in.  And I've been thinking about the things that I want to put in this house.  And when I think about the things that I've been living without while apartment dwelling in DC the past 2 and a half years, the thing I miss the most is a grill.  Food cooked with fire.  To me, there is absolutely nothing better in the entire world.  And I've eaten some pretty good food. 

So I have decided, no matter what it takes, I'm buying top of the line, can make food for 50 people, grill.  And it will be amazing. 

Say it's nature or nurture, whatever it is...I come from a grilling family.  In fact, when it comes to buying my dad presents, you buy the man tools or something to do with grilling.  We Hooks' make entire meals on the grill.  Pizza and french fries and baked beans, all cooked on the grill. 

So while the Dad and I were shopping for work gloves (me) and screws, drill bit, etc (dad) on Monday at Lowe's we spent an large amount of time drooling over the grill selections, determining which ones would work best, and fit the needs that we have for grilling.  And of course, all of the fun gadgets and tools that they have to accompany the grills.  In fact, the Dad got a sweet new LED light that attaches to the handle of your grill so you can see the food your cooking as you grill at night.  When I get a grill of my own, that light is going to be a must have. 

I can almost taste it right now.  Fresh, homemade, the cow was alive 3 days ago hamburgers.  Please excuse me while I wipe the drool from my face. 

The Travel Chronicles: Volume 1

Greetings from The Sunshine State!  As many of you know, I travel frequently.  And it has been mentioned to me before that I should write about some of my adventures.  So in a yet to be determined number of entries, I present a mini-series in the adventures of a young, female, single, business traveler. 

Prompted by something that happened at the end of my flight yesterday, we are going to start this mini-series with men. 

Depending on what airport you travel from, to or through, you're going to come a cross just about any specific type of traveler.  You have your George Clooney-esque (a la Up in the Air) business men (who typically provide some of the most entertainment, if only because they're really all the same man in a different body.  You have your families traveling to whatever destination vacation of their choice.  If you fly through MCO (Orlando) they will inevitably be dressed in some form of Disney character t-shirts, and 9 times out of 10, someone in the group is wearing Mickey ears.  If you're out west, you're going to have the random guy(s) with a mullet (yes, they really do still exist).  And if you're going through NY, Newark, or Boston, you're going to have a cluster f#%$ of really loud, annoying people. 

But as I said before, this go-round, we're focusing on men. 

Maybe I give guys too much credit, but I would think most people, males especially, would be more...well...with it...when they travel.  In the past month, I have had to remind a guy that his suitcase was still sitting at the end of the screening belt after going through security, directed 2 guys to a bathroom that was directly in front of them, and laughed at a guy sitting next to me for reasons we shall soon get to.  But this has made me realize that we womens need to take care of the men.  Even if they're only in our lives as fellow travelers. 

I'm a nice person.  And I've made my career out of talking to people.  So when I travel (unless you catch me on a morning when I haven't drank enough coffee) I try to be a nice, friendly person.  I talk to anyone.  But what has happened several times (too numerous to count, actually) is I'll be talking to a guy who just happens to be standing next to me in line to get on the plane, or sitting next to me on the plane, or wherever we happen to be.  They just happen to be the person next to me at the time.  I can't help it that they're male, and I'm female.  Or that I'm a single female to boot.  So I'm just going to put this out there:

I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MARRIED.  I'M NOT HITTING ON YOU.  If we are having a conversation, it's more because I'm trying to pass the time, than to make a pass at you. 

Yesterday, when I finally got to my seat on the plane, the guy sitting next to me seemed friendly enough.  We chatted just a little bit before take off.  He threatened to start crying once the plane took off.  I threatened to punch him if he did.  It was banter.  It was not flirting (though I admit that there is occasionally a fine line between the two).  As we landed (no crying or punching during the flight, he worked, I read) we again made some small talk.  I did the standard "are you from here or here for work?"  And he hesitated before answering..."I'm here with a...uh...friend...and their family.  A...uh...mm...uh...(whisper) female...uh...friend." 

Me:  "Oh nice, vacation."  But what I really wanted to say is "do you really think I care you have a girlfriend?"  Good for you, would you like a cookie? 

I admit, perhaps he just didn't know what to think about the relationship, and doesn't know what term to call her.  But my guess is that if you're on vacation with her AND her family, it's at least got to be fairly serious.  No need to hide it.

Speaking of hiding things.  I'm an observant person.  I like to people watch when I travel.  It's one of the ways to pass the time and offset the impending boredom.  And I notice things...like wedding rings, jewelry of any kind really, what people are wearing, shoes, bags, etc..  Especially of guys having loud conversations around me.  So, when I happen to be the one next to you in line, and strike up a conversation, it's fairly obvious what you're trying to do when you keep that left hand cemented in your pocket.  Even when it becomes awkward, like walking forward, or handing the person scanning tickets your ticket with your right hand, while that left hand still remains in your pocket is awkward.  Again, you are not hiding anything. 

Now, maybe it's the fact that the male species needs a bit of an ego boost.  Or something like that.  To think that even though they're not single, some cute, single girl is talking to them.  And *gasp* possibly interested in them.  Or whatever the reason may be.  It doesn't matter.   The fact remains the same, I'm just a friendly person, looking the pass the time.  Not looking for a romp in the airport hay. 

So there you have it folks.  Boys (men, though if you continue the childish behavior seen above, I will continue to call you boys) take note.  And everyone, stay tuned for the next installment. 

Guilty Pleasures

This week, I spent 4 days doing nothing but lay on the couch.  And for a little excitement in my life, I would occasionally lay on my bed.  Watching trashy day time TV.  But hey, when you're sick, what else are you going to do?  One afternoon, I was watching The Chew on ABC, and the entire show was dedicated to guilty pleasures.  At the time, it was rather entertaining to watch the 4 goof ball hosts laugh about their secret guilty pleasures, including a fried egg and bologna sandwich, Judge Judy, and ironing. 

Though it really didn't resonate at the time (my mind being a little befuddled with illness), the concept eventually got me thinking about what my guilty pleasures are. 

My first thought was coffee.  But then I realized, I don't really feel guilty about drinking coffee.  In fact, I would say that it's necessary for me (though I did go without coffee while sick).  The me you all know and love does not exist without coffee.  But I know I'm not alone in this either.

So then I got down to business, and started listing what my real guilty pleasures are.

1) Spoon + Jar of PB + Jar of Strawberry Jelly.  - Allow me to sit down with this combination, and I will be one happy camper.  Because it's also a ridiculous amount of calories, and tends to leave me feeling less than stellar, this doesn't happen that often.  But when it does...mm mm mm mm mm.

2) Watching cable TV - when I'm traveling only, because I don't have cable of any sort at home.  I will sit in my hotel room for hours on end (because, let's face it, I often don't get sent to great destinations) and watch marathons of crappy TV.  USA and the Food Network are by far my faves.  Ok, so when I'm home, my antenna does have ION, which also is a good substitute for real cable channels. 

3) Laying in bed.  Ok, I'm not talking about the doing nothing but laying in bed for 4 days straight, incapable of doing nothing else (like this week).  Every morning, when my alarm goes off, I hit snooze a couple of times, and many mornings, I'll just stay in bed.  Now that I'm not currently doing 2 a day works outs, this has been happening a lot lately.  I stay in bed, and enjoy the warmth, and fantasize about a number of different things.  Occasionally, I'll think of all of the wonderful things I could accomplish if I called in sick that day.  Or how I want to redecorate my house (that I don't currently live in).  Or what I want for my future.  Or what groceries I need to buy, or what food I want to make soon.  It's typically a random assortment of topics that pass through my brain, but it's really just my favorite time of day.  Before I get up and shower and head to work, because my fantasy about calling in that day never seems possible unless I'm actually sick.  And I walk around my tiny studio apartment, and stub my toes, elbows, or whatever other body part sticks out, and wishing that I was living in a much larger home. 

There are probably a multitude of other things, mainly foods that I rarely allow myself to eat (including a grilled goat cheese sandwich, bacon, pie, and chocolate cake).  But those listed above are really what does it for me. 

So...what is your guilty pleasure?

Writing It All Down

I am a writer.  Not that I get paid to do so.  But I'm a writer.  Obviously, you're reading something I've written right now.  Some things I write to share with other people, some things I write just to get it out of my head, and them immediately wish I could burn it...never to think about that thing ever again.  Over the years, it's become a comfort to me.  And through my writing, I have gotten support, feedback, contradiction and compassion...none of which I would have received had I not written it down.

There are other aspects of my life that seem to be recorded for posterity...or other pursuits as well.  I write down what I eat to keep track of calories.  I (occasionally) write down how much money I spend to keep track of my budget.  But oddly enough, the one thing I haven't done well at is writing down how many miles I ran, rode, or swam.

My Grandma, yes, the crazy Grandma that roller skated down a huge hill, wrote everything down.  For years growing up, I was amazed at what she wrote down.  Every single day, she would write how many steps she would take, with the goal of being taking a certain number of steps every day for exercise.  And I'm not just talking about the times she actually went for a walk, the woman included the steps she took to go to the bathroom, or out to the kitchen.   EVERY SINGLE STEP.  Beyond her exercise goals, she still wrote everything down.  Of course, she and my grandpa came from the era where most of their courtship was handled from letters.  Unfortunately, we'll never know her side of the story, because after my grandpa wanted her to throw out his letters, she did the exact opposite.  She stashed his letters away, and burned her own.  This is one of the most unfortunate things I can imagine, because there was one afternoon growing up that my family sat down (sans grandparents) and read my grandpa's letters.  It's the hardest I ever remember laughing.  Beyond that, it's the hardest I ever remember my dad laughing growing up (which is saying something if you know my dad).  To date, there are still journals of my grandma's that my parents refer back to when the need arises to know when a certain cousin's birthday is, or when some other significant life event happened.  Even when they built the house in Florida, my grandma wrote down every single thing they paid for, and how much it cost.  Looking back, it may not all be relevant to life today, but, it's still interesting.  It's like a history lesson.  Ok, it's not like a history lesson.  It IS a history lesson.

So...what is my point here?  Some would say that I write a lot of stuff about my life down.  And I do.  But I think I could do better.  I'm not about to start recording every single step that I take a day, or writing a daily journal of what I do.  But something I have found helpful is to be able to quantify what I have done.  Maybe if I had recorded how many laps I had swam last year, I would have been prompted to take action about quantity there before.  Or knowing how many miles I've ran to train for a marathon.  It doesn't matter if I share it with anyone, but it may actually help to keep track, keep myself accountable for what I do.  So I've tried to do...better...this year so far about recording what workouts I've done when.  So maybe, by the time September rolls around, and I (keeping all fingers, toes, and all other appendages crossed) cross the finish line at Cedar Point, I'll be able to say...yes, today I crossed 140.6 miles today.  But x amount of miles is what the journey really included.  Or something prolific like that. 

I try not to dwell on the past very often.  It happened, it's done.  Let's move forward.  But my history, history in general is something that we carry with us no matter who we are, or where we go in life.  And there is something to be said that we can't really move forward until we know where we've been.  To put it another way, I've been down that path before, and it didn't work out so well, so why would I be crazy enough to do it again?  So every once in a while, I find it useful to take a look back, see where I've been, where I am now, and reflect on the journey to get from point A to point B.  I'm not the same person I was 10 years ago, I'm not even the same person I was a year ago.  There are definitely pieces that are much the same, but I've grown a lot.  Changed, some might even say.  But I do carry those pieces of me moving forward.  The written reminder just helps to remember it correctly. 

Salad Stylings

Hello, my name is Johanna, and I hate salad.

If you're trying to eat a healthy diet of food, salad has always been at the top of the list of things to eat.  And, of course, doctors have told us for many years that eating a lot of leafy green veggies is one of the keys to a successful healthy lifestyle. 

But here's the thing, I really just don't enjoy salad.  In all honestly, I probably never have, even way back to when I was a kid.  In fact, I remember one meal when I was at some buffet-type restaurant, and I loaded up my plate with a little bit of lettuce, and a lot of toppings.  As my dad was going through the line behind me, he even commented that I really wasn't putting a salad together, so much as a mixture of the yummy stuff.  (At the time, he probably phrased it quite differently, but the sentiment is still the same.)  Even now, I will eat whatever leafy greens make up the actual "salad" portion of the meal, and then leave the toppings for last.  It's nice to know that some things never change.

As I mentioned previously, if you're trying to eat healthy (like I do) salads are the staple food.  But also, when you happen to be genetically inferior like me (gluten AND dairy free...not just by choice) you are often relegated to the world of salads.  For example, last week, I was presenting at a school, and some of the directors wanted it go to lunch together.  Not knowing the city we were in, I was at a loss for what to suggest.  The executive director took over, and suggested an Italian restaurant.  I immediately prayed that actually had salad, because even if the standard salad comes with cheese, it's not a huge deal to request that it not come with cheese. 

But are you getting the idea that I'm fun to eat with?  Because it's a joy sometimes, and makes me feel ridiculously high maintenance.  Perhaps I should just wear a button that says "I'm not really high maintenance, it's just my GI track that is."  There have been many meals where I've had to order something like: I'd like a bowl of chili, but no cheese on that, and I'd like the grilled chicken sandwich without the bread.  Yes, just give me all the toppings, and the chicken, but not bread.  Or when the meal actually comes out: I'm sorry, the description on the menu didn't include that you poured an entire cup of cheese over the spinach, so I would really appreciate (and so would my traveling companions) if you could take that back to the kitchen, not spit in it, and bring it back dairy free.  Thanks!  Or even: I ordered the naked tenders, not the regular ones, so no, I'm not going to keep the thing that I didn't order, and yes, I'm going to cut your tip because you didn't pay attention to what I ordered, brought me the wrong thing, and then expected me to eat it anyway.  :)

So anyway, back to the scary Italian restaurant.  They did have salad, they actually had salad that didn't automatically come with cheese on it, thus my looking like an ass hat that doesn't like food was significantly reduced.  And I ate the salad.  There were even moments that I enjoyed what I was eating.  Admittedly, those were the moments when I was eating the toppings, but still...there were a few enjoyable bites in there.  And of course, I ate the entire thing because even at 2pm, I was aware that this would be my only chance to eat any amount of food of substance until after 10pm when I would get back home. 

I'm sure I can't be the only one out there that doesn't like salad.  I've admitted it, it took a long time to do so, but I did it.  And I would like to stand up and say that it's ok not to like salad.  It doesn't mean that I don't eat healthy.  But I'm more likely to eat tomatoes, avocado, bell peppers, and whatever other veggie I'm in the mood for sans lettuce, spinach, arugula or whatever leafy green you might throw my way.