Thursday, February 23, 2012

Stay Out

I usually stay away from politics on here. I'm not well versed enough on the issues so I leave it to those who actually care/are knowledgeable. I have little faith in anything changing, and yet immense faith that they ultimately have to change because really we can't be that stupid. Except I'm usually proven wrong and we are that stupid.

But lately? The Republicans are all up in my lady bits and that has to stop. That's something worth saying something about, even if I'm not the most well versed on the topic.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Not a Drop

I have not had a single drop of alcohol in a month. Not a drop. Not a sip of someone's drink at dinner. Not  a cocktail with dinner. Not wine alone at home. Nada. There may be some wine that cooked out of dinners we made or in meals that I ordered at restaurants, but other than that, nothing. And that doesn't exactly count.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Bits and Pieces

My dad did not run off to Vegas. He was forwarding a message from a friend, but I didn't get the "Fwd" part to recognize that. So. That was anticlimactic. But also a relief? (Sorry for not updating more quickly, Kathryn.)

I had a fantastic evening on my own at the beach house. Straight worthy of its own romcom montage, really. Totally enjoyable. But I am now cursing myself for not working out today. (Yes, I realize there is still time, but I have dinner plans and get back here plans and...)

Though! I DID apply to jobs today. Which is so sucktastic. Not the applying part, necessarily, because you sort of get excited about a new opportunity. But every site has its own form with its own boxes. It's death by a thousand paper cuts. Someone universalize that crap. I also decided to modify the game. I'm writing really honest cover letters. What got me my most real adult job was having the opportunity to show them who I was through words, why curb that to fit into some box of formal cover letter? You like me for that or you don't, but I'd rather risk it than be overly annoyed with this whole process.

I also had a friend IM me, "Hey, I just got out of a two hour meeting of how we're taking on NFL workers comp cases!" I immediately responded, "Hate you." To which person replied, "some interesting sports contract things came up, so I was thinking of you. You should contact the partners." Oh, you weren't just giving me the information to rub it in? Nice. Even when this person first mentioned it, I started geeking out on the rules of the CBA and how they handle players being cut. My brain started doing that warp speed thinking thing. I sorta love sports. It's one of the few things I do love.

In fact, my informational interview with fancy law firm managing partner guy last week involved us talking about hockey more than him telling me about himself, which is not really how informational interviews are supposed to go but, oh well. It was at his questioning, not my rambling.

Anyway, after great night by myself at the beach house, I had really weird dreams where I was encouraged to follow mine by the long term (totally made up, not real life) legal secretary at some big fancy firm telling me, "You should not be practicing law! You should be writing! What are you doing?!" Uhhh, I don't know?

I also had a dream where I behaved horribly and I was in that half awake/half asleep space for a minute where I was genuinely horrified at my behavior before waking up a bit more and reminding myself that it wasn't actually real and I didn't do what I had in my dream.

Basically: the subconscious is a weird place and I constantly wonder at what it digs up and why.

Anyway, that's the news from here. What's up in your world?

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Monday, February 13, 2012

Gym Going

I recently decided to get myself into a shape besides round. To just do it and shut up about it. So I spend vast amounts of time at the gym. Last week I got a little disheartened counting up all the minutes for the rest of my life I would need to spend at the gym to get in a shape other than round. And then I had sinus issues (rain, sun, rain, sun, wind in SF has wreaked havoc with allergies) so I ended up taking a week off from the gym for the first time since the new year. That was probably good for me, a little separation. I am not, however, gonna talk about the amazing health benefits of exercise. To each his own and I will not preachify on my amazing, still new, habits. (If I ever start talking to you about eating healthy and how great quinoa is, something I'm still loathe to completely do, buy me a cheeseburger and tell me to STFU.) What I AM gonna talk about is how horrific gym people are.

First of all, because I live in the biggest little city ever (not Reno, despite that being its motto), I regularly run into people I know at the gym. Nothing is more fun than sweating, attempting to stay upright on the elliptical while trying to make awkward chit chat with people you've known forever. Some people I don't mind running into, like this cop I've known since he was in the academy. Every person from high school ever? Yeah, not so much with the fun.

As for other types of gym people:

What is it with dudes at the gym? Why can no dude walk by a mirror without looking at himself? It seems as if they are physically incapable of passing by a reflective surface without taking a long look. Actually, I don't find gym dudes all that horrible just hysterically amusing. It reminds me of Johnny Bravo constantly looking at himself. Narcissism is funny. News flash: you are not the hot shit that you think you are, gym dude.

Related to that are dudes that hang out in the weights section like it's a coffee shop. The heavy weight lifting section might as well have a sign that says, "Dude Territory", it's somewhere I never dare to tread. But guys just chill there, seemingly all day. Is this some secret guy club the rest of us females are unaware of?

Dudes, while you're hanging out over among all those weights, you might want to try some leg lifts. Squat thrusts. Something. Just a few. Because dudes spend a seemingly inordinate amount of time on their arms, making sure they have perfect biceps and lats but then have itty bitty legs. Teeny tiny toothpick legs. We, women, notice these things. Yes, we do. So couple dozen leg presses wouldn't hurt too, ya know? Just so you look proportional.

Basically: dudes at the gym are funny.

Girls do comical things at the gym, too.

There are girls that don't sweat. WTF is that? Some girls don't sweat because they aren't trying. Why are you HERE then? Just casually meandering around the gym. But there are some that are running and yet never a single drop of perspiration. How is that possible? I drip sweat. It's super unattractive. But guess what: not at the gym to be attractive. Really don't gaf what I look like at the gym. (There's an episode of How I Met Your Mother that drives me insane where they make fun of how Robin looks like a lesbian (their words, not mine) at the gym. What the hell is she supposed to look like AT THE GYM?) But, unlike me, there are girls that do care about how they look. Show up in these matching outfits with their hair, even in a pony tail, all blown out and perfect and makeup on. I understand they may have come from someplace where that was necessary. But then they maintain it while exercising? How? Basically: if you don't sweat and look cute at the gym, I kinda hate you and yet want to be you at the same time.

There are girls in really nice work out gear who show up for all of five minutes of cardio before disappearing. Must be nice to work off the stalk of celery and nothing else you ate all day long. I envy you, girls with fast metabolisms that don't actually need exercise.

There are people at the gym who talk on their phones the whole time. The. Whole. Time. They simply sit on work out benches and chat away instead of actually doing any exercise. Some people chat while on treadmills, which can be disorienting when you're next to them and not sure if they're talking to you at first because you have your headphones on and that "I do not talk while here" face. But the ones that just plop in a corner and chat away? You don't burn calories just by showing up, folks.

My absolute favorite though are the people that get on treadmills and put the incline to as vertical as it will go and then hang on for dear life to the handles, looking like they are on some standing amusement park contraption. It's downright comical. These people are inevitably older Chinese women who are wearing mom jeans and canvas shoes at the gym and they just endlessly make me laugh. It's even funnier because it's not like we live in Kansas. You want to hike your ass up a near vertical hill? Go try California Street. Hell, I refuse to walk home from the gym up the hill two blocks down the street from the gym because it's too steep. I walk a few more blocks down before taking the uphill that's more gently graded.

Oh wait! One more gym favorite: there's a half basketball court at my gym that is glassed in. It's not even the best place to play basketball within blocks of the gym but regardless, it is ALWAYS packed. 3 in the afternoon or 11 at night there are guys hooping it up. And they are playing HARD. You'd think they were all trying out for the NBA in a couple of weeks. If only they could get recognized at the crappy neighborhood gym! Darn the luck. And, this is reality not me being mean, the basketball area is pretty exclusively populated by 5'6" Asian dudes. Going FULL out. In a half basketball court. I think this is why Jeremy Lin is such a thing. Seems like so many Asian dudes want to play basketball so bad, but genetically aren't predisposed to being tall enough to be competitive. They now have someone to idolize. And he is most sincerely one of them, a Bay Area native. Sorry, short Asian dudes. I don't think you played at the University of Arizona despite you rocking their long, official basketball shorts. (This was true in high school too. I remember these guys who were so into basketball, and not just playing but the culture of it and the style and all of it, but just...they were never gonna be 6'6". As a fat chick I sympathize: genetics suck.)

I should thank the gym for being an endless source of distracting amusement when I do go there.  An hour of cardio can be completely monotonous. This has actually made me not dread my second workout after a week off so much. But still: the gym sucks. And whoever leaves cooking channels on the TVs at the gym is a stone cold bastard.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Playing The Game

Do you know that getting hired is a more formal, ridiculous dance than Victorian era courtship? Do you want to guess how utterly reluctant I am to play this game? You probably don't have to try very hard to imagine that I absolutely loathe the whole the thing.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Valentine's Day Approaches

I told a friend about my plans to not drink until my D.C. trip. Her first response was, "That encompasses Valentine's Day. How can you not drink on Valentine's Day?!"


This was her concern?

I apparently missed the memo where I'm supposed to feel woeful about some dude not buying me crap on  a designated day in February, in which I'm then to reciprocate by wearing sexy lingerie, that I need to drown my sorrows in cheap pinot grigio and romcoms living up to every Hollywood cliche out there. This should go without saying but: Not. That. Girl.

Monday, February 6, 2012


I finally watched HBO's Luck tonight. Only the first episode. I had to wait for a moment where I was awake enough to process David Milch's dense language and where my dogs could be trusted to not bark the whole time, which is rare these days. I found an hour after the gym last night.

I was excited about the show because I am one of those stereotypical horse crazy girls who still dreams of owning her own someday. A fact that has been previously documented here. I mention in that post at the link that I love the track. And after watching the first episode, it made me realize I really need to get there. The track is always a good time and I swear one of the most fun cheap dates you can ever take a girl on. Try it. I want to know how it works out. With football season over, I'm vowing to go.

(Aside: one of my friends from Louisiana is still a horse trainer. Her and her sisters and cousin, who I all knew, grew up around horses and really know how to ride. We were having a discussion once and I said, "I'm just so jealous you guys got to have horses! I never did!" She replied, "Yeah, but not big, pretty horses..." Lesson: you always want more.)

As mentioned, the show is dense. Milch has somehow mastered modern Shakespearean language and every word, every note, is loaded with meaning. It's tough. And he dives right in. He doesn't take the time to explain the track lingo to you, slowly rolling out the story the way a lesser show would. He assumes you know what he's talking about or you'll learn quickly.

Because I have some familiarity with track culture and how it works, I kept up fairly well. But even I was learning some aspects on the fly and paying as close attention as I could, for someone with self diagnosed adult onset ADD.

(My thoughts and some spoilers contained after the jump, even if the episode is a couple weeks old now, you've been warned.)

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Using The Phone

I called fancy lawyer dude. He was nice. His firm, from what I read on their website, brings in serious money. (Class action suits. Getting $300 million judgments. Class action attorneys usually get a third, yes, a third, of that. Dolla dolla bills y'all.)

While I was busy freaking out about the whole omg talking on the phone thing, I IMed the long distance friend and was like, "Hey, I need your help." She talked me through it. We talked about our mutual foot dragging reluctance to do anything. That actually sort of takes care of one issue: people being there when you need them. I was grateful for that. Truly.

Anyway, he was very pleasant though confused at first thinking I worked at fancy department store and wasn't calling on the sale girl's recommendation. Once we cleared that up, we chatted briefly and then he said the best bet was to get together and talk. Which I was sort of expecting, this is how these things go. So we're set to meet next week and chat about god knows what. But it'll give me a reason to get fancy and go downtown, so there's that. 

I ran a couple errands after I finally sucked it up and called him, and downed a glass of Dr Pepper because I'd earned that (and it's in the house which means I can't resist because I am a weak willed human). When I returned from my errands, it dawned on me that he didn't have any of my contact information. If something changes, he won't be able to alert me. D'oh. 

I IMed the friend again and said, "Hey, I'm supposed to send one of those follow up emails, huh? One of those 'thanks for taking the time blah blah blah see you next week, here's my info' emails?" Yes, she replies. I'm really bad at this stuff. This is why I need a nice safe job where I can be clueless without too much harm coming to others. Or someone to just hold my hand and do it for me. (Not really, I'll survive on my own. There's just a lot more whining involved that way.) 

Point is: I used the phone, I have an informational interview, I didn't make too big of an idiot out of myself, the world did not end. 

Now to look forward to the next thing where I lose it...

Faking It

I'm supposed to call a big important lawyer dude tomorrow. I'm, predictably, freaking out about this.