I hate packing

Packing is the worst. I literally have a single room to pack, a room that isn't even that big. And yet it is packed with stuff I didn't even realize I had. I looked at the bottom of this hamper I have that's basically a giant clothing storage bin, and there are dresses that haven't seen the light of day since last summer. I found old pairs of shoes, letters, cards, thank you notes, gift cards, probably $20 in change, perfume, every bobby pin known to man and several dozen ponytail holders. All of this scattered around my tiny room.

This makes me sound/feel like a class-A hoarder, which, you know, I probably am. But my room honestly never looked like it had so much stuff in it.

The saddest part of packing was removing all my DVDs from their cases and putting them in a giant CD case. I love the DVD cases! Alas, they take up too much space and I'm too cheap to ship them to my destination.

On the upside, having them in the CD case is like having a catalog showing evidence of how great my taste in television and movies is.

Just move on up to a greater day

I'm not quite in the writing mood but at the urging of a friend, I decided to revisit the blog. I'm hoping that with the big move next month, I'll have more interesting things to write about. I know a lot of this has mostly been about how I want change or how I'm in an awkward stage and how much I hate that awkward stage, and I don't know, that isn't necessarily something I should be writing about over and over. It ends up making me wallow a little bit, and that's not healthy at all.

I've grown a lot since I started this blog way back in 2007, and I've done a lot of living as well. Looking back now, I can appreciate all the tiny steps I was unconsciously making towards where I am today, and I can truly say that I'm ready to move forward.

Or, as Mr. Mayfield would say,

Extended absences are never good

The past couple of months have been a crazy jumble of just...stuff. I've had issues with my family, lost a couple of friends, downsized out of a job and spent the better part of the past 3 weeks trying to figure out just what it is I want to do with my life.

What I've figured out is that I am happiest when writing and learning new technologies. I love travelling, and even if I'm not fortunate enough to find a job that allows me to do that frequently, I know that my dream position will allow me the flexibility to take a vacation or two a year. And instead of papering the Internet with my resume, I've really hunkered down and focused on positions that are not just jobs, but places where I could flourish and grow. The contract positions I've enjoyed over the past 4 years haven't been the most glamorous or even the ones I knew a ton about going in. They were the ones where I learned something new everyday and was constantly presented with ways to challenge myself to hone and sharpen my craft. I just need to find a permanent job like that.

It's a little difficult to be picky right now, what with the terrible economy and all. But I haven't lost hope yet, and I know the right job is out there for me, somewhere. In the meantime, I have grad school to look forward to this summer (YAY!) and a temporary job with my old boss that I'm pretty excited for.

The playlist that is getting me through includes these two life-affirming songs:

I climbed a tree to see the world

It's sort of depressing that I haven't written in this ALL MONTH. And it isn't even really like I've been too terribly busy. Remarkably, I've mostly kept up with my workouts, which I'm so proud of. I mean, yeah, I do miss a day here and there, and then I have to balance that out with how much I eat. I have started enjoying working out and I think it is because I can see the results, even if my scale isn't really showing a huge difference. My clothes fit differently, my endurance is better, my skin is consistently clear. It has just been really good all around.

On a totally different note...
I have become more aware recently of my own mortality. I'm not dying, but when you're very young, you don't necessarily think about death or dying or how long you'll be here for. It's just sort of a given that you'll wake up every morning and that the days aren't really that important because there will just be another one tomorrow. Death is for other people. But now, in my 25th year, I've discovered that each day really is a gift and even if I'm not globetrotting or changing the world, it is important to spend as much time as I can appreciating the world and the people around me. There is a lot to be sad or angry or frustrated with in life, but the fact that you are here at all to even feel those emotions is something to be grateful for.

I encourage you to listen to the song below. I first heard it on an episode of "Grey's Anatomy" back in 2007, and became addicted to it. You don't even necessarily need to listen to the lyrics, just listen to the melody. It is possibly my favorite song ever, I cannot properly describe the feelings it gives me. But I have found it to be really fantastic thinking music. Or the soundtrack to my own music video. Sometimes, I listen to it when I'm on the bus on the way home from a doctor's appointment for work. And with this as your background music, the world becomes your very own stop motion music video.

Also, watch the Bright Star trailer (and the movie itself!) for the best use of music in a trailer. Ever.

Digital Nomad

The past month and a half have been a real struggle for me. I hate not having a job. And, yes, I realize I'm not the only person ever in the history of the world to hate being unemployed. I don't even have the excuse of being worried about bills or how I'm going to feed myself-I am concerned mostly with how I will entertain myself. I mean, really, there's only so many hours you can spend on Gawker Media websites before you start to question your own sanity.

In any case, I got a bite on a job, one that would afford me the great luxury of working remotely. Entirely remotely. And when I say "entirely remotely," I mean not a single meeting happens in person, and everything happens over the Internet. No, dear Internet readers, I have not been tricked into some Craigslist scheme. The job offer came through my agency and I'd be working for a well-known travel website. The pay isn't fantastic, but I am extremely pleased that it means I can work from home. Because that also means I can work while I'm away at graduate school. And more importantly for the here & now? It means I can travel. Soon.

My wanderlust kicked into overdrive last week when I realized that I would be spending my first Valentine's Day in my hometown in 2 years, and that I really do miss certain aspects of being overseas. Can I just hop off and globetrot for the next 5 months? Probably not. Because I do have to do work, and if the time difference at my destination is too great, I'll be working late at night all the time.

If I land this gig, my plan is to get settled into the job for a month or so, and then plan an extended vacation in Europe. Paris and London of course, but also to places I haven't been. The cities will not be far off the beaten track if only because I need to be sure I have a high-speed internet connection, but I will be gone for a while AND earning money.

I am keeping my fingers crossed because, really, this job is actually incredibly perfect for me right and it could not have come at a better time. Here's to hoping that I become a Digital Nomad in the not too distant future.

Wrinkles

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

The Break Up

So, the shred and I are currently seeing other people at the moment. I haven't entirely given up on it, but I will admit that by Sunday morning, I was incredibly bored with the frightening Ms. Michaels telling me to keep going even though I wanted to quit. During a switch in equipment, I sat for more than the minute she allows and I almost didn't get up again.

Sunday morning came 'round and I was snuggled warm and happy in my bed, watching "Supernatural" and calculating what exactly I could eat (or, how little I could eat?) so that I'd be justified in not doing the workout. And at that precise moment, my stepmom asked me if I wanted to go to the gym with her. At first, I replied with a falsely hoarse "No." I climbed back into bed and resumed watching the Winchester Brothers' chronicles. But something inside me (perhaps my conscience? Or the remnants of that delicious slice of pepperoni pizza I happily devoured earlier in the week?) told me that I really needed to workout. And so I trundled off to the gym, equipped with gossip rags and a kickass Cardio playlist to get me through.

The workout? Oh, just 60 minutes on an elliptical machine. Which, let me tell you, is nowhere near as easy as you think it is. Sixty minutes of grinding repition marked only by the pops and cracks of my entirely woefully unexercised joints, with background music provided by Lady GaGa. Around the 30 minute mark, I was sure I was going to pass out. I selected "Bad Romance" and pushed on. It was not fun, and it was definitely the first time I've sweated in, well, a really long time. But when I hit 60 minutes, looked at the calorie count and the distance I'd "traveled", I was more than pleased with myself. That was until I got off the ellipticals and my legs were so Jell-O like that I nearly fell, Bridget Jones-style.

In the end, the workout was well worth it. I went back today, still slightly sore from yesterday's workout, but secure in the knowledge that though my muscles seemed to be staging a not-so velvet revolution, they'd be thanking me in short order.