The Greater Implications

I guess you might say that I'm having an attack of conscience or that I got swift kick in the ass delivered by reality.  Here's what happened:

I worked until midnight last night and had a cab take me all the way home instead of my usual place, the train station as I was too tired to drive.  As such, I left my car parked overnight.  When I returned to get it this morning, the driver's side window was busted and my gps and a few other items were missing.  Bollocks.  Total bollocks.  I called the transit police, called the insurance company. Blah. blah. 

Come to find out that I'm a few days late on my auto insurance payment because I haven't checked my personal email since Wednesday.  Thankfully, the nice people at Progressive told me there's a grace period, which I fell into. So, I'm not totally shit out of luck.  Obviously, I paid what was due and even pre-paid next month as it's guaranteed that I'll forget.  Paul was nice enough to drive my car home and give me his car so I could blow off some steam and get my nails done.  You all know how they looked during the week.... a total wreck thanks to my nervous picking.

So, there I am at the salon and I get a call from the transit cops.  Now, at this point I've talked to the MBTA Transit Police several times already as I come to find out, I'm one of 5 cars that were broken into last night.  Anywho, the lovely office calls me back to let me now that my registration has expired.  I shriek out, "WHAT?!" She tells me it expired in January and that I should keep track of these things.  She also let me know she's put a note in the system that she's talked to me and that if I'm found driving the car without updating my registration, I'll most likely be arrested.  Needless to say, I immediately got on-line to try to re-register my car.  Many server errors later, turns out I'll have to take care of it on Monday.  The same day I've got to get the window fixed.  The same day the project that kept me at work till midnight is due. hmmmm....

You're probably thinking, "Jeez Rita, get your shit together."  I'm right there with you.  I did some reflecting while having a few beers and during a run  today.  Here's what I came up with: it's sucks that my car got broken into but, there are much greater implications that have resulted from this misfortune.

My train of thought went something like this: If I didn't just take a cab straight home, this wouldn't have happened.  If I drove into work, this wouldn't have happened.  If I had just left work at a normal time, this wouldn't have happened.  If I hadn't been given a project at 5:30 on a Friday that I had to stay and finish cause if I didn't my other weekend work would get screwed up, this wouldn't have happened.  If I had known there was a deadline, I would've gotten the work done earlier and this wouldn't have happened.  You're seeing a theme here right?  Yea, I did too.  It's work. 

Now, don't get me wrong, everyone works.  We have to.  I've got bills just like you do.  I have rent and student student loans to pay.  Here's the thing, I'm so consumed at work that my personal life falls to the side.  I cannot tell you the last time I've paid a bill on time.  I've set up reminders.  I've asked for email alerts.  Inevitably, the alarm or reminder dings when I'm in the middle of a conference call or when I'm knee deep in an analysis.  So, the alarm falls to the wayside.  It's pathetic.

Also had another moment of clarity today.  If I had taken the cab to the train station last night, I could've walked into my car being broken into.  The police told me it happened around 12:30am, just the time I would've been getting to the station.  God only knows what would've happened. God was truly watching last night.

Back to the reality check.  Another thing happened today that I think was part of some scripted plan.  I was reading a book called Once We Were Brothers, very very good by the way, and I came upon this explanation of the main characters life:

"Is she happy working at Jenkins and Fairchild, because I don't get the feeling she is."

"No, she's not.  She and Mickey were doing some terrific public interest work.  Stuff to be proud of.  Jenkins is an institutional firm representing large corporate interests.  Very unsatisfying for Cat."

"So, why does she stay there?"

"You know how it is - you get up every day, put your shoes on and go to work.  She's well paid, enjoys the esteem of her colleagues, and has enough work to keep her conscious from reminding her how empty her soul is....."


enough work to keep her conscious from reminding her how empty her soul is.....

Holy fuck did that resonate.  Is that what I'm doing?  Please say it ain't so.

It kinda is.  Am I getting satisfaction from the work I'm doing?  Not really.  I've got moments where I'm learning, but it's not something I would have expected me to be doing.  Don't get me wrong, I do my job well.  I put in over and above a 100%, but it's not fulfilling.  I meed deadlines so I don't get yelled at.  I get balance sheets to balance, reconciliations to tie out.  But meh, I could leave it. The comic Savage Chicken describes my situation so well:

Well, this is where I am.  I'm formulating a plan.  This isn't life.  For the foreseeable future I will be out running as that's one of the activities that reminds me I'm not just a desk jockey.  I'll be calling you friends to catch up, as you are a ridiculously important part of my life I've neglected.  I'll be out in the sun more often.  I'll be eating dinner with my Husband on a daily basis.

Just know that if you're in a similar situation,  I 100% get where you are coming from. We can change this.

Who I Am

I am Marie and Mary's granddaughter.
I didn't get to meet either of my grandfathers.
I'm 29.
I was always the tallest in my grade in grammar school.
I look exactly like my father.
I used to have bleach blond curly hair.
I am a sister.
I am a god-mother.
I love being outside.
I love the ocean.
I'm a rower.
I'm a crossfitter.
I am too nice.
I own too many shoes.
I don't speak up for myself enough.
I've got a ridiculous memory.
I'm a lawyer.
I run.
I eat everything.
I love good food.
I hate the rain.
I love flip flops, even in the winter.
I have a fur baby.
I'm a skier.
I hate heights.
I am a little OCD at times.
I totally eavesdrop into other people's conversations.
I love to people watch.
I talk about my wedding like it was yesterday.
I'm terrible at answering my phone.
I totally text while driving.
I'm not afraid to die.
I know there is a heaven.
I think you can talk to God anytime, anywhere.
I can't draw for shit.
I love being around water.
I'm doing Tough Mudder.
I've got tattoos.
I drink too much coffee.
I love any baby animal.
I'd love to be a sommelier in my next life.
I love cheese.
I am fiercely proud of my family.
I miss the Hudson.
I miss my Marist Family.
I <3 Elvis
I bowl.
I'm usually social chair anywhere that I work.
I read like crazy.
I buy ridiculous jewelry.
I wish I had blue eyes.
I am a wife.
I want to be a mother.
I love getting dressed up.
I love lounging on the couch.
I love eating my husband's cooking.
I hate putting away the silverware.
I don't spend enough time with my dog.
I don't get outside enough.

I'm not sure that's everything, but it's a start.

I AM a soul and I HAVE a body

The prolific writer C. S. Lewis one wrote "You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." I saw this quoted on a pendant on Etsy the other day and it stuck with me. I rolled it around in my head for a few days and after a drink with a friend during which he said "you're quiet, this isn't like you" I finally gave it some serious thought.

Here's what I came up with. My soul isn't happy. Neither is my body, if I'm being completely honest. It isn't because I'm unhappy, per se; it's because I'm not nurturing and enriching my soul. I'm not doing what I love on a daily basis. I honestly don't have the time. That's pathetic and I realize that.

I thrive on being around people. I thrive on making other people happy, by having a good time, sharing stories, eating, walking on the beach, giving hugs, petting dogs, laughing. I listen. I talk. I run. I eat. I lay in the sun. But right now, I'm not doing any of that.

That's got to change.

I've got to make my soul happy again.

So what to do? I've started calling friends more often. Making plans for dinner and drinks. I've gotten outside and have started running again. My life on this earth is too short to let a day pass me by. 

What makes your soul happy?

A First

I think the movie was better than the book.

Wait, what!?

Yeah. Hunger Games, the movie, was better than Hunger Games, the book. Here's why.

If you've read the book (books is more likely) you know Katniss has had it rough. Her family lives in the Seam, her father died when she was young, her mother had a mental break and checked out for a bit, and oh, right....she volunteered for the hunger games to save Prim. Now, don't get me wrong, hard times and difficulties build a character, but do they have to make her whiny and unaware? No. No, they don't.

Here's my gripe with Katniss: I get it you don't trust people, you've been burned many times, blah, blah. Is it so difficult to think of the repercussions your actions have, though? You clearly are not a dumb person/character, Katniss. Put the pieces together! You're actions have repercussions! Don't you see? You're a cog in a treasonous machine, you're purpose on this planet has changed entirely. You're no longer the girl who supports your family in the Seam, you're the 'girl on fire' who incites riots!

The movie Katniss, gets this. She's not oblivious. She knew what she was doing when she put flowers on Rue, when she gave the signal. She sure as hell knew what pressing the game makers with the nightlock would do. Katniss Everdeen in the movie is the worthy figurehead of the rebellion and I hope it stays that way.

The other reason I like the movie so much more than the book is because we get to see other perspectives.  We get to see how awkward Gale feels when he sees Katniss kiss Peeta in the arena.  There's obviously more than friendship therefor him.  The game makers are just as I pictured them in my imagination and it was great to see them on screen manipulating the arena.  The best had to be seeing the interaction with President Snow and Seneca Crane regarding the 'underdog'. Its clear, there is no hope in the games, there is now chance for an underdog to win....it's just another way the Capitol owns your ass.

Here's my advice: read the books by Suzanne Collins and then go see the movie. The you get to decide.  Maybe you'll think I'm completely off my rocker; maybe not. 

Songs....and the people/places they bring to mind

I'm sure you've experienced this before: a certain song comes on the radio or your ipod and you're immediately think of another time and place and maybe the person/people you were with.  It happens to me almost daily.  I find it's akin to taking down a photo album and thumbing through the pages.  Apparently I am not alone is this as scientists (Schulkind, Hennis, and Rubin) did a series of experiments in 1999 and ddocumented experiences from both college students and older adults.  What the found was that a song would evoke a general recollection - a memory for a life period such as high school, or college, or dating that certain someone from long ago. Other times, songs brought to mind specific recollections of particular events. They've termed this recollection Music-Evoked Nostalgia. 

For me, this just doesn't occur with music; it happens with books as well.  Every time I pick up the first three Harry Potter books, I'm transported back to my trip to Australia the summer after high school.  I remember the sun shining through the window of the tour bus onto the pages of my book as we passed through the outback.  I remember identifying so strongly to Harry's want for an actual family when I was homesick and just wanted to be home.

I don't think it's odd for me to experience any of this given that I've got a ridiculous incidental memory.

Here are some songs that bring to mind certain people and events.  If they apply to you, you should already know. 

Sweet baby James
Pictures
The First Cut is the Deepest
I'm walking Away
Come What May
Wonderful Tonight
Starry Night
Tupelo Honey
I've got Friends in Low Places

Youth of A Nation - listened to this when I pulled my PR 2k with Amanda
Toxic - heard this every day on the bus to and from rowing in Clemson
Carolina in my Mind - always listened to this leading up to spring break
Give it to her - Our getting ready to go out song, Junior year
Chop Suey - CRASH B prep
Birdhouse in your Soul - Beaches in RI

Nerd Girl Problems

Since my insomnia kicked in full force last night, I was relegated downstairs to the couch so as not to disturb the sleepy Beauty husband of mine. As reading didn't help and the TV just made my mind spin faster, I flipped open the Mac book and started stumbling** across the Internet. I found a "Sunshine in a Jar" recipe for tied died vanilla cake in small mason jars. I came across funny pictures of animals, the stupidest HP tattoos out there, and guidance on how to successfully climb Mt. Everest. All in all, these innocuous sites helped my brain start to slow. I thought I'd hit stumble one last time before bed when I came upon this glorious site:

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/nerd+girl+problems

Kismet, I say.

It's wonderful to see girls like me exist! AND they have the same thoughts I do re: reading, characters, friends...

Needless to say, it wasn't my insomnia that kept me up for the 45 minutes, it was these witty posts. Here are the few that I enjoyed the most:

(This one has gotten me in trouble on many occasion)

post on fellow nerd girls!!! Here's hoping I don't get weird looks when I mutter "nerd girl problems" under my breath at work, etc.



**I refer to the Mozilla toolbar button that, once it knows your likes and dislikes, will take you to pages around the web you've never been before. Get it.

Sometimes I think I'm the People in the book

My journey with books didn't really begin until I was in my last two years of high school.  Don't get me wrong, I read books. I read the books that were in my curriculum, however, I didn't really read for fun.  When someone asked me what my favorite book was, I would just tell them I had recently finished x.  Nothing really ever piqued my interest; the books I was given were just mediocre...and that sucked. 

My sister, avid reader that she was, encouraged me to take books from her shelves if I wanted.  All books were fair game.  So, I think I randomly picked up the Great Gatsby.  I wasn't too impressed by the beginning of the book, sort of thought about not continuing ...but then I got sucked in.  I was intrigued by the affair as this was around the same time the Bill and Monica affair broke.  Whatever my motivation.... I finished it.  Then I picked up Catcher in the Rye and that was it.  I got sucked in.  Here was a kid that was feeling as frustrated as myself.  Granted, I didn't pick up a hooker, but I had feelings of running away for a day...try to find something MORE. 

The book I related to the most, why I just don't know, was the Beekeeper's Apprentice.  It's a series written by Laurie R. King featuring a female counterpart to the great Sherlock Holmes.  Maybe it was her strong character or maybe it was her frank manner of speaking (something which I still struggle to have)...either way, I was completely consumed by this book.  By this series, really (I still read each installment today).  I couldn't put it down.

When I was reading, I didn't just have a picture in my head of what was going on...I had a streaming movie in which I was one of the main characters.  It was disappointing to put the book down to go to bed, to eat.  Really, it was hard to exit that world of the Sussex downs and the streets of London.  I had at this point, developed some idea of what I WANTED to read now.

I then started plowing through books, becoming more and more engrossed in the story.  I had found my niche; my imagination was running wild...I felt I could do anything and everything ( well, i guess as long as the character in the book was doing it :o).

To this day I still get upset when I finish a book and I have to close it's cover leaving an exciting world, my temporary home, behind. I'm happy and almost feel comforted when I start reading my favorites again. 

Here are some of my favorites:

The Beekeeper's Apprentice (Mary Russel Novels) by Laurie R. King

Graceling
Fire both by Kristen Cashore

Outlander Series by Diana Gabaldon

Anything by:
Philippa Gregory
Rachel Vincent
Jeaniene Frost
Rachel Vincent
Ariana Franklin
Richard Russo
Chloe Neill
Lauren Willig
Tasha Alexander
Scott Lynch
Patrick Rothfuss
David and Lee Eddings
Robin Hobb

Vintage Soul

One of the best compliments I've ever received was being told I have a vintage soul.

I never really thought if myself as "vintage" per se, I just thought I had odd taste when it came to music, jewelry,shoes, clothes......ok, that person was totally right! I am vintage!

I've said on several occasions how I thought I was born in the wrong decade. I love the Beatles, Peter Paul and Mary, and of course Simon and Garfunkel. I'd honestly give my right hand to have been in attendance at their last concert in 1981 at Central Park. I would also kill to see The Beatles rock Shea Stadium or Boudakian.

I, hands down, would've kicked ass as a protester in the '60s. I would've loved to have seen Martin Luther King deliver his I Have a Dream speech.

I don't mean to say that I don't like modern things or music, I just prefer some classic styles. I believe in the idea that everyone has the right to certain liberties and inalienable rights, both ideas which were born in that era.

Hear one side and you will be in the dark. Hear both and all will be clear.

It occurred to me this week, after having *quite* the trying day on Monday, that I needed to talk to someone. To find resolve on some issues. To air MY grievances, rather than have someone air their grievances at me. Simply, I wanted.....NEEDED to be heard.

As it turns out, actually having a conversation isn't as simple as the one you've scripted in your head. There are channels to go through, people who volunteer to facilitate only to relate half a story (and usually the unimportant part), and ultimately your intended audience won't "hear" what you have to say. So where does this lead you?

Often times, you are much more frustrated at the end of the conversation than when you started. You might even feel stupid for not being able to make the other person understand how you feel. But really, does it matter?

The reason I ask is because, ultimately, you should feel better for speaking up....for finding your voice. Just because they don't understand doesn't mean you're not being clear...sometimes people are just dense; they've got their own agenda and their sticking to it. It's THEIR problem for not listening; they're the ones missing out.

It's taken many a ridiculous, emotionally draining conversation for me to realize this. My solution: keep my voice, keep it strong, and don't shut up because others aren't listening. Someday, they WILL listen and the will be kicking themselves in the ass 'cause they're gonna be blown away with what I have to say.

This is for Cait...

I'm not sure how many of you know this, but my sister-in-law Cait joined the US Coat Guard. She left for bootcamp just as we were coming home from vacation. We unfortunately also missed her going away party as we were leaving for vacation. I miss her very much.

Words cannot express how incredibly proud I am of her. I was a bit taken aback when she first announced her decision, but I see now it's the right choice. She has a purpose, she has goals, and she gets to see the world.

I've already written her a few cards, tried to tell her what's going on back in MA, but what I really want to know is how she's doing. What is she going through in Cape May? What is the training like? Does she like her fellow recruits?

I'll patiently wait until she can write back. I just hope she knows how proud I am of her and how much I love her.

Semper Paratus, Cait.

I'm on a boat.....well, I WAS on a Boat.... The Ports of Call

As my husband returns to his other mistress, Skyrim, I thought it would be a good time to regale you about the cruise we just returned from. After trying to explain this to several snorks* already, I fear I must start at the very beginning.

The cruise we went on was JoCo Cruise Crazy II , JCCC2 for short. It was run by this man, Jonathan Coulton (he also wrote "Still Alive" for Portal):

He set up a cruise for his fans featuring many artists from w00tstock and some new additions. It's basically a week for his fans to gather on a cruise ship to listen to nerdy/geeky music and play games and socialize with their equally geeky counterparts. It's also a time for their geek-adjacent significant others to bond in the Caribbean :o)

The cruise left out of Port Everglades in Ft. Lauderdale bound for three ports of call: the Bahamas, Aruba, and Curaçao.

Half Moon Cay in the Bahamas was the best port of the trip, IMHO. As Holland America's private island it boasted groomed white sandy beaches, crystal clear blue water, and a special section of beach reserved just for seamonkeys. Vi Hart entertained us with human geometrical figures while in the surf and a few of us lucky ocean-goers got to see both baby barracudas and they're well-toothed mother.

Our second port of call was Aruba. Thought it offered what appeared to be the best excursions, Aruba was our least favorite port of call. As discussed with our new friends at dinner, Aruba seemed so commercialized that it lacked the Caribbean soul we were hoping for. We kept getting told it was a great port to shop, especially for diamonds at ridiculously cheap prices. We were overwhelmed my jewelry stores and other American staples such as McDonald's and the Hard Rock Cafe not 100 feet from the boat. The view from our balcony was breathtaking though:

What also might be playing a factor in our opinion of Aruba was the shooting that occurred not more than 20 mins before we disembarked. Unfortunately, this shooting resulted in the deaths of two would-be robbers at the hands of the Aruban police. The hearses, shell casings, and ridiculous police presence put a damper on the island atmosphere to say the least. 

Shooting Headline

I also stumbled upon the PwC Aruba office which automatically had me thinking of how my clients were faring at home. Obviously, a gulp of a cocktail dispelled those thoughts immediately. 

Our last port of call was Curaçao. Paul and I enjoyed this port the most as it was so authentic. A short trolly around the island offered views of the floating markets, historical houses, and authentic battlements. It was strange yet exhilarating to know how close we were to South America.

As I walked the floating markets I yearned to buy and bring home the fresh fruit and produce for sale. I've never had a mango so sweet or an orange so tangy and full of flavor before!

I also found yet another PwC office:

I wish we could have had one more day at Half Moon Cay on our return trip.....our daily concerts did make up for it though :o)

Up next.... The JoCo Cruise Entertainment!!

*non-seamonkeys on the cruise. You can substitute mundanes if you like, or muggles. Ha