Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Name Game
No, I'm not pregnant. Far from it. But there will be a new addition to the family. Of the four legged variety. Yes, I'm getting a puppy. In April. Why such a ways away? Um...it's still baking? Hehe. We're calling it "Spud-the Next Generation." Spud is the Pekingese/Maltese hybrid (Peke-a-Tese) that I discovered from our local classified ads. Unfortunately, he was an only child and already promised to another family, but his siblings are due to arrive in March. Which means I'll be running after a puppy sometime in April. Until then, there is a notepad on my coffee table at the ready in case a wonderful name pops into my head.
I have a friend who has a pup named Georgia and another friend who promised that when he got a dog, her name would be Florida. In keeping with tradition, I said that my dog would be named Alaska. Great, if it's a girl. The fact that Spud was an only child has me scrambling to come up with a male puppy dog name. Sorry, but there are no state names that lend itself to a male name--Montana and Dakota are out, not an option. And as much as one of my friends has tried to convince me that Alaska is gender neutral, my extremely scientific polling of random people has determined otherwise.
So I am on to captial cities, largest cities, state trees, state fish, presidents, mythological figures, Catholic Popes and Saints, famous authors, iconic movie stars, favorite childhood television and cartoon characters. Can you understand that I want my pup's name to be unique? Sorry, Fido.
Considered, but Eliminated:
Lincoln, Eros, Bogart, Lysander, Gehry, Oscar, Gyro, Egbert, Cagney, Winston, Mokey
Still in the running:
Abbott, Hartford, Aesop, Hawthorne, Damascus, Sprocket, Plucky, Gobo
Leading the pack:
Gonzo, Bip, Bismark, Sitka, Pike, Tesla, Hero, Astaire
I've got a while yet to mull about on this, but as it is I'm about to go nuts. Help! Oh, and it's a shame I don't want kids...sorry William Rhett and Mallory Grace.
I have a friend who has a pup named Georgia and another friend who promised that when he got a dog, her name would be Florida. In keeping with tradition, I said that my dog would be named Alaska. Great, if it's a girl. The fact that Spud was an only child has me scrambling to come up with a male puppy dog name. Sorry, but there are no state names that lend itself to a male name--Montana and Dakota are out, not an option. And as much as one of my friends has tried to convince me that Alaska is gender neutral, my extremely scientific polling of random people has determined otherwise.
So I am on to captial cities, largest cities, state trees, state fish, presidents, mythological figures, Catholic Popes and Saints, famous authors, iconic movie stars, favorite childhood television and cartoon characters. Can you understand that I want my pup's name to be unique? Sorry, Fido.
Considered, but Eliminated:
Lincoln, Eros, Bogart, Lysander, Gehry, Oscar, Gyro, Egbert, Cagney, Winston, Mokey
Still in the running:
Abbott, Hartford, Aesop, Hawthorne, Damascus, Sprocket, Plucky, Gobo
Leading the pack:
Gonzo, Bip, Bismark, Sitka, Pike, Tesla, Hero, Astaire
I've got a while yet to mull about on this, but as it is I'm about to go nuts. Help! Oh, and it's a shame I don't want kids...sorry William Rhett and Mallory Grace.
Monday, January 28, 2008
sneezing my way through
When I graduated college my mom said to me "I'll give you two years." No, this was not some ultimatum or prediction of failure. She was merely stating a time frame for my insatiable appetite for knowledge. It would be two years that I was out in the industry, honing my skills, before I would thirst for more. Well, Mom, you were right. A mere 18 months after completing my BID (Bachelor of Interior Design), I was in the Registrar's Office signing up for my first class of Graduate School...MBA, to be exact. Now because I didn't have the first business class behind me, there was nearly a full year of night classes I would be required to take to bring me up to speed before I was considered a graduate student. Ah, phooey. Economics 500, you're up first. Three months later I'm one class closer to a new goal. Or so I thought.
Grad school aside for the time being, you've got bigger fish to fry. Once my interior designer friends learned that I was forging ahead, they began to express an interest in the national licensing exam for interior designers. And since I'm known in our circles as the "friend bitch" and the one responsible for our quarterly catch-up dinner and drinks fete, they decided that I would be the perfect one to kick our butts into gear and steam ahead with studying. Let me give you a little background...to become a Licensed Interior Designer one must work in the industry for a minimum of 4160 hours, 2 years full-time, before it is determined that you have amassed the experience necessary to take this wonderful, delightful, all-the-world hinges on your passing, 16-hour test. It is recommended that you study for a minimum of 6-12 months before attempting, at best, as the 3-section pass rate for first time examinees hovers around 30%. I mean, what other testing authority prints on all informational brochures, "75 % of applicants who begin the testing process eventually pass." Fast forward 12 months, skip over two devastating hurricanes and the discombobulation of our study group, and the test results are in. I PASSED!
Fast forward again to what we'll call "Mom's time frame". Yes, not quite two years since the TEST and I'm ready for the next one. This time we're going to do double duty. It's the LEED AP certification exam (green-design), which at three hours and 80 questions hasn't even registered a blip on my radar and my second attempt at graduate school. This time I've put a little bit more thought into it and I've met with the advisers for SCAD's eLearning program in Historic Preservation. While my interior design backgrounds and area of residence leads itself into HP, close but no cigar. Without a 20-item HP portfolio, the admissions requirements include a 30 page research paper. Luckily, the research paper is also the basis for scholarships, so we'll see. The topic is of our choosing...mine...Historic Ironwork and it's Evolution from Horseshoes to Housewares (working title). Basically, the history behind the village blacksmith trade evolving from horseshoes and door latches into structural iron elements for buildings, cast iron facades for buildings, and the decorative ironwork that you see on homes today. Lots of polish left before this thing pays for my degree...I mean, have YOU looked at the cost of tuition!
And that is why I spent Sunday afternoon at the University Library, 2nd Floor, Dust and Grime.
Grad school aside for the time being, you've got bigger fish to fry. Once my interior designer friends learned that I was forging ahead, they began to express an interest in the national licensing exam for interior designers. And since I'm known in our circles as the "friend bitch" and the one responsible for our quarterly catch-up dinner and drinks fete, they decided that I would be the perfect one to kick our butts into gear and steam ahead with studying. Let me give you a little background...to become a Licensed Interior Designer one must work in the industry for a minimum of 4160 hours, 2 years full-time, before it is determined that you have amassed the experience necessary to take this wonderful, delightful, all-the-world hinges on your passing, 16-hour test. It is recommended that you study for a minimum of 6-12 months before attempting, at best, as the 3-section pass rate for first time examinees hovers around 30%. I mean, what other testing authority prints on all informational brochures, "75 % of applicants who begin the testing process eventually pass." Fast forward 12 months, skip over two devastating hurricanes and the discombobulation of our study group, and the test results are in. I PASSED!
Fast forward again to what we'll call "Mom's time frame". Yes, not quite two years since the TEST and I'm ready for the next one. This time we're going to do double duty. It's the LEED AP certification exam (green-design), which at three hours and 80 questions hasn't even registered a blip on my radar and my second attempt at graduate school. This time I've put a little bit more thought into it and I've met with the advisers for SCAD's eLearning program in Historic Preservation. While my interior design backgrounds and area of residence leads itself into HP, close but no cigar. Without a 20-item HP portfolio, the admissions requirements include a 30 page research paper. Luckily, the research paper is also the basis for scholarships, so we'll see. The topic is of our choosing...mine...Historic Ironwork and it's Evolution from Horseshoes to Housewares (working title). Basically, the history behind the village blacksmith trade evolving from horseshoes and door latches into structural iron elements for buildings, cast iron facades for buildings, and the decorative ironwork that you see on homes today. Lots of polish left before this thing pays for my degree...I mean, have YOU looked at the cost of tuition!
And that is why I spent Sunday afternoon at the University Library, 2nd Floor, Dust and Grime.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Eat your heart out Paula Deen!
Cause I can do butter too! Hehe. Saturday night and I'm sitting at home, belly full and glass of red wine in hand. It was date night and the menu consisted of:
Seared Beef Tenderloin and Sea Scallops
Spinach Linguine
Steamed Asparagus
Top the whole thing off with Champagne Butter Sauce and serve with the last bottle of 2007 Georges DeBoeuf Beaujolais Nouveau.
Happy times. And quick too. With two in the kitchen this meal took less than an hour to prepare, cook, and eat. I was in charge of all the fixings, while he was in charge of the one thing inherent on the Y chromosome--grill off the meat. It's all about compromise.
Now, what am I going to do about dessert?
Seared Beef Tenderloin and Sea Scallops
Spinach Linguine
Steamed Asparagus
Top the whole thing off with Champagne Butter Sauce and serve with the last bottle of 2007 Georges DeBoeuf Beaujolais Nouveau.
Happy times. And quick too. With two in the kitchen this meal took less than an hour to prepare, cook, and eat. I was in charge of all the fixings, while he was in charge of the one thing inherent on the Y chromosome--grill off the meat. It's all about compromise.
Now, what am I going to do about dessert?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Working through the Pain
When it comes to physical activity, I need tough love. Yell at me, piss me off, make me push harder. No pain, no gain.
As a kid I pitched for my local softball tournament team. We played in three different divisions, each one with slightly different rules, mainly on arch height for the pitch. My dad set up rods protruding from this old TV antenna pole next to our house, to represent the different height restrictions for the different softball leagues. If we were playing in League A, then I had to pitch under the first bar. If it was League B, then the ball had to go between the first two bars, and if it was League C, then the ball had to go over the highest bar. Each Tuesday (I had Monday off), we would go out into the yard and I would pitch, adjusting the height for whatever tournament was that upcoming weekend. I had to pitch 100 strikes before we called it a night--and this was AFTER our team practice. I mean, really, what 9-year-old has her mom keep a notebook of statistics for EVERY game played...balls, strikes, walks, strike outs, singles give up, doubles, triples...I was 9!! Tough love.
I've dated a couple bodybuilders. They wanted me to compete in figure competitions. After years of my ex-fiance telling me every day "You're fat. You're ugly. You're stupid. If we weren't together, no one would want you." my self confidence was a little shot. I mean come on, I was 5'2 and 115lbs, all muscle. (Just a reflection...now I'm 145...I know I'll never be that small again, but I'll be happy trimming away 20lbs). So, anyway, there was NO way that I was going to get on stage, but after taking a year off to study for my licensing exam, I was more than willing to have my butt kicked into shape. And he did. Pushed and yelled and encouraged me to lose 10lbs and get into my best shape since my college days.
Nearly two years have passed since then and I've reached new lows. Or highs, as the case may be. A few months ago a friend and I decided to start running. Great, strength in numbers, hold me accountable. Over the course of a few months we went from killing ourselves over one mile to running nearly 5. We completed our first 5K race and then our running dropped off. Holidays, vacations, there was always an excuse. Two weeks ago we started running and have quickly gotten back up to 3.5 miles, although the speed is not quite where it was a few months ago. Monday night we ran in 30 degree weather and tonight in the 65 degree weather my legs were cramping like nothing funny. So what did I do...grit my teeth, let the tears run down my face and keep on going. No pain, no gain. My poor running partner was not forewarned of my relentless to give up once started and thought that I was mad at him! Oh I am so sorry. Our run was capped off by twenty minutes of ground rules. Laying down the guidelines for my stubbornness. Yes, I may grunt and curse and yell, but its with love. Keep on pushing. It's all uphill.
As a kid I pitched for my local softball tournament team. We played in three different divisions, each one with slightly different rules, mainly on arch height for the pitch. My dad set up rods protruding from this old TV antenna pole next to our house, to represent the different height restrictions for the different softball leagues. If we were playing in League A, then I had to pitch under the first bar. If it was League B, then the ball had to go between the first two bars, and if it was League C, then the ball had to go over the highest bar. Each Tuesday (I had Monday off), we would go out into the yard and I would pitch, adjusting the height for whatever tournament was that upcoming weekend. I had to pitch 100 strikes before we called it a night--and this was AFTER our team practice. I mean, really, what 9-year-old has her mom keep a notebook of statistics for EVERY game played...balls, strikes, walks, strike outs, singles give up, doubles, triples...I was 9!! Tough love.
I've dated a couple bodybuilders. They wanted me to compete in figure competitions. After years of my ex-fiance telling me every day "You're fat. You're ugly. You're stupid. If we weren't together, no one would want you." my self confidence was a little shot. I mean come on, I was 5'2 and 115lbs, all muscle. (Just a reflection...now I'm 145...I know I'll never be that small again, but I'll be happy trimming away 20lbs). So, anyway, there was NO way that I was going to get on stage, but after taking a year off to study for my licensing exam, I was more than willing to have my butt kicked into shape. And he did. Pushed and yelled and encouraged me to lose 10lbs and get into my best shape since my college days.
Nearly two years have passed since then and I've reached new lows. Or highs, as the case may be. A few months ago a friend and I decided to start running. Great, strength in numbers, hold me accountable. Over the course of a few months we went from killing ourselves over one mile to running nearly 5. We completed our first 5K race and then our running dropped off. Holidays, vacations, there was always an excuse. Two weeks ago we started running and have quickly gotten back up to 3.5 miles, although the speed is not quite where it was a few months ago. Monday night we ran in 30 degree weather and tonight in the 65 degree weather my legs were cramping like nothing funny. So what did I do...grit my teeth, let the tears run down my face and keep on going. No pain, no gain. My poor running partner was not forewarned of my relentless to give up once started and thought that I was mad at him! Oh I am so sorry. Our run was capped off by twenty minutes of ground rules. Laying down the guidelines for my stubbornness. Yes, I may grunt and curse and yell, but its with love. Keep on pushing. It's all uphill.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Prelude and Preparation
So I learned something interesting about myself this weekend. I DO want it. I just don't know in what form, how, when, or where. It is no secret that I am no fan of Valentine's Day, even though I have never spent one alone, and this year looks to be no different, when I'm still not quite single-ish. Story of my life. And a whole 'nother topic. Expect the yearly Rant to appear in a few weeks. I've already got the title of the post ready, but I'm making myself wait until February 1 to post, otherwise you'll hear more of it than you want.
Let me just preface by saying that while in a Barnes & Noble this weekend I stumbled across a book that I became fascinated with when I first saw it at a store in Denver: Other People's Love Letters, compiled and edited by Bill Shapird. It's a collection of found notes, simple letters from one to another, on post-it notes, message pads-it's not some sappy outpouring of love but the real, everyday sort of love that you know is true. After perusing the shelves I found another that garnered my obsession: PostSecret by Frank Warren, now in it's third volume. Apparently this guy left stamped, addressed postcards in random places with simple instructions: write on it one secret that you've never told anyone and drop it into the mail. Wow. I could fill up a whole book by myself. Let's start with this one: I was in love with him, and never said anything.
My bluntness is hidden in that fact that you, my dear friend, do not know who him is. Maybe its hims, as this seems to be a recurring event in my life. One, Two, Three...better not to keep count. Story of my life. I didn't buy the books.
Let me just preface by saying that while in a Barnes & Noble this weekend I stumbled across a book that I became fascinated with when I first saw it at a store in Denver: Other People's Love Letters, compiled and edited by Bill Shapird. It's a collection of found notes, simple letters from one to another, on post-it notes, message pads-it's not some sappy outpouring of love but the real, everyday sort of love that you know is true. After perusing the shelves I found another that garnered my obsession: PostSecret by Frank Warren, now in it's third volume. Apparently this guy left stamped, addressed postcards in random places with simple instructions: write on it one secret that you've never told anyone and drop it into the mail. Wow. I could fill up a whole book by myself. Let's start with this one: I was in love with him, and never said anything.
My bluntness is hidden in that fact that you, my dear friend, do not know who him is. Maybe its hims, as this seems to be a recurring event in my life. One, Two, Three...better not to keep count. Story of my life. I didn't buy the books.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Used to Be
Can I say that I am glad to see 2007 come to a close? Hellz Yeah! Let's have a quick rundown: break up with pseudo-boyfriend, hate my job, become way too intimately involved with childhood friend, lost my job, gain 10 pounds, think about moving halfway across the country, get the we-never-should-have-been-anything-other-than-friends email, decide not to move, gain 5 pounds, start own company, get a part-time potentially very lucrative job, break my tailbone. That's just a quick overview. So, yeah, the used to be's in my life can stay right where they are--in the past. Don't regret a moment of it; learned from it all. We are lifelong students.
2007 wasn't all bad, it was also tons of fun. Recap: New Orleans, San Antonio, Little Rock, Destin, New Branfels, Chicago, Toldeo Bend, Raleigh, Wilmington, Natchez, Philadelphia, Denver.
Lessons learned:
Don't kiss your best friend.
No job is ever secure.
If you sit on your ass on the sofa for 4 months, you will gain weight.
If you eat macaronni and cheese on the sofa for 4 months, you will gain weight.
2008 isn't looking too bad to start with: Denver, Baton Rouge, New Orleans, Fayetteville (Arkansas), Jackson, Little Rock and Puerto Vallarta. NICE. Can I hope that this year was better than the last? Oh I hope and I pray!!! We are 18 days into the new year and I have begun anew. I have become THAT person...did you know that food x has this many calories per serving...did you know that you can eat this much of food y and that's the serving size...I cooked this meal and it only has this many carbs and tastes great!! I'm sorry, we can't open a bottle of wine tonight...I still have to run 3.5 miles before I can call it a day. As long as I'm not sticking my finger down my throat, I'm ok. Although it did cross my mind. Not not really. Well, maybe.
Goals:
Don't kiss your best friend.
Become proficient at counting: Calories, Carbohydrates, Fat, Protein.
Pay off 40% of outstanding credit card debt.
Run 20 miles per week. Consistently.
Debut new look in Mexico in June.
Best friend eats his heart out.
2007 wasn't all bad, it was also tons of fun. Recap: New Orleans, San Antonio, Little Rock, Destin, New Branfels, Chicago, Toldeo Bend, Raleigh, Wilmington, Natchez, Philadelphia, Denver.
Lessons learned:
Don't kiss your best friend.
No job is ever secure.
If you sit on your ass on the sofa for 4 months, you will gain weight.
If you eat macaronni and cheese on the sofa for 4 months, you will gain weight.
2008 isn't looking too bad to start with: Denver, Baton Rouge, New Orleans, Fayetteville (Arkansas), Jackson, Little Rock and Puerto Vallarta. NICE. Can I hope that this year was better than the last? Oh I hope and I pray!!! We are 18 days into the new year and I have begun anew. I have become THAT person...did you know that food x has this many calories per serving...did you know that you can eat this much of food y and that's the serving size...I cooked this meal and it only has this many carbs and tastes great!! I'm sorry, we can't open a bottle of wine tonight...I still have to run 3.5 miles before I can call it a day. As long as I'm not sticking my finger down my throat, I'm ok. Although it did cross my mind. Not not really. Well, maybe.
Goals:
Don't kiss your best friend.
Become proficient at counting: Calories, Carbohydrates, Fat, Protein.
Pay off 40% of outstanding credit card debt.
Run 20 miles per week. Consistently.
Debut new look in Mexico in June.
Best friend eats his heart out.
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