Riding the Waves

This has been a bit unusual for me. Apologies, this will be a long one.

Last night, I went out to the Twins game with some friends. We had a good time despite our team's loss. As a true fan, I can't leave before the last out of the last inning, so we stayed until the bitter end. It was a long game. I usually go to bed between 9:30 and 10:00 on work nights. The Twins game didn't end until at least 10:30. After pushing our way through the crowd out of the park and the drive back to my house, I didn't get to bed until 11:30, two hours past my usual bedtime. Late night for me.

I still got up at my usual time, and work was fine. I wasn't struggling to stay awake or anything - I've actually been quite busy lately at the office, and I'm grateful for that. Busy is much better than bored, and it's far easier to stay awake after a night under the bright lights at Target Field. I do admit to drinking 2 cups of coffee instead of my usual one cup, however.

I'm reading the book The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo right now, and up until recently the book has been a struggle for me. But it finally got good - really good. I don't want to put it down. After I got home from work, instead of my customary TV watching, I spent an hour or so reading. Then I realized I wasn't actually reading the words on the page - I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I took a 30-minute nap.

This break from routine was not a good idea.

For some reason, I woke up from the nap in a funk. I was feeling really bummed out. Since I took a nap at 5:30 in the afternoon, I felt like a lazy fat slob. I'm hosting a little BBQ for the Fourth of July, and my house is nowhere near clean. And then, pretty much out of nowhere, I realize that I haven't even been on a date in almost a year. So I'm down on myself about that as well.

I had ordered some new bras last week (one of my good ones broke and Lane Bryant was having a sale), and they happened to arrive in the mail today. For some reason, trying on new bras always cheers me up. I know definitively what size I wear, so there's no doubt whether or not they'll fit - instead it's just a matter of trying them on to see if they look nice. I may not always be happy with my body, but I like my boobs, and I like the way they look in a nice bra.

The good feeling was temporary. The bra I was most excited about trying was the "Ultimate sports bra," which is part of a new line of sports bras - they've never had sports bras before. I've been needing one that actually fits. For some reason, I can barely get the sports bra hooked, it's so tight. I don't get it. It's the same size as the other bras, and it should fit just like the others, right? Or is their way of adding support to the sports bra just making it tighter? I don't get it. And I don't like it. And it looks like crap.

Bad mood back.

Here's my thought process: "I'm never going to find a comfortable sports bra that actually fits." ---> "I'm never going to be able to have a good work-out without a good sports bra." ---> "If I can't work out, I'll never lose weight." ---> "If I can't lose weight, no man will ever look at me again." ---> "I'm a horrible, hopeless, pathetic mess."

As you can see, I entered a terrible self-destructive cycle. I managed to talk myself out of doing anything productive this evening. I didn't even add chicken to my rice tonight for dinner because I didn't feel like dirtying another pan.

Since 7, I've been watching "Hell's Kitchen" on TV, and I've mostly gotten back to normal. I'm going to turn in a little early tonight so that I don't end up in the same position tomorrow as I was today.

I have a lot I need to do tomorrow. I can't let my brain get in the way. That only slows me down.

Phone Woes

I love my cell phone. Really, I do. It helps that my service provider pretty much gave it to me for free. It has all the features I like in a cell phone - it can do phone calls AND text messages. Sure, it has a camera, too, but I don't really care about that. I don't like paying for picture messages anyway.

I've had this phone for about a year (I really don't remember when I got it, but it wasn't too long ago... maybe over a year, since I think I was in my old apartment when I got this one). It's a trusty little phone - I can't tell you how many times I've dropped it. Cute little navy blue slide phone with a decent-sized screen. It looks a little beat up, but it works well.

Wait, scratch that. It WORKED well. Past tense.

I was in the middle of a couple text-message conversations over my lunch break. I'd slide the phone closed in between messages because that makes the screen go dark faster. When I got a message, I'd slide open the phone, read it, and reply. But suddenly, when I slid open the phone, all I got was a blank white screen. I tried pushing buttons - nothing happened. I tried turning it off and on again - I could read my messages, and reply, but as soon as I closed the phone, the same thing happened. Again and again. Now, hours later, it's still doing the same thing.

I don't want a new phone. I like this phone.

So I went to Google. Typed in "troubleshooting for Samsung phones," was directed to Samsung's website. Entered the model number for the phone. Launched the troubleshooting tool. What does it tell me? "If your phone has a blank LCD, it will need to be sent in for service. Click the button below to create an online service request!" With the exclamation point. Or, since I wasn't sure what sort of problem this should be classified under, I got this response: "If the backlight on your phone is not working properly it might be possible to resolve the issue by changing the settings on the phone."

That's it. Send it in for service, or change the settings. Change the settings to what? I don't know. Change which settings? No idea. That's all it says, nowhere to click for more information without calling tech support.

Hey, look at this! A feedback form! "Was the above article helpful?" Um, NO. I wouldn't even call it an article. It was a sentence. Not a very helpful one, either.

I wonder if I'm actually due for a new phone on my plan. It might be time...

Happy Valentine's Day, Nobody!

This post is going to be a bit of a rant. Just wanted to give you fair warning.

I used to describe myself as a hopeless romantic. I loved anything with a love story, and had countless fantasies where I found true love with the perfect man, and we'd live happily ever after. I just knew it had to happen to me some day.

Then I grew up. I'm still a sucker for a love story in fiction, but when it comes to myself, I've lost hope. One of the reasons I've decided to have my big birthday party in Vegas this fall is because I've convinced myself that I'm never going to have a wedding - you know, the day you get to dress like a princess and profess your love in front of your family and friends - and I want a day that's really all about me. I want to have a kid someday. Really. But I also have a hard time seeing myself as the single mom type, so I doubt it's going to happen because I'll never find a father for the little tyke.

I am now a skeptical romantic. Deep down, I want to believe that everything I thought of as a kid is true, and magic will still happen. But the realist in me knows that's never going to happen.

This brings us to the matter at hand: Valentine's Day.

*puke*

Sorry about that. It's just that we've been hit over the head so many times with how wonderful Valentine's Day is, and how great it is to celebrate the love you share for your partner with a special day filled with candy and flowers and... all that magic crap I dreamed of as a kid. Except it's all hogwash. We're hit over the heads with it because it's all about money. The candy companies and the flower companies and the diamond companies want you to buy into the implied necessity to shower your significant other with gifts. I mean, if your boyfriend doesn't buy you a diamond necklace for Valentine's day, he doesn't really love you, right?

Allow me to reiterate: *puke*

Yeah, presents are nice. I wouldn't reject that diamond necklace if someone gave it to me. But it sucks that presents are considered the norm.

You know what? I'm sick of Valentine's Day. I'm sick of people talking about Valentine's Day. I'm sick of hearing about the special things people are going to be doing for their husbands and wives and boyfriends and girlfriends. I'm sick of it all. I'm sick of the wave of Facebook posts that say "change your profile pic to one of you and your significant other and say how long you've been together." I'm sick of all the stupid hearts everywhere - and I like pink! I just get overwhelmed by the bombardment of the color everywhere this time of year.

Here's a good one: I'm sick of seeing commercials on TV for online dating websites. Give me a freaking break.

I'm sick of it all. I'm even sick of the "alternatives" to Valentine's Day. Anything for the "single folks" on the day is just a slap in the face. "Aww, you're alone! That's so sad!" It's always pity, even if it's pity disguised as a party or a TV episode or something of the sort. I don't want a pity party because I'm single.

I'd probably feel differently if I were in a relationship. I'd probably have plans to go out to a nice restaurant instead of plans of staying home and watching the Food Network in my pajamas. But in my entire life, I've had one date on Valentine's Day. And that day was fine. Not ideal, but fine. But in the end, he dumped me later that week. And I hate that. I hate that that one incident makes me hate Valentine's Day even more - and rather than just supporting all my other Valentine's hate, it just flares up a whole new feeling inside. It's the feeling that says, "no, you're not so bad off that you can't find anybody - you're even worse because you can't hold on to the ones you do find." And then I hate myself because that guy was so not worth it.

So there. I'm going to shut up now before I make myself feel even worse.


In other news, I've decided that I like shrimp. As long as it is battered and fried to the point where it no longer tastes like shrimp.

Rut.

I'm in a rut. I'm not happy. I'm happy with some of the changes I've made to my life, but that's not enough. There are bigger things about my life that don't make me happy.

Right now, the only things I truly enjoy are my TV shows (and only new episodes, apparently, because I had no idea what to do last night when "How I Met Your Mother" was a rerun) and planning my 30th birthday party in Vegas - which I can't even do properly right now because I don't know how much money I'll have or even which weekend the party will be. I don't think that's good. And this realization has put me in a very bad mood.

There are small things bugging me today, too. The socks I'm wearing keep sliding off my heels and into my shoes. I've got a headache. I'm either too hot or too cold depending on whether or not I'm wearing the fleece jacket I keep at my desk.

But those are just little things. There are big things.

I'm tired of my job. I'm not tired of the people I work with, or even the place where I work. I'm sick of the actual work that I do every day. I'm not very motivated - the only reason things get done is because I'm a stickler for deadlines. I want more responsibility, but at the same time, I'm afraid that my lack of motivation will carry over to new tasks I might learn, and then I won't really learn them very well and I'll no longer be good at my job. Because I like the fact that I'm good at my job right now. The problem is, I'm also too good for my job. And now I've grown used to it.

I've been talking about getting my MBA for a long time now. You know, getting those promotions that are currently out of reach and becoming "The Man" and all that. Except... do I really want that? Or do I just think I'm interested in things like finance because it would be a good idea for my career? My student loan debt is finally under $10,000. Do I really want to see that go back up for a degree I don't even really care about?

Yesterday, a friend and I were joking about going back to school to get a degree in meteorology because we like talking about the weather. The University of Minnesota does not have a graduate program in meteorology (which is surprising, considering how popular a topic weather is around here), but my friend said that the University of Utah (where she lives) does. And instead of just brushing it off, I actually went to the University of Utah website and looked up the degree program and what their application guidelines were. Not that I particularly want to leave Minnesota and move to Utah, but it was the idea of change that appealed to me.

You know what I really want to do? I want to write for TV. I don't want to write about TV or write reviews of TV. I want to write TV itself. I want to be a television writer. I don't know how to get into that business, though. I don't even know where to begin. For novels, sure, I know where to begin. But TV? I don't even know how to format a TV script. So, what, do I go back to college for TV writing? Can I do that here in MN, or do I have to move to LA or New York? And is it worth turning my whole life upside down for a career that I'm sure is very competitive and probably unlikely to make a decent living with? Did that last sentence even make sense? Why do I think that I can be any kind of writer?

Yeah. That's what's going through my head today. And, to make matters worse, it's Tuesday and I've already eaten out twice this week. The lunch I brought yesterday is still sitting in the overhead bin at my desk. *sigh*

For the Record: Periwinkle

A few days ago, I got a message in my Facebook inbox about how I should post the color of the bra I was wearing as my status update to raise awareness for breast cancer. My first thought was "meh." Breast cancer isn't something that I feel passionate about, and I like my clever, witty (ok, sometimes mundane) status updates better. Besides - I was just wearing a boring old beige bra. Where's the fun in that?

As the day went on, I saw more and more status updates with colors in them. I thought about playing along because it seemed the cool thing to do. But I didn't. It's not like I was raising money for charity or anything.

Last night, one of my friends posted this link to an article about the fad. It wasn't started by any of the major breast-cancer-awareness organizations. But according to those organizations, the little Facebook post-your-bra-color trend actually did raise awareness for breast cancer.

... really?

I mean, come on. Breast cancer is by far the most popular cancer (colon cancer tried for a while, but do you hear anyone talk about it anymore? No, but you can still buy a pink Kitchen-Aid stand mixer). Did breast cancer really need any more awareness? Weren't we all already aware of it? People still get breast cancer, but thanks to all the awareness out there, fewer women are dying from it (this article sums it up nicely, including this statistic: "Mortality of it has dropped over two percent a year since 1990 and rates remain to go down," or this article if you like tables).

Did the fact that countless women posted their bra colors on Facebook cause even one woman to say, "hey, I should schedule a mammogram?" Somehow, I doubt it. I think our culture is over saturated with breast cancer awareness, and the women who are going to get checked out are already getting checked for it regularly. The women who aren't getting their mammograms will continue to ignore the need - or, like a large percentage of Facebook users, are young enough to not require regular breast cancer screenings.

All right, maybe the Facebook game did raise some breast cancer awareness - but it's awareness in people who are already aware. Does that count as successful?

I think we should "raise awareness" for prostate cancer next. Men of Facebook, I ask you: boxers or briefs?

Breaking the Rules for a Good Cause

I told myself I wasn't going to spend money I don't really need to spend. It hasn't even been a week, but I'm already seriously contemplating breaking my own rules. I came across something... well, I don't need it, but it's something that's really cool to me.

I've recently been reading the book The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. It's fantastic. I love it. One of the best books I've ever read. The only bad thing I can say about it is that it's the first in a trilogy and the sequel isn't out yet (the current publication date listed on Amazon.com is June 1, 2011). I wouldn't be surprised if I end up reading this books multiple times before the next one comes out.

There's the set-up. On a message board I read online daily, someone posted that Pat Rothfuss is having a charity-fundraiser event on his blog. So, naturally, I went to Rothfuss's blog to see what the deal is. The charity is Heifer International, whose mission is to give animals to impoverished families (not pets, but animals like goats and chickens to give families necessities for life). You can read all about it in that link. Rothfuss has his own project, raising money for Heifer International, and it includes a lot of cool prizes. Here's his blog post about the whole deal: Fundraiser.

Scroll down on that page and learn a bit about the prizes and the Golden Ticket. For every $10 I donate, I get a chance to win one of those fabulous prizes. And the Golden Ticket. Of course, the Golden Ticket is also up for auction on eBay, but considering the bid is already over $15,000, I've got a feeling I won't be winning that one.

If you scroll down farther on the Fundraiser link, though, you'll see the "sure thing" section. There, I could get a personalized copy of The Name of the Wind. Hardcover, and he'll sign it with whatever I want. Yeah, I could just watch his schedule for a time he's doing a signing somewhere, but this is easier, for a good cause, and it'll get me a nice hardcover copy of the book (sadly, the first editions are sold out).

I'm going to at least donate $10 for a chance at something cool, but I'm still mulling over whether or not I want to spend the $45 on the hardcover. It's a lot of money for someone who is trying to save.

Side note: Apparently Rothfuss lives in Stevens Point, WI. I have a feeling that if I started stalking him, it would take even longer for the rest of the trilogy to be published. Phooey.