Thursday, February 14, 2013

Blog #154: Love and Ashes

Happy Valentine's Day lovers!

That was weird.

But seriously. Today is a fun day. It is fun no matter what your situation is. No one is saying coupledom is inherently better than singledom or vice versa. I'm just saying that a day devoted to sweets, love, love songs, and giving people cards is a good day. And also I like wearing my red pants.

I've written Valentine's Day posts before (here is a good one from 2011) so I don't feel the need to go on too much about it today. Also, I'm about to carb/sugar crash because of the heart shaped bagel, strawberry cake bar, and giant sugar cookie I've managed to eat before noon.

I tried to go to the gym before church last night. I had a strength workout prescribed by my trainer so I did 20 minutes of cardio on the treadmill to warm up and then headed over to the TRX rope things that the bulk of my listed exercises depends on. AND THERE WERE PEOPLE. No one was using the thing that I needed to use but there were so many guys standing around using the equipment right next to it and blocking my space. I was beside myself. Did they not realize I was on a schedule? I stood around awkwardly for a minute before leaving post haste to finish whatever strength exercises I could manage at home.

Then I went to Ash Wednesday. It's one of my favorite services. Weird how a solemn day meant to basically remind you of your mortality and helplessness is such a favorite of mine. Maybe I'll go into therapy and figure it out at a later date. That's neither here nor there. I wanted to note 2 things about the service.

1. We got to sing my favorite hymn (My Song is Love Unknown) during communion. Unfortunately, whenever this happens I turn it into this anxious obsessive moment. First of all, it was the second song listed. The organist took awhile to get started and we were getting through the communion pretty quickly and I began to worry that we wouldn't get to it. I started silently tapping my fingers on my bulletin and occasionally craning my neck back to see where the organist sat and why she wasn't getting on her game. Obviously we had plenty of time for the song and then some but leave it to me to find some way to feel anxiety over a hymn.
2. You guys. I am a child. A friggin' 8 year old. EVERY YEAR, as I line up to get my ashes I am first reminded what a solemn and meaningful moment it is. Then, as I get closer and my turn approaches, my brain decides that this would be a good time to remind me how incredibly inappropriate any form of laughter would be during the distribution of the ashes. Obviously. What do I do immediately upon knowing that this would be the worse possible time to laugh? I spent the next 2 minutes in line twisting my mouth in all kinds of contortions to keep from smiling while keeping my head down. Then, I as I looked up at the pastor to get my ashes, he held his forefinger out to make a cross on my head, but in my mind for a brief second I thought he would just poke me in the nose with his ashy finger and say "BOOP! GOT YOUR NOSE!" You picture an old man doing that to your face in a church and try not to smile. Anyhow, proud to say that I made it though I did immediately look down and walk very quickly back to my seat after I got my ashes. To dust I shall return indeed.

Then I went home and baked all kinds of deliciousness for various sets of Valentine's (work, the boy).

Enjoy the rest of your day of LURRRRVE.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Blog #153: I was funnier 5-7 years ago

I keep going back and reading my old xanga (password protected for those of you that would try to search for me) and just LAUGHING because that girl was hilarious. And not in a "I can't believe I wrote that" laughing AT kind of hilarious but just really funny. I don't think I really knew it at the time. I mean, my main goal was usually to be light hearted and jokey (as it often is here though sometimes I spend an inordinate amount of time being overly wordy and talking about my nutrition) but I guess maybe I didn't realize I was accomplishing it.  I don't feel very funny on my blogger all the time. Maybe I use up all my wit on Twitter. Probably my nearly daily xanga habit was the cause of my free flowing easy writing style. I imagine that if I kept this up as frequently maybe I could someday be that funny again.  So maybe I'll just start telling random stories about my day and seeing if I can get back in the practice of getting a laugh here and there by posting more often.

I could tell you about last Friday.

I had worked out over lunch and chosen comfy clothes to wear to work (leggings and a longish loose striped shirt and ballet flats). My boss came in for the day at 2pm (it's good to be king) and saw me with my hair in a ridiculously bad messy bun (yes, there actually is such a thing as a bad messy bun) and headband to hide my sweaty bangs. Any makeup I'd had on had likely been a victim of the gym as well. I had no reason to reapply it. He looked at me and said "Have you just given  up now? Is that it?"

This, from the same man I once witnessed conduct an interview in green tear away track pants and a black hoodie while the interviewee wore a suit and tie. But that's neither here nor there.

I probably did look pretty ridiculous for an office setting. An outfit that could basically double as pajamas would probably have been more acceptable if my face/hair were to par (which it mostly was before lunch). However it was a Friday and I had already told him that I was going to work out over lunch so I'm not sure what he expected.

It's a bit of a wake up call though. I have noticed that as I get more comfortable in a relationship my motivation to look halfway decent in anything EXCEPT for things involving the relationship (dates, group outings, family gatherings) goes away. Why do I need to look good at work? I'm not trying to impress anyone new! I might have taken this too far in the name of sleeping an extra 30 minutes in the mornings. But I'm only human.

(Please do not worry about the seeming verbal abuse from my boss. It's okay. It's the kind of rapport we have. I've made a number of comments about his wardrobe choices.)

PS I'm taking the NCE next Wednesday. Hopefully that means I'll be more marketable in my chosen field. Unfortunately that will mean that I will not have my boss to use as material for all my funny stories anymore.