Category Archives: high hopes

2014, I could kiss you

We joked on New Year’s Eve that we should’ve created an effigy of 2013 to beat, burn, stab, etc when the clock struck midnight.  2013 fucking sucked.  But you know what?  I’m feeling good, getting back on the horse, and super excited for 2014.

As a palate cleanser from my last song post, here’s a song that’s not sad, that I don’t cry when listening to, and that I have no emotional connection with except that it sounds like The Kinks meets the Rolling Stones, which can only be awesome.

well, I’m a bit of a photog


I’m self-deprecating by nature, and I don’t really feel comfortable praising myself.  Humility is a valuable asset but sometimes it can really get in the way of development.

We recently got back from at trip to Italy, where i managed to take 1100+ photos.  Why is it that it takes a vacation for me to break out my real camera?  Sure, I use Instagram like every other schmuck on the planet, but I wind up feeling too silly to carry my Nikon around on a regular basis.  Granted, it’s the difference of a 2lb monstrosity vs. a sleek little thing you keep in your pocket, but still.

I think, and others have corroborated, that I take relatively good pictures.  I’m no Annie Lebowitz, but I think I have a pretty good eye and I would like to start taking photography more seriously.  Maybe move beyond the “no flash” mode on my camera and get down and dirty in the art form.  It’s one of the few things that I feel I have maybe a bit of a raw talent for, so rather than decide that I want to be a master painter or a jazz pianist, I should start with something that I have SOME sort of aptitude for.

So anyway, I thought I’d start going through my overloaded hard drive and posting some of my better moments in photography.  The above is one I took in Florence a few weeks ago.  It’s probably my favorite from the whole trip.  Something about the storm clouds and the dreamy colors of the Ponte Vecchio.  The priest walking past was the cherry on the gelato.

Dear skinny jeans…


I will wear you on February 1st.

I make entirely too many resolutions every year, none of which I follow through with. Therefore this year, I’m trying to tone it down a bit. If I can just focus on one or two resolutions obsessively, chances are I’ll be more likely to actually fulfill them.

So rather than the ubiquitous “lose weight” resolution that I’ve made every year for the last 25 years, I’m simplifying it a bit. I bought these jeans ages ago and technically they fit me (or did three weeks ago before I decided to go for broke with my holiday eating), but I’m unsure about the integrity of the button when I pour myself into them. Therefore I’m focusing for right now simply on a January resolution to fit into them *comfortably*. Now these jeans are still a larger size than I find ideal, so it’s not like that will be the end of my struggle. But it will be an important step, and fits that whole SMART theory of goals (Specific, Measurable, Action-Oriented, Realistic, Tangible) that I’m always reading about in my schmillion self-help books.

Wish me luck.

where does the time go?

Dear Internet,

I am in a rut.

A coworker showed me this video that her friend made, which is amazing:

Of course, my version of this video would mainly consist of 1 second snippets of watching tv, vacuuming, cooking half-assed dinners, surfing the web, and sitting at a table in the bar down the street. G thinks that means it’s time to have a baby. And I agree with him on a certain level, and yes we need to get going on that whole baby thing. But in general my life feels so small, and I don’t think having a baby is going to fix that. I spend 90% of my time with G, punctuated here and there by dinner with friends and the occasional drink with coworkers. And even then, it’s me who has to do the asking, because I think of myself as the “out of sight, out of mind” type – when you’re with me I’m reasonably fun, but not enough so to remember to ask me to hang out later.

And this is not to say that I don’t enjoy watching Mad Men and going for beers down the street and keeping the house clean and being with my husband, but when I step back from my life, the pieces don’t connect into something bigger. What can I do to break out of this cycle?

I thought maybe starting the blog back up might help a bit, to hash these things out. I know I could hash things out equally well in private, but something about putting these feelings out for some tiny fraction of the world to see makes me feel like I’m doing something.

So look forward to more thought-detangling to come.

burning bridges

I would like to pose a question to you, dear Internets. Why is it never actually acceptable to storm out on your job? Why is it that in the movies, people are allowed to have that amazing and triumphant moment where they summon all their power and shout those most cathartic of words: “I…QUIT!” Why aren’t we allowed to steal a golf cart and play the boss’s head like a bongo? And when someone finally hits their breaking point and decides to have a tantrum over the PA system, grab a beer, activate the emergency chute and run off into the sunset, they get arrested.

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks at work. Actually, I’ve had a rough five months or so. My job is total chaos all the time, and despite being currently understaffed, I still feel like it’s not going to improve much even when my new hire gets up to speed. They don’t really care whether anyone there has a life or not, whether every day is spent at break neck speeds, running around like a chicken with its head cut off just to get the bare minimum done, choking down lunch at your desk, checking emails from home, staying until 7, 8, 9 o’clock. It’s expected, and no one gives a shit. The work needs to get done and that’s that. Every email I get (and I get hundreds a day) starts with, “I know you’re crazy busy, but…” and ends with, “this really can’t wait any longer, it needs to be done now.”

I am totally miss nice guy at work. I am so nice, the sun shines out my ass. I break my ass to get stuff done, even when it’s not even necessarily my job. I cover for everyone else’s mistakes, I spend hours sorting out issues that are the result of other people’s incompetencies. And yet, in the middle of all the current chaos, the two times I have told people that something can’t be done in the time they want it to be done, they get absolutely furious and demand that it get done.

I come home crying several times a week, I cried in the bathroom twice today and outside once, I have headaches all day, I can’t relax at night, all I think about is having to go back to that goddamn place the next morning. Yet whenever I mention to someone that I might have to just get up and leave one of these days, they immediately say, “Whoa, well, you can’t just do that.” Now granted, I know I can’t just do that. I wouldn’t just do that, I’m not that type of person. I know that if I left tomorrow, everyone I work with would be totally screwed because no one knows how to really do my job, and it’s an integral job. I’ve been there for almost nine years, and I’m not a shitty person. But still, why is it so unnacceptable to just hit that point where you’re mad as hell and you’re not going to take it anymore? Through everything, you’re just expected to keep smiling and being polite, and not complaining too much, and playing nice with everyone. And whenever I mention “just quitting” to anyone, despite the fact that Greg and I have talked about it a hundred times and decided that financially we’d be ok for a while, the solution is immediately, “Well why don’t you look for a new job?” or “Well you have to make sure you have all your ducks in a row first.” What happened to good old fashioned leaping before you look?

You should really read this editorial on the Huffington Post written by a woman who was on the flight with the Jet Blu flight attendant. It pretty much says exactly what I’ve been feeling – that through all the frustration you face in every day life, you’re never allowed to have a meltdown.

So I don’t know, it remains to be seen whether I’ll just storm out. Probably not. But I just hate for people to immediately take that option away from me.

and if you find a new way, you can do it today

Today was one of those days that puts things into perspective a bit. We went to Aunt Annie’s father’s memorial service today, which while a little long and dragged out, was inspirational nonetheless. Her father Bill sounded like quite an amazing man. He was an all around Renaissance man – a philosopher, a scientist, an entrepreneur and a spiritualist. Everyone seemed very taken with him.

The last person who gave a eulogy – a friend and colleague – said something that really hit me: he said, “Bill was a complete person.” Meaning his life’s path was completed, with no strings left untied, despite having passed somewhat suddenly. And I thought, that’s what I want. I want to be a complete person. Right now I feel like I’m about 25% complete.

I lead a small life. I have very few friends and spend 90% of my non-work time with only Greg, I feel no fulfillment from my job, I don’t have a career path, I am completely wrapped up in my own stress and idiosyncrasies, and if I died tomorrow there wouldn’t be much to say about me. I want to be bigger than that. I want to have a big circle of loving friends, and to make a difference in the world, even if it’s just a small one. I want to inspire people and to be inspired by people. I want to love life and love my job and love everyone around me.

I’m only thirty one. That’s not very old. And you’re never too old to change yourself. There’s no reward in this life without risk – risk of business ventures, risk of reaching out to people, , risk of going new places, risk of putting yourself out there in every way, always, regardless of what you get back. But really, if I put love out into the world, what would I get back but love in return?

So I’m going to do it. I’m going to be a complete person. Starting now.

P.S. I really wish transcendental meditation courses weren’t so expensive.