Wired Neatness

Some people’s brains are wired to make them operate in a disorganized fashion. Others prefer neatness. Then, there is me. Since I was young, I have always felt best having my things lined up in a very precise way. You will not find me with a tape measure counting the exact centimeters between each book on the bookshelf but I do enjoy a sense of order. There is a place and function for everything even if that means just an aesthetic happiness. I get an odd satisfaction out of organizing spaces, in fact I have been known to solicit friends as clients and perform a makeover on any said space or work area. Some find this a tedious chore but I function much more happily if the space around me is both neat and makes sense. It is more than safe to say that I inherited this from my father. This is a man who as a young child, could tell if one of his brothers had borrowed a writing utensil from his desk simply by judging the ratio of desk to pencil space. I guess there are times where I fall into similar habits. I cannot fully enjoy the space around me unless it is meticulously structured. I find myself constantly tweaking and rearranging my living area to make things just so. Some are creatures of habit, but I do understand that some people simply do not care about putting the effort into this sort of thing. Friends and strangers alike, if anyone needs assistance in this field please feel free to make contact!

Napping Nostalgia

It’s hard to believe a time existed where I tried to avoid the afternoon nap. Growing up as a child filled with energy, I was constantly trying to learn and investigate. Taking time to shut one’s eyes was really just an obstacle in acquiring knowledge of all things. Take for example naptime in Kindergarden. Sure this was probably more for the teacher’s sanity but personally, when we were all told to get our mats out and observe the naptime rules of silence, I found this extremely difficult. I mean what kind of teacher would want to make us stop having fun? Going to slumber parties years later proved to be no different. Yes, it may have been annoying to hear laughter at all hours of the night but hey, I was having a grand old time. Who needed sleep? It seemed that when the pressures of life increased, so did that desire to slumber. I knew a few friends in college who tried, unsuccessfully, to master sleeping with their eyes open during classes. Needless to say this was quite the amusing failure. If only we could somehow transport these once dreaded afternoon naps of childhood into the daily adult life. If there were suddenly a rule among corporations worldwide requiring that their employees partake in an afternoon snooze, I’m willing to bet there would not be protest lines and picketers crowding local politicians. Business meetings would run more smoothly, late afternoon vending machine binges would be avoided and everyone could reunite with their loved ones after a long day feeling refreshed and exhilarated. You would no longer find yourself snapping at coworkers for no real reason, muttering under your breath at fellow drivers or shooting subconscious evil glares while fueling your car at a gas station. Some countries have already taken this brilliant idea and implemented it into daily life. Until this wonderful shift is made, I will stick to the lovely, and highly anticipated Sunday afternoon shuteye.

Junky, Fitness Junky

Nearly four years ago I thought the idea of a successful fitness plan was walking to class rather than begging desperately to borrow my roommate’s car at the last minute. In that same mindset, a successful meal was really anything between classes or late at night. The key word there being anything. It was almost as if someone had started a vicious rumor that the beloved Bojangles, Steak-N-Shake and Cook Out were suddenly going to vanish off of Elon’s campus and we HAD to get there right away. Now, I will admit, there sometimes is nothing better than a delicious cookout milkshake- my personal choice being Cherry Cheesecake- but it’s funny how magically the daily sugar cravings and lusting after fried food have been replaced with the desire for whole grains, lean protein and VEGETABLES. I will be the first to admit that the Filet-O-Fish from McDonalds is quite delicious but this has turned into the rare treat rather than the dietary staple. And it’s not just me. Friends from home have reformed their ways, hopped on the exercise bandwagon and really started taking control of the items their bodies process. It’s as if all those studies about the food pyramids back in elementary school were just lurking quietly in our memory banks for that AHAH moment. Or, maybe we all just got sedentary jobs behind desks where we had to either face these changes or become borderline diabetics. The fact is, it has been more fun than torture. More easy shifts rather than late night meltdowns over a frozen treat in the freezer. In the world of a twenty something person, there are an extreme number of unknowns and this is just one way of saying YES I can control this. I mean, really why not? So please feel free to join me sometime for that scrumptious Filet-O-Fish but be ready to put in a few miles afterwards!

Dating Show Frenzy

Can someone please tell me what it is about dating shows that seem to suck away all common sense and solid decision making ability? I mean really, I forget tasks for the evening and find myself engrossed in marathon showings of these highly predictable, scripted train wrecks. Growing up with about four or occasionally five TV stations, I got used to the stellar UPN lineup consisting old favorites like Blind Date and Elimidate. Let’s be honest, you have probably seen these at least once. And even if you acted like you hated it the whole time- you know who you are- there is just a natural human sense of curiosity that takes over. Dating can be pretty daunting so why not just watch other people flounder around trying? There is always some sort of scandal, some outrageous single willing to say or do pretty much about anything so while most of the guesswork is out of the equation, we all still end up tuning in. Take The Bachelor. It’s a pretty bold move to block off a two hour chunk every week but as there have been at least ten seasons and counting, it’s obvious that someone is watching. I'm as guilty as the next person- I mean I form opinions, pick favorites and defend individuals like I have known them a whole lifetime. As if being kicked off one of these shows is not enough, they have a reunion of all the rejected ladies so they can sit around and relive painful memories. Is this supposed to make us feel better about the hard times in life? Well, it does secretly make me feel grateful that I’m not out embarrassing myself and my family in hopes of awkwardly gaining some stranger’s approval. I know this making my Mom proud but I will continue to tune in because let’s face it- we want to know who Jake chooses.

Twenty Six Going on Eighty

In case there was any confusion on the matter, I would like to clarify that I am not in college anymore. While this may seem like a rather obvious fact, I was reminded of this during a recent journey to visit some old friends. Pulling an all nighter in college seemed to be both a frequent and effortless endeavor. Fast forward a mere three and a half years and this same feat is met with fatigue, crankiness and general discomfort. That’s right everyone…we are all getting older. Some function perfectly on just a few hours of sleep but when I try to pull this kind of prank, my body revolts and decides to greet me with some sort of cold, sinus infection or in the worst cases - the flu. Apparently, the same goes for not properly hydrating, eating irregular and strange meals and consuming more than one glass of wine. Those crazy college kids may be able to eat a whole pizza at two in the morning but I’m pretty sure my arsenal of home remedies including Tums, Pepto Bismol and Rolaids would argue that this is in fact not the best plan of action. I suppose I should step into the elderly mindset of this post and use the phrase “back in the day” to refer to the exploratory time known as college. The late nights, heavy meals and constant on-the-go attitude never seemed to catch up with any of us. Let's just say that nostalgically trying to replicate the good old days would be ill advised. So, let us all set our early morning alarm clocks, take a daily multi-vitamin and gear up our bodies for the work week. Emergen-C packets are my personal recommendation…oh, and not acting like a nineteen year old. Hope everyone survives the week!

Goodbye Sweets

For those of you who are practicing Catholics, today marks the first day of the Lenten season. It also marks the start to the period where many give up their favorite food, habit or vice for the next forty days. In past experience, this has started out well. The goals are set, and the pantry is raided of all sweets, unhealthy food and post-its are left around the home and workplace with friendly reminders. “No Soda” or perhaps “No Smoking” notes of inspiration are found scattered with exclamation marks and enthusiastic smiley faces. The best of intentions are set out early on, but for some this can be a real testament to boundaries more than that of faith. Take for example a coworker I had a few years back who gave up caffeine. Keep in mind this is a person who seemed to shoot lasers through you if your morning greeting did not include a nice hot cup of java. The Lenten season started out smoothly, with talks of switching to hot tea and making long-term, health conscious life changes. Then, somewhat like Jekyll and Hyde things took a sudden and rather unfortunate turn for the worst. Like any addict, there were warning signs. It started with the late arrival for work. Then throw in the haggard appearance and the inability to focus on things that once seemed to derive such joy and excitement. While this downhill spiral only occurred on day five, it is a truth that this season can be hard for both the devout and inactive religious follower. Personally, I am giving up deserts. That means cookies and candies including my personal favorite: dark chocolate. I will clarify that my daily morning snack of Greek yogurt, blueberries and almonds does NOT fall into this category. Balancing personal goals with the ability to keep close friends around could be challenging but is by no means impossible. Good luck everyone- I hope to hear back from you in forty.

Oh Canada

Maybe it’s just me, but does it seem like the summer Olympics get a boatload more coverage than the winter games? It could be that I seem to be busier in the winter, or maybe I just don’t have the same stalker-like tendencies when Baltimore’s own Michael Phelps is not sweeping up the Gold medals. For whatever reason, there seems to be a greater opening ceremony countdown when the warmer months roll around. Over the past few years, I have noticed that the location of these games seems to be directly linked to the public’s excitement level. When I think of Canada, my initial thoughts are of Celine Dion and the smog that graced the East Coast more than a decade ago. Without sounding like I am carrying some sort of strange grudge, let me state that I have nothing against this beautiful place and will simply say that my knowledge of Canada is limited. I do know that they have more liberal rules on same-sex marriage, the legal drinking age, and the fashion guidelines of a policeman on horseback. Not to downplay any of this, or the breathtaking scenery but there just seems to be something missing. I don’t think I’m alone in my age group when I say that the details of the Olympics this year fell pretty low on everyone’s radar. I will say that with the exception of a few guilty pleasure shows, I do not consider myself a television addict. I am however an avid reader of various online news sites and in previous years it seemed that there was some sort of elaborate Olympic preview getting everyone geared up for the competition. The bottom line is, I hope this is just a case of me being tuned out to the latest sporting news and that these athletes are getting the recognition and praise they deserve. Canada, my non home and native land, I am sure you are being a fine host. However, it is obvious that this viewer will need a bit more warning for the next few televised lineups.

I Heart Avalons

My hatred for the Toyota Avalon goes back so far I'm even sure my Learner’s Permit was something on the horizon. It all started the evening my family went to look at a new car for Dad. Going to the Toyota dealership was in general, pretty exciting. Then add in a young teenager and the access to sit in pretty much any car in the showroom and it equates to a really fun evening. After arriving, I gravitated over to the showroom’s brand new Avalon and slipped in the driver’s seat. I am sure I had these awesome visions of myself zooming down the road, picking up some friends, and just being generally cool. There were even some pretend revving of the engine sound effects manufactured by yours truly, and some pretend swerving and off roading. The fun and games ended when it was time to exit this wonderful sedan. For whatever reason, this Avalon had decided to automatically lock me in like there was some possibility that I would steal the keys, drive this car through the glass window and out of the showroom. While a somewhat epic scene mirroring Ferris Bueller’s Day Off did come to mind, there was no way someone under the age of sixteen would even come close to pulling this off. So, you could imagine my surprise when I was suddenly unable to get out of the car. I did the usual trouble shooting, tried the automatic lock button and finally resorted to manually unlocking my door. This seemed like the right move at the time. WRONG. Not three seconds after I had switched the lock, the whole showroom erupted in ear piercing siren noises. Keep in mind we are indoors. At night. With not too many other people trying to break into, or out of the display vehicles. At this time, my parents were trying to conduct some actual business and as I searched frantically for them, I glazed over a few annoyed and somewhat amused faces of the dealership employees. It took them what seemed like twenty minutes to locate the “special” key that stopped this alarm. Personally, I do not think enough haste was made in helping this embarrassed young girl flee the scene. While I eventually dated a guy in High School who drove an Avalon, and have a friend who used to own one, I still have a special and rather comical hatred in my heart for that vehicle. And to anyone out there going to test drive this car, I advise you to use caution- and the automatic locks at all times.

Childcare in Training

I like to believe that having a pet is like putting the on training wheels for having a child. That is, unless you have my cat Tilla. In that case, it feels that on some days I am raising twins. I had heard that cats were weird, but I did not fully grasp this until I adopted one. Almost three years ago, I was doing my volunteer training hours at the Asheville Humane Society when I stumbled upon the face that I now refer to as my furry child. I made my apartment “cat friendly” and completed the adoption process, all the while very excited to add this small creature to my home. Tilla and I spent the next few days staring at each other as she got used to her new living space and I got used to the strange tendencies of a feline. To start, I had to adjust to falling asleep with a ferocious hunter on the loose. For the first few nights I would stretch out completely still in anticipation of her attacking my feet in the middle of the night. After a few days I think my exhaustion got the best of me and I learned to simply get used to this (now) twelve pound weight jumping on me in the wee hours of the morning. Let’s go back to that cat-proofing I attempted for my apartment. Somewhat like toddlers, I am not really quite sure what to expect when I leave Tilla by herself. One afternoon I went to take the trash out- please keep in mind this activity takes a whole oh, I don’t know, five minutes. I left Tilla up in the apartment peacefully minding her own business, which in this particular case meant sleeping. When I returned expecting the same tranquil scene, I was greeting with what looked like a small tornado landing site. In those few minutes, Tilla had knocked her food plate all over the floor, completely toppled her water bowl, knocked all the magazines and flowers off the dining room table and had somehow managed to get her front claw stuck in the blinds. Yup, I came back to a war zone with Tilla looking at me sheepishly as she awkwardly hung there by one paw. Helping a small one get out of a potentially distressing situation and cleaning up a large mess? Check. While this may not fully equate to having a child, I’m pretty sure that one thing is the same; caring for someone or something is nothing short of eventful.

Make It Or Break It

Word on the street is that it takes two weeks to make or break a habit. I forced myself into believing this when I started training for a 5K this summer. The race was in November and while I had these initial images of paramedics following me closely over those 3.4 miles, I ended up not only finishing the race, but running the whole way. The next challenge on the horizon is the 10K. For those of you who are not familiar or simply don’t care about the world of running, this equates to a little over six miles. For me, this would currently clock me at roughly sixty five minutes of straight forward motion. While some runners focus on beating their best time, I am focusing on simply finishing. The race is in April so I have a little over two months to prepare myself. In more optimistic terms, I am giving myself two weeks to make a new habit – running four miles. After that, the ante will be upped to five and well, you see the trend. It is a fact that I now get rather disgruntled if I go more than a day without hitting the pavement, or in the months of December thru March, the treadmill. It is also a fact that a mere eight years ago I never thought I would find myself running- gasp- for FUN. During High School I ran cross country to train for the upcoming and might I add, tough basketball season. My Cross Country coach was a woman named Janice who had a strong New York accent and wore a clip-on hair extension. Basically, I learned to expect all sass all the time. There were race days where she would encourage us to yell obscenities at her and show her some colorful hand gestures under one condition, we keep running. While there were times when I happily took her up on these suggestions, I have to say they did work. Oh Janice, wherever you are, I know you would be proud. Turns out several weeks may not be enough to mold someone into a fitness junky but it certainly plants the seed. Please note this current enthusiasm because there is a strong possibility there will be a future post completely derailing my running progress. However, I will say to anyone who thought they could never be a runner; I am proof that you can become one. Just plan on taking things (two) weeks at a time.

Love, Everything But the Decorations

While retail stores like to go crazy around the holidays, it seems that this year the shopping frenzy is extending all the way into the middle of February. The exact date can be pinpointed to, that’s right, Sunday February 14th. I should have prepared myself when I started seeing commercials in January for shiny necklaces and bracelets promising to be that perfect gift to show your loved one you really care. Has anyone else noticed that expensive gifts can also be directly linked to colossal mistakes or apologies deeming jeweled items from a catalog? Let me interject with what some of you may be thinking. No, I am not a single twenty-something woman angry about not having a Valentine. I am however, someone who is sick of the commercialization of every single excuse to dress up or buy stuff. First there was Halloween where let’s face it, is reserved for children and women who feel for one night, they are allowed to wear anything that remotely resembles a costume. Before the cobwebs are brushed down, you breeze through a few turkeys and pilgrims and then BOOM you are hit with the phenomenon that comprises Christmas decorations. After the New Year rolls around, I can become exhausted watching commercials in the privacy of my own apartment- never mind going out and actually doing some shopping. I enjoy sending Valentines and going out for a bite to eat but for some, it seems to be a slippery slope into a manic purchasing spree. Let’s just all relax, put down the credit cards and enjoy our loved ones- without decorations- all year round!

There's a Game Tonight?

Let’s be honest, I am only interested in the Superbowl if the Ravens are involved. Since they fell out of the running a while back, I temporarily forgot that the Superbowl was this weekend. Sadly, I was reminded of this when I made the foolish decision to venture out to the local grocery store. My first clue should have been the parking lot. This was a casual trip for me as I was simply stocking up on a few items I had neglected to get while at the store earlier this week. For the other ninety-eight percent of the drivers in that parking lot, this was an extreme mission. Heaven forbid that the meatiest and grossest snacks be purchased less than five hours prior to kickoff! While circling the parking lot and beginning to feel like a cutthroat vulture narrowing in on its prey, I decided to tone it down a notch and park over in the Walgreens parking lot. This did involve a longer, more dangerous path through this pavement-made gauntlet but I finally managed to enter the store in one piece. Once I passed a few weathered looking employees and made my way into the produce section I decided it best to map out my plan of attack. Amidst the occasional sports jersey for one of the two teams playing tonight, I realized that this could perhaps be an even worse scene than the pre-snowfall frenzy mentioned a few posts back. There were some people who had assembled lists and seemed to be splitting off various members of their entourage with assigned tasks and items to gather. There were also a few men who had obviously decided they could handle things without the help of a shopping cart and were dangerously trying to juggle cases of beer with frozen wings and various dipping sauces. Thankfully, the items on my list did not seem to overlap with the general consensus of must have purchases and I managed to swing by the olive bar and gather my Smart Balance vegetable spread unscathed. Note to self, next year do not attempt to do any sort of serious shopping hours before the Superbowl. On second thought, maybe avoiding any grocery establishment the day of this sporting event is best. Maybe next year Ravens?

Welcome to Dell

Some people know how to fix cars, others know a great deal about the wonders of installing cable television. Over the past few weeks, I have learned how to dismantle, and unsuccessfully repair my poor Dell laptop. My beloved Inspiron 1720 was carefully placed into a box yesterday as it awaited its departure to the Dell factory where it would be “fixed.” I used this term lightly as over the past two weeks my veteran computer of oh, a year and four months of life has had a new hard drive, memory and motherboard. That’s right, motherboard. For you unfamiliar, I was told by the Dell technician that came to my apartment Tuesday evening that the motherboard is basically the brain of the computer and that an issue with it was usually the last thing that could go wrong. Well, that was certainly a knee-slapper when after replacing all the parts that go onto the motherboard, my computer decided to grace us with yet another blue screen of death. After what seemed like eight or nine lengthy phone calls to report these latest problems, my new and extremely patient friend explained my options. They could send out all new parts and have me block another two to three hours of my evening off to possibly fix my computer or, I could mail it off to the factory for ten to twelve days. From the start, I was avoiding the factory for several reasons. One, I do not love the idea of having my computer shipped all over the place and manhandled by a million technicians. Secondly, at this point I was quite fond of the idea of accidentally dropping my laptop off the balcony and ending this whole process myself. No more parts, no more technicians, just a million little pieces miraculously protected by my accidental coverage warranty. Let us all hope that when another brown box from Dell arrives, it is my computer working like a brand new machine. Or, I could always go for an actual brand new machine. Those are the only options before things go south and as my sister says, things get “real.” Thank goodness for Paul’s Inspiron 5100 and the good sense to have me back up my files. Day one in the shop everyone, get well wishes encouraged.

That Crazy White Stuff

As someone who grew up in Baltimore, it was understood that I would encounter the occasional snow storm. Moving down to North Carolina, I was shocked and somewhat astonished to find that those in the South do not tend to handle this concept as smoothly. Take for example the gallons of salt that are poured onto the highway three days before a predicated snow storm. Some would consider this a necessary safety precaution but to many of those dwelling in the Raleigh area, this equates to three whole days to prepare for doomsday. The usual trip to the grocery store is met with panicked faces jabbing with elbows and polite smiles as we all make our way over to the bread section- which, at this time is usually almost completely empty. Events for the week after any dreaded snowfall are put on hold “just in case,” and many admit to stocking up like they are preparing for a nuclear meltdown. Personally, I prefer to just sit back with some movies and delicious toasty beverages. My feelings during the snowfall last weekend were that canceling any plans in lieu of an all day pajama lounge-fest ended up being a nice turn of events. Now that we have survived our first 2010 snowfall, I find myself more annoyed than anything when I see those flakes on the pages of weather.com. Sadly, this weekend could be Asheville-free and another point for Mother Nature. Toasty beverages anyone?

Blast From the Past

It’s funny how when you work with a few people around the same age, you look back on certain shows, individuals and songs with a similar nostalgic glow. It is also amusing how that same harbored fondness can quickly turn to sounds of disbelief and exclamations of what were we thinking? It seems that on some days, one can be lucky enough to encounter a combination of both these feelings. Let’s take things back to earlier this afternoon. I am not sure how it all started but eventually, there was talk of Corey and Topanga, the trio of brothers known as Brad, Randy and Mark and the epic music video surrounding the Guns N’ Roses single November Rain. It is true that some things just never get old. After all, some of the same stars who graced the pages of Tiger Beat magazine now have a somewhat odd, grown-up appeal. These characters all had such a relatable familiarity. If I had to deal with the awkwardness of adolescence, so did they. I was learning about some of life’s trials alongside Urkel from Family Matters and Corky from Life Goes On. Now when things get tough, it is nice to know that the beat goes on and that some things, like my secret love for Rick Astley’s dancing just never fade.

LOST

I know, I know...a few days in and I got sidetracked. I do blame the three hours that marked the start of LOST: The Finale Season and DELL. More writing soon!

Asheville, Land of the Free

As a firm believer in always having a string of plans lined up, I have decided that this coming weekend shall mark a retreat to my former mountain home. That’s right, Asheville. For those who have not ventured there, I must tell you that it is hard to find a place as comfortable. I first traveled there for an Interpol concert back in college and it was from that moment that I knew I would eventually become a transplant resident. While it is impossible to avoid any town’s occasional jerky individual, I have to say that the percentage in Asheville seemed to be alarmingly, and might I add pleasantly small. It is not uncommon to start a random conversation on the street or to just see someone really just feeling free and in the moment. In fact, the blistering hot weekend my family helped me move down south will forever house a fond and extremely special memory for my parents and sister. I had gone into a job fair for The Biltmore Estate and as it was really too hot to sit around, my family decided to stroll around Pack Square while waiting for me to finish up. I can only imagine that they saw folks of many different shapes, sizes and attitudes enjoying the toasty summer sun. As the story goes, they were soon greeted by a middle aged woman strolling up the sidewalk in a beautiful flowing skirt. It was also at that time that a strong breeze crept up on her and to avoid vivid detail; my family was thrown into the “free spirited” world that surrounds many of Asheville’s finest. I cannot say that I was extremely upset about missing out on this encounter but you have to love it- never a dull moment. While the weather will be much chillier, I do promise to report back on any visual gems I stumble upon this weekend.