Thursday, April 30, 2009

Review: Rattled!

Christine Coppa is 26. She lives the fabulous life in Manhattan – roommates and drinks and a job at a magazine and $70 t-shirts.

And then she is unmarried and pregnant. And moving back to New Jersey.

I. Loved. This.

Coppa takes her situation, perhaps undesirable and definitely unplanned, and presents it in a poignant and honest memoir. You root for Christine. You adore her older brother. You fall in love with her son, Jack Dominic. You wonder if you would handle yourself with Christine’s grace, if you found yourself in the same situation.

Rattled! is a quick, rewarding read with more substance than your average beach book and an ending that leaves you with a happy heart.

Check out Christine’s blog, hosted by Glamour magazine, Storked!

I did it

1. Finished up all requirements for my degree

(Assuming that I don't flunk either class. Grades have not been posted. Technically, I am not out of the woods.)

2. Joined Twitter. Because I have so many things to say. And also because setting up an account and designing a background was a fun distraction at the library last night.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009


I interviewed for a job earlier this year. I didn’t get it, but I was okay with that. I assumed that they were wary of me because I already have a full-time job and because I’m on the cusp of graduation.

I thought that they liked me, though. They seemed to. Librarians aren’t known for their acting prowess.

So I saw another part-time job posted at the library and, without hesitation, I applied. It would fit perfectly into my schedule. I could do that and my full-time job. Get some library experience. Increase my income by 50%. Pay off some bills. It is a professional position - which I'm shockingly qualified for as of May 8.

I thought – on account of them seeming to really like me – that I would at least get another interview.

Instead I have a thin letter waiting for me on my desk. I wonder what that could possibly be.

They already met me. They weren’t rejecting my résumé. They were rejecting me.

And that stings a little.

Because I don't waste enough time

I think I want to join Twitter. all of the cool kids. Such as John Mayer, Dave Matthews and Stacey.

I feel like I could do a lot with 140 characters.

Like updating my hundreds of followers every time I have a snack. And every time my asshole coworker tells me that I'll never get married.


Tuesday, April 28, 2009


I feel sick.

As I should. It is 4:30 and I haven’t had lunch yet.

This is a very bad habit that I have adopted. I plan to quit immediately.

I’ve been so busy at work lately. The last six weeks have been absolute hell – there hasn’t been time for lunch. I have been heating up my lunch in the microwave just before I leave for class or the gym, and eating it while I drive.

That has worked out okay for me, because I’ve been too busy to notice that I’m hungry.

Now things are finally slowing down. And I’m not eating lunch. I start feeling shitty around 3:00 and, at that point I’m all “whatev – not long until I leave. I’ll just eat some jelly beans.”

And then the jelly beans (shockingly!) make me feel shitty.

Or the coffee that I drink.

The Reese’s Peanut Butter Egg, Almond Joy and Kit-Kat that I sneak from the office candy dish? Also make me feel craptastic. (Shocking.)

It is time that I get my shit together. Start packing some bitchin’ lunches. And make my way over to the lunchroom sometime between 2:30 pm for some noshing and some USA Today (purple section, and only because the Detroit News and the Detroit Free Press only deliver three times per week).

Tomorrow is my last day of the insanity that is leave work/go straight to class until 10 pm.

After that, I am getting my shit together. And some food in my stomach at a decent hour.

Someone hold me to that.

Monday, April 27, 2009


I am leaving now to turn in my final exam.

My FINAL final.

And then I am going to meet up with Ashley. And we're going to see the Tigers play the Yankees.

And will feel relieved.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

I'm crazy: proof

Leaving the library tonight.

My laptop bag is heavy and banging against my hip.

It is pleasantly mild outside.

And I'm thrilled. Finished my take-home final exam. But for the printing and the proofreading. Will do that at work tomorrow.

I walk to my car. The relief is overwhelming.

And I stop for a second. And think to myself.

"Maybe I should get my PhD."

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Everything doesn't have to change

I went out with work friends last night.

Carrie - my internship boss who I have always had a rocky relationship with - is moving to Colorado. We went out to send her off and wish her well.

I kindasorta put the whole thing together. So we went out in the cuteville that is my former residence. Where the bars are aplenty. Where I no longer can walk home after drinking exactly as much as I feel like.

Which isn't the end of the world, since I'm not a huge drinker anyway.

It certainly was different, though. Having to find a parking space and whatnot.

My favorite bar was still there. Its trashy patrons were still there.

And when I got home (after a somewhat scary drive across the infamous 8 Mile Rd.) I made myself a quesadilla. Because that is what we do.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

I accepted the friend request

At the skating competition yesterday, a fellow competitor exclaimed "I'll friend you on Facebook! You have Facebook, right?"

Well, of course I do.

I had a friend request by the time I got home. I ignored it until just now, somewhat unsure of what I should do or how I should handle it.

I don't broadcast my skating.

My soccer teammates don't know. My hockey teammates don't know. My coworkers don't know. Lucy and Colleen don't know. My skating is something that I keep for myself.

And I'm somewhat aware that it is mildly dorky. And I don't want to hear it. Or feel the need to defend it. Or answer questions about it.

It is mine. My dorky habit. My short skirts. My programs that require soft hands and grace that doesn't come all that naturally. My checkbook that takes a hit.

That is just how it is.

I'm aware that I hide my skating away like it is my bastard child.

I am aware that it is a little pathetic.

I don’t know why I am so secretive. It is my nature. My blog. My skating. The boys that I crush on. The degree that I’m working towards.

Maybe what I’m a little embarrassed of is myself.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Completely gratuitous

Alternate title: I paid $40 for this photo CD so, damnit, I should share.

These pictures are from the two seconds of my program where I don't look like I'm constipated. Please ignore the ugly foot position in the second. I'm sure I was moving into a gorgeous position. So sure of it. (Ha.)

Oh. And the hole in the tights? Ignore that, too.

I feel higher than 9th

Coming to you live from some random Panera Bread on the west side of this glorious state.

Here for the national competition. For skating - in case you're getting all of my sporting confused. It is a bigish deal...competing to be the best in your skill level in your age group in the country.

Drove in last night. Ran out of the hotel with wet hair and no bra to buy hair gel at 10:30 pm. Oh, the glory of sports where looks matter, too!

I practiced this morning from 7-8:00 am. Drove back to the hotel, spackled on some makeup. Fixed my hair. Checked out of the hotel room.

Back to the rink. We have an "official" practice session...only 15 minutes. I skate well. Meet my twin, who has the same skating bag as me, who is also at her first national competition, who is skating in my group, who finished up grad school this week.

I was happy with how I skated. Elated, as a matter of fact. Landed all of my jumps. My spins were decent (one was really good - one was decent - one was somewhere between the two). The only part where I flaked out was my footwork, where I somehow forgot what I was doing and ended up making something up as I went along. Have no idea what got into me.

And I smiled the entire time. I NEVER smile genuinely when I skate. I was just so damn happy to be there! It all felt really good.

Except for the results.

I ended up 9th of 15. SO NOT COOL. One judge marked me as the 4th place skater. Another had me at 5th place. And I ended up in 9th. Big bummer. 4th-9th place were all super close. I'm anxious to see the video to determine what put me so low on the proverbial totem pole.

A skater who I met today said "oh, results are results. Were you happy with how you skated?"

And I am.

So I guess today was a success.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009


My credit card company called today.

To verify a charge for $1,040 from FIFA/World Cup.


I have tickets to the World Cup.


I potentially have nobody to go with. FML. (Maybe.)

Monday, April 20, 2009


My big project has been submitted.
I leave for my fancy li'l skating competition tomorrow night.
New OPI nail polish.
Successfully recruiting Darren for my work's team in a charity race.
Phone call from a buddy of Colin, telling me that he missed me.
Dinner date for tomorrow with a good soccer friend.
Buddy of Colin telling me I'm hot. (After saying he, too, is hot. So maybe not a compliment.)
Found time to sit down and pay bills. Monkey off of back.
A new episode of Grey's Anatomy this week.
Knowledge that my graduation tickets, cap and gown are in my hall closet (where I'll refuse to look at them until it is time).
A day off in the middle of the workweek.
Dirty dishes are no longer.
Nervous excitement.

Practice doesn't always make perfect

I find it somewhat ironic that, in the last two months, I've developed a difficulty for correctly spelling both librararians and libraries.

(Just when I type. My right index finger can't seem to throw in that first r.)

I hope this does not hinder my job search.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

This last assignment might kill me


I have spent the entire weekend whittling away at my very last Really Big Assignment. At 6:00 this evening, I thought I was done. And then I looked back at the assignment and realized that, no, that feeling of relief was completely uncalled for. Back to work!

What I'm really impressed with is the kindness and understanding of my professor. Not have a piddly assignment due on the day of your midterm exam or the day that your Really Big Assignment is due? Please! What's the fun in that? And don't forget the citation in APA style!


I am going to be so fired up when I turn this sucker in at 5:30 tomorrow.

Have a lot of reasons to be fired up, actually. Taking the day off of work on Wednesday for a skating competition on the west side of the state. Bar crawl with work friends on Friday night. Bridal shower for my favorite Bridezilla. And my take home final exam due to the same lameass professor who bestowed this POS assignment upon me.

It all comes back to him.

And my current desire to punch him in the neck.

(In a playful sort of a way, of course.)

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Graduation Fair (4-7 pm)

Today, I am going to spend $74.98, and 6% sales tax, on a Master's cap and gown.

I'll join the alumni association, too.

And pick up my graduation tickets.

And email in the final two assignments for a class. (The other has a few weeks, and a long assignment that may kill me this weekend, remaining.)

Because this is really happening.

In 14 days, my only school-related responsibility will be finding a cute outfit to wear to graduation and applying for jobs.

I anticipate that the job search will be exhausting. I've had such rotten luck with, oh, every job I've interviewed for in the last four years that I'm really afraid. And there is the economy. And my student loans. And how busy my job gets in the summertime. I have anxiety about the whole out-of-state search. Do I start applying for out-of-state jobs right away? Should I wait until the end of the summer? Or for six months? What if I find a job that is in the very town where my aunt and uncle own an unoccupied rental/vacation home that I could live in? (Okay, this situation might be real and I wouldn't mind some advice. Take into account that I really don't think I'm cut out to live in Florida, but I suppose that I could do it for a year.)

End of one long and challenging journey. (That ends with a cute outfit and a funny hat.) And the start of another, I suppose.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

What is potentially a very big bummer

When my sister didn’t get accepted to any Physical Therapy schools, she said “oh well, maybe this was meant to be. Maybe I wouldn’t have been able to go to South Africa for the World Cup if I was in school.”

And we all agreed.

She got into PT school on a Friday.

On the next Monday, we put in our ticket requests for the World Cup.

Today is the drawing.

And also the day that she realized that she won’t finish her spring semester until July 2.

After, of course, every game we’ve requested tickets for.

(The only game post July second would be, I think, the final.)

Will be interesting to see how this all pans out. Especially since we each requested over a grand of tickets. And FIFA has a pretty strong antiscalping plan in place.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

You'd think I was trying to tell you something

If I had a boyfriend, that fucker would be seriously freaked out.

Books I purchased on Amazon this morning:

Monday, April 13, 2009

My life just got more interesting

Talked to The Athlete today.

Had just downed a Tim Horton's coffee. I answered the phone. And there he was on the other end of the phone line. "How was your winter?"

I played it cool. Heard a little about his season. He's glad to be home, he said. "It is the first time I've been home for Easter since I was 17."

He told me about how he asked his mom where his Easter basket (which he expected to be filled with goodies, on account of his long absence and everything) was. "In a box somewhere in the basement" was her answer.

"They bought all of these presents for my niece," he told me. "You get to a point where they just think of you as a vehicle for bringing them more grandchildren."

I admitted that I still get an Easter basket. And an Easter egg hunt or two. "Anything to make my mom happy," I told him.

I relayed how I lost to Meg. As I do every year. Despite the fact that, this year, she was excessively hungover.

"I'm going to start training," I sigh. He laughs and I love it. "No, I'm serious. I'm going to start running. I'm going to do the shuttle run every day, so I can get those quick turns better."

He just eases into my ridiculous diatribe, inviting me to train with the athletes he works with in the summer. His personality is perfect for playing off of my smart-ass nature. Not like Colin - who could never get my jokes, who could never play along.

I think I'll see him on Wednesday.

(At work. Don't get too excited.)

(What on earth will I wear?!)

Back to earth for one quick second. Recap: we talked on the phone. He called work. He called to talk to my boss. Don't get me wrong. I'm not throwing myself into the idea of this.

It is too early for me to do anything. Not calling. Not texting. Not Facebooking.

(I will furiously hope that he shows up at a mutual friend's going-away party next weekend.)

He can make the move. He has proven that he is capable.

If he doesn't? Whatever. He's an amusement. He's something to think about.

It is important, when you're an eternally single (but fabulous!) girl like me to have a boy. A boy upon which to pin your ridiculous fantasies of marriage proposals and baby names.

Better to look forward, to a boy who hasn't previously tossed you away, than to look back.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Chocolate for Breakfast

Oh, Easter. I love you because I love candy. Marshmallow Peeps and Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs, mostly. But who am I kidding? I don't discriminate.

(I also won't discriminate against the cold, hard cash money in my Easter basket. Am I too old for an Easter basket? Am I too old to be getting money from fictional creatures? Maybe I shouldn't write about this.)

Anna was home for her birthday and Easter. I was a Very Good Big Cousin, and bought her a present (the Enchanted DVD and an enormous bag of gummy bears - representing two of our favorite activities while living together) and acted very civil. It was okay.

I feel like I was superproductive this weekend, which is mostly a lie. I got a lot done, yes. But there is always more looming over my head.

Although, I now have less than two weeks of schoolwork looming over my head and I CANNOT. EXPRESS. THE. JOY. I feel a tiny bit of myself creeping back in and - ooooh! I totally forgot what it was like not to be miserable! This is sort of nice!

List of things I need to write about:
-Me and my frienemy setting Meg up on a successful date
-The Very Big Skating Competition I'm in next week
-How The Athlete and I are going on a date*
-The really awesome TV stand my mom bought me for $8

*I'll write about this once it happens, but I just wanted to add it to the list to be sure I didn't forget it. Once he actually asks me out.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Facebook is the devil

Here I was, all prepared to get a ton of homework done again tonight ---

And I find out, via F'book, that The Athlete is home for the summer. Back from his European tour of greatness.

What I'm going to do is freak out a little bit.
What I'm not going to do is call him.
Or text him.
Or friend him on Facebook.

The whole thing was fun to think about for the last eight months but now it is time to be realistic. We emailed, like, twice since he was gone. It isn't anything. And I don't need to be a stalker-girl, starved for attention and throwing myself at his feet.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

The semester eventually ends

I'm going to hate myself in the morning.

I'll be stiff. And I'll be tired.

After leaving work (an hour late), I drove down to A2 to work on one of my very last assignments for library school. Wheee!

When I was walking to the medical library where I was planning on doing a bit of research, I thought to myself "this feels just like when I was in college."

I guess I'm in college, technically. But it did feel just like it did when I was an undergrad. On one of those first sunny, warm spring days when you realize that the semester will eventually end and there's nothing but a long summer break stretching out in front of you.

I felt just like an undergrad. Except that all of the undergrad guys who were out in the street, throwing footballs and baseballs and acting like little boys? They looked awfully young. Creepy!

I'm getting old.

And very close to the end of graduate school. Holla.

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

The Year of the Ticket

I just spent $800 on tickets to next year's Frozen Four at Ford Field. (Say that 5 times fast.) I'm going to give them to my dad - who can't resist a good hockey game - for Father's Day.

And there are the 7 games of World Cup soccer that I've requested tickets for.

Overpriced tickets to large sporting events? Please count me in. Red Wings, please make it to the Stanley Cup Finals again because I'm sure that I cannot resist paying $300/ticket to see a game.

And where on earth is the Superbowl next year?

(I'd say that I wanted to see Michigan football at the National Championship game or the Rose Bowl, but we really don't need to create a discussion about the unlikely nature of either of those situations.)

At least I scored a pair of free Tigers/Yankees tickets.

Monday, April 06, 2009


I'm not crazy about the person I've become since January.

I'm not drastically different. But I'm far from my best self.

I want to change.

I want to care about my schoolwork.
I want to spend my cash on something other than coffee.
I want to shave my legs on a regular basis.
I want to go to the gym.
I want to make myself a meal instead of defrosting myself one.

Work is finally calming down. My move is complete.

Time for me to get back in the saddle. I don't want to wait three weeks. I don't need to. I'm not going to limp across the finish line. I'm going to sprint.

Happy spring!

There is nothing that starts your week of right like a snowstorm. In April.

Wheeee, Michigan!

Saturday, April 04, 2009

Today is dedicated to ---

The asswipe who hit my car: didn't you know that it's a lease? Didn't you know that you fucking suck?

The girl I competed against today: WAY TO BE A SORE LOSER. (You can pass that along to your coach, because it applies to her, too.)

Aviva's brother and sister-in-law: I know you're new parents and all, but not letting people who drove in from Buffalo hold the baby? Kind of shitty.

My skating friends: the daffodils are gorgeous and you are far too considerate.

My shaky, nervous legs: rough warm-up, eh? Glad we could get our shit together for the program. (Lets hold onto that Lutz combination better next time, though.)

My apartment: you're coming together slowly, but you're coming together nicely.

The cashier at Trader Joe's: thanks for shamelessly flirting with me. It has been awfully long since I have been shamelessly flirted with. I certainly didn't mind returning the favor.

Aviva: thanks for the S'bucks!

Lucy: trading in the bar night for a movie night was awfully ingenious.

The weather: keep it up, baby!

Friday, April 03, 2009

Adjustment period

I like my new little apartment.

I'll like it a lot more when I have food in the refrigerator.

And when my books are organized and my pictures have been hung.

Something about it feels right. Close to work. Quiet. I can turn on Good Morning America in the morning loud enough so that I can hear it as I put on my makeup in the bathroom and not have to worry about waking anyone up. Target is a two-minute drive away. The storage closet is perfect for my hockey bag.

Everywhere else I've lived has taken an adjustment period until I've felt like I'm home. I haven't been in this apartment for a week and it is already in my mind's eye when I think of going back to my place.

Maybe it means something. A sign that I'm finally settling into my life, maybe. That I've figured out this adulthood jazz. That I'm on the cusp of something great.

Maybe I just picked the right apartment complex.

Maybe I'm just looking for something to hope for.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

How about we skip Friday and go straight for the weekend?

This week has been absolutely brutal. When I am done balancing work/school/internship, I am not going to be sad.

What I am going to do is return to the gym. Organize my apartment. Get a decent night's sleep. Start knitting again. Get a subscription to Netflix and watch too many movies. Paint my nails on a regular basis. Stop being such a damn train wreck.

I have a lot of plans. Plans that should begin to take place a month from now. With just a few big hoops left for me to clear, I'm close to being done. I really might live through this.

Luckily, it hasn't been like this my entire school career. I haven't had simultaneous crazyinsane work demands and crazyinsane school demands. There was a time - way back when - that I could do my homework on the clock. And when I had time for a lunch break. Now the only think that is breaking is my will to live. I'm dangerously close to telling my boss exactly how miserable I am.

Tonight, I had an event to attend from 6-10:30. "Oh, right," my boss said when I mentioned it today. "That should be fun."

"No," I replied. "No, not at all. I'm not going to pretend that I'm excited about it," I told him. "I'm going, and that's fine, but I'm not excited about it and it won't be fun."

He told me that I need therapy, for goodness sake. I'd say that makes him a big proponent of honesty.

So that is what he's getting.

Sugarcoating is officially so last year.
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