I love music. I really do. From 'Ole Blue Eyes to the Beastie Boys, from Beethoven to Kanye West - I can't get enough.
Quite often, I will enjoy a trainwreck movie just because of the score. Case in point: "Two Weeks Notice." You know Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock just phoned that one in - they had zero chemistry (even less than Freddie Prinze Jr. and Julia Stiles/Monica Potter/Rachel Leigh Cook - take your pick). But guess who owns the soundtrack??
I once spent months hunting down a classical song that appeared during the end credits of Party of Five. I sat for hours one day at the Rochester Public Library listening to CD after CD of Tchaikovsky, Bach, Mozart, Chopin - whatever I could get my hands on. I had to have that song.
I am also one of those people who will keep browsing in an otherwise worthless store if the music is right. I will buy that CD on the "Now Playing" display at Barnes & Noble. I have spent extra time lollygagging around the grocery store to get to the end of an Alan Parsons Project song.
When the Wallflowers did a remake of the Bee Gees "I Started a Joke," I discovered it at Bath & Body Works. I think the sales associate thought I was a little nuts when I asked about it instead of their "buy three get one free" sale on their anti-bacterial collection. But I didn't care. She was just a bit part in the movie of my life with my own personal soundtrack.
Friday, August 31, 2007
High Tech Nation
Fifty years ago, if you told someone that they would be able to work from home and perform all the same functions that they would in an office, would they have believed you? Probably not. Or that anybody would be able to travel anywhere and talk to anyone on a mobile phone? Yeah, cuckoo. But having been alive for the last 31 years and seeing how much things have evolved, I'm glad that I have the option to work from home or anywhere that I can get an internet connection and not feel disconnected from the office. On the downside, with technology always evolving and people able to log in from anywhere with wireless devices (ie- the "Crack" berry), you're also easily accessible...maybe Big Brother is not so far away after all, if it's not here already.
Having moved into our new home, my husband and I were so excited about getting Verizon FiOS installed for the house. For those that may not be familiar, FiOS is Fiber Optic Services. Your phone service, cable TV and internet access travel on one fiber optic line to provide these services throughout your home (whereas without FiOS, that's three separate services and three separate lines wired to your home). Some of our friends signed up for it and they had no complaints. Of course we sign up and boy, do I have a load of complaints. The internet is faster than regular internet- there's no doubt about that. But when one thing goes down, seems like everything goes down.
I'm working from home today (furniture delivery and family coming into town). I woke up early to log into my work account. At about 7:40am, I got no internet connection. I thought it was my computer so I restarted a couple of times. Then I decided to hook up to the router directly using the LAN coax instead of wireless. Nothing. I ran to my husband's office and started his computer. No internet either. At 8:15am, I had no internet, no phone....but hey, I did have TV! I restarted the router...multiple times. And I waited....and then I waited some more. I called our FiOS Service person - he's "new" to FiOS and he had meetings in the morning so he had to call me back (GREAT!). At about 8:45am, I decided to start cooking dinner to calm my nerves. It helped. At about 9:00am, I decided to restart the router one more time. Twenty minutes later, while finishing up with dinner and washing the dishes, I saw that the 'internet' light on the router finally lit up. I run to my computer and restarted it. The internet is working....HALLELUJAH!
I have been successfully logged into work for the past 1.5 hours. I'm almost afraid to leave the computer for fear that I'll be cut off again. So while I had phone and internet access, I contacted my coworkers and let them know what had to get done in the event I was cut off from internet again this afternoon. I haven't even gone to the bathroom yet and I've had to go since 9am. I'm scared - scared to be left in the dark again.
You don't realize how dependent you are on modern technology until it fails. Thank goodness my cell phone was working....darn you, FiOS! (Don't fail on me now!)
Having moved into our new home, my husband and I were so excited about getting Verizon FiOS installed for the house. For those that may not be familiar, FiOS is Fiber Optic Services. Your phone service, cable TV and internet access travel on one fiber optic line to provide these services throughout your home (whereas without FiOS, that's three separate services and three separate lines wired to your home). Some of our friends signed up for it and they had no complaints. Of course we sign up and boy, do I have a load of complaints. The internet is faster than regular internet- there's no doubt about that. But when one thing goes down, seems like everything goes down.
I'm working from home today (furniture delivery and family coming into town). I woke up early to log into my work account. At about 7:40am, I got no internet connection. I thought it was my computer so I restarted a couple of times. Then I decided to hook up to the router directly using the LAN coax instead of wireless. Nothing. I ran to my husband's office and started his computer. No internet either. At 8:15am, I had no internet, no phone....but hey, I did have TV! I restarted the router...multiple times. And I waited....and then I waited some more. I called our FiOS Service person - he's "new" to FiOS and he had meetings in the morning so he had to call me back (GREAT!). At about 8:45am, I decided to start cooking dinner to calm my nerves. It helped. At about 9:00am, I decided to restart the router one more time. Twenty minutes later, while finishing up with dinner and washing the dishes, I saw that the 'internet' light on the router finally lit up. I run to my computer and restarted it. The internet is working....HALLELUJAH!
I have been successfully logged into work for the past 1.5 hours. I'm almost afraid to leave the computer for fear that I'll be cut off again. So while I had phone and internet access, I contacted my coworkers and let them know what had to get done in the event I was cut off from internet again this afternoon. I haven't even gone to the bathroom yet and I've had to go since 9am. I'm scared - scared to be left in the dark again.
You don't realize how dependent you are on modern technology until it fails. Thank goodness my cell phone was working....darn you, FiOS! (Don't fail on me now!)
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Move Over Bacon....
Continuing on the topic of automobiles and driving, I had to share a thought I had yesterday - although I've had this thought many times before. When I was learning how to drive, I distinctly remember being told that if I was in an accident, to move it off to the side. Even if I'm imagining these teachings, it does make sense in that you're not blocking more traffic and depending on where you are, you are not in the position to cause a more serious accident.
Driving home from work yesterday, I was at a stop light and I looked to my left and saw a Suburban that rear ended a Millennia. That brought back memories as when I first moved to VA, I, too, in a Millennia, was rear ended by a 16-year old kid named Broncho (no joke) driving his sister's hand-me-down BMW. Anyways, both drivers were out of the car...the man in the Millennia was probably going home from work. The boy in the Suburban, and his girlfriend, were kind of milling about around their car. All three were on their cell phones. I'm sure the two males were on the phone to insurance and/or police but the girl? Who could she have been talking to? A friend, to pass the time? Anyways, they were in the third lane of a four lane road (all going one way). Not only that, they were just beyond a stop light so they had oncoming traffic, people turning from the cross section....in other words, mayhem. I don't understand why they couldn't pull it over to the side and handle their business there without causing a scene and rubbernecking....
Maybe I'm just too considerate. When Broncho rear-ended me (that sounds dirty...ewww) in the middle of rush hour, I got out of my car, saw my damage, saw his damage, looked at him and said, "Let's drive to the parking lot and figure this out." The cop came, saw the damage, wrote up the report, and sent us on our way. When I was telling a co-worker, they were appalled that I moved the cars...more to the fact that I moved away from the scene of the accident. Geez - this wasn't a hit and run. Broncho wasn't going to go very far with a smoking and busted up hood...
Was I wrong? I have heard that in VA, cops don't like you moving from the scene of the accident so they can assess the "crime scene." Me? I just want to avoid getting hit by someone else, try to prevent another accident with someone else, and most importantly, avoid the stares. Who do you think rubberneckers stare at after they look at the damaged car? The driver...of course.
Driving home from work yesterday, I was at a stop light and I looked to my left and saw a Suburban that rear ended a Millennia. That brought back memories as when I first moved to VA, I, too, in a Millennia, was rear ended by a 16-year old kid named Broncho (no joke) driving his sister's hand-me-down BMW. Anyways, both drivers were out of the car...the man in the Millennia was probably going home from work. The boy in the Suburban, and his girlfriend, were kind of milling about around their car. All three were on their cell phones. I'm sure the two males were on the phone to insurance and/or police but the girl? Who could she have been talking to? A friend, to pass the time? Anyways, they were in the third lane of a four lane road (all going one way). Not only that, they were just beyond a stop light so they had oncoming traffic, people turning from the cross section....in other words, mayhem. I don't understand why they couldn't pull it over to the side and handle their business there without causing a scene and rubbernecking....
Maybe I'm just too considerate. When Broncho rear-ended me (that sounds dirty...ewww) in the middle of rush hour, I got out of my car, saw my damage, saw his damage, looked at him and said, "Let's drive to the parking lot and figure this out." The cop came, saw the damage, wrote up the report, and sent us on our way. When I was telling a co-worker, they were appalled that I moved the cars...more to the fact that I moved away from the scene of the accident. Geez - this wasn't a hit and run. Broncho wasn't going to go very far with a smoking and busted up hood...
Was I wrong? I have heard that in VA, cops don't like you moving from the scene of the accident so they can assess the "crime scene." Me? I just want to avoid getting hit by someone else, try to prevent another accident with someone else, and most importantly, avoid the stares. Who do you think rubberneckers stare at after they look at the damaged car? The driver...of course.
You’re So Vain
I realize that, as I write this, I risk offending a few of you readers. I know for a fact that a few of my friends have them. But I’m sorry – I just can’t stand vanity plates.
The other day, I was behind a car with the license plate, “JURIS DR.” Eww. Have some modesty. Drive around in your subpar sports car, if you must. But “Juris Doctor?” We lawyers get a bad enough rap as it is – the last thing we need is your pompous a$$ driving around reminding people of why we’re so sleazy. There was also a guy in my law school class who drove around during our first year in a car with the plate “IU LAW 99.” How presumptuous can you be? (On the upside for him, I guess it probably gave him a little added pressure to make sure he actually finished law school).
I waited tables one summer at this god awful Mexican restaurant in my hometown. The wife of the couple who owned the restaurant drove around in a little blue Miata convertible with the license plate “2 CUTE.” How old are we? I realize I go around smoking bubblegum cigarettes at the age of 33, but still. This woman was not too cute. She was in her fifties - old enough to know better. If she thought she was impressing people, she was sadly mistaken. I know a few of my fellow waiters and some of the cooks wanted to do terrible terrible things to that car.
Having said all of this, there is the occasional exception. Someone told me about a successful African American friend of his who drove a Porsche (or something relatively expensive) with the license plate “STOLEN.” To which, I have to admit: Brilliant.
The other day, I was behind a car with the license plate, “JURIS DR.” Eww. Have some modesty. Drive around in your subpar sports car, if you must. But “Juris Doctor?” We lawyers get a bad enough rap as it is – the last thing we need is your pompous a$$ driving around reminding people of why we’re so sleazy. There was also a guy in my law school class who drove around during our first year in a car with the plate “IU LAW 99.” How presumptuous can you be? (On the upside for him, I guess it probably gave him a little added pressure to make sure he actually finished law school).
I waited tables one summer at this god awful Mexican restaurant in my hometown. The wife of the couple who owned the restaurant drove around in a little blue Miata convertible with the license plate “2 CUTE.” How old are we? I realize I go around smoking bubblegum cigarettes at the age of 33, but still. This woman was not too cute. She was in her fifties - old enough to know better. If she thought she was impressing people, she was sadly mistaken. I know a few of my fellow waiters and some of the cooks wanted to do terrible terrible things to that car.
Having said all of this, there is the occasional exception. Someone told me about a successful African American friend of his who drove a Porsche (or something relatively expensive) with the license plate “STOLEN.” To which, I have to admit: Brilliant.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Zombie Nation
I have never seen Dawn of the Dead. Or even Shaun of the Dead. But sometimes I feel like I am surrounded by zombies. I see these zombies at the crosswalk or waiting for the train. They are of all walks of life, and they are totally oblivious to their surroundings. They all have one thing in common: they are fused to their iPods.
When I was little, I had this compilation of "Richard Scarry" stories. I've forgotten most of them by now, but I still remember that first one. It was about this bear, rabbit, elephant or nondescript Richard Scarry mammal character who was so engrossed in his newspaper that he caused a ruckus throughout the town. He walked through laundry, stepped in cement - everywhere he went, he left a mess behind.
I fear this is where the iPod zombies are headed. I've come close to hitting a few with my car - they are never looking. A few have actually bumped into me standing on the sidewalk. Suddenly, the normal boundaries of personal space are no longer there. They cannot hear the normal human sounds (breathing, coughing, fidgeting) of a person standing right behind them. They just bob along - like buoys.
Don't get me wrong, I love my iPod. But these iPod zombies are dangerous. To me. And more importantly, to themselves. Someday they're going to find themselves stuck in cement like that Richard Scarry character. And no one will hear their cries for help - because they will be surrounded by other iPod zombies.
When I was little, I had this compilation of "Richard Scarry" stories. I've forgotten most of them by now, but I still remember that first one. It was about this bear, rabbit, elephant or nondescript Richard Scarry mammal character who was so engrossed in his newspaper that he caused a ruckus throughout the town. He walked through laundry, stepped in cement - everywhere he went, he left a mess behind.
I fear this is where the iPod zombies are headed. I've come close to hitting a few with my car - they are never looking. A few have actually bumped into me standing on the sidewalk. Suddenly, the normal boundaries of personal space are no longer there. They cannot hear the normal human sounds (breathing, coughing, fidgeting) of a person standing right behind them. They just bob along - like buoys.
Don't get me wrong, I love my iPod. But these iPod zombies are dangerous. To me. And more importantly, to themselves. Someday they're going to find themselves stuck in cement like that Richard Scarry character. And no one will hear their cries for help - because they will be surrounded by other iPod zombies.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
More Shoes....
Now that I figured out how to work this images thing, I can post all the pictures of the shoes I was writing about in my earlier post - 'Shoes That Won't Be Making It To My Closet.'
These first ones are how I pictured oxford heels to be - classic and elegant. But at $575, it's an automatic pass.
I love these - they're classic, sleek, t-straps and just so elegant looking. Pricetag? $295. I wonder if I can find it at TJMaxx.
Here are the Cole-Haan Pythons....it's a bit too daring for me - here's a way to let your Pythons loose. $225
I think Nancy Sinatra wore these in her 'Boots Were Made for Walking' video - they're kind of growing on me but I don't know if I can pull of white, wedge, patent leather boots. Franco Sarto - $150...reasonably priced. My other problem with boots - I have muscular calves so they would either have to be slip on or have enough room to not cut off the circulation to my feet.
C'mon Gwen...did you really give the thumbs up to these? What is going on there in the ankle area? I can only think that if I slipped these on, I would look so ridiculous. LAMB - $275
I love these - even the little peep toe. Would I consider wearing them with sandal-toe hosiery? Probably not. It would be all bare for this one...plus Via Spigas are pretty comfy - $198.
I think this is just one too many trends trying to make it into one shoe - we've got the oxford, the patent and the open toe....and the results...disaster. Even at $130, I'll pass.
Patience of a......Hungry Baby
I'm throwing back to Amanda's Customer Service Posting a few days ago - my patience just isn't what it used to be - I've known this for the past five years. In college, I had the patience of a Saint. I needed it when I was tutoring Calculus to 40-something year olds going back to school to gain their undergrad degrees. This was also the beginning of where my patience started to wear thin. I loved tutoring. It was great to share something I understood with people that didn't understand it quite so well. But because a lot of the students I tutored were older and had not been in a Math class in 20-some years, it took them LONGER than the average bear to grasp some of the concepts. Admittedly, there were times when I wanted to say, "Hey, you've gone this long without knowing or using calculus...you really won't need it after you get your diploma either....and there's always a curve after exams right? Why don't we just shoot for getting by?" Isn't that horrible?
So my husband and I went to go watch a 7:30pm showing of 'SuperBad' last night. We got to the theatre at 7:00pm. This gave me plenty of time to return an item at the Limited. The store is two floors down but in the same main wing as the theatre so I didn't think I'd have a problem with time. But when I got to the store and became the second person on line, I began to have serious doubts. Time: 7:10pm. There was only one person behind the cash wrap (yet there are five terminals...go figure). The person being waited on was opening up a store credit card (OY VAY!) If I were the cashier and I saw TWO people standing on line, and both apparently having returns, I would have clicked on that little portable mic they carry around and said, "Can someone please come to the back to help ring?" At least, that's what good management skills would have dictated that cashier do. Unfortunately, I don't think she was a manager. So she continued to open the card for the person at the register. She finally got done. By the time that person left, two more people had joined me on line. Time: 7:13pm. The gal in front of me stepped up and had a return of some $40 pants and a purchase of a $200 suit. I've worked in retail before. I know that if you have a return and then a purchase, you ring up the return and then get the amount owed to the customer and the ring up the purchase and they just pay for the difference. Apparently, that's not how this cashier worked. She returned the girl's pants first in one transaction...then started another transaction to ring up the purchases. This took FOREVER. Time: 7:18pm. I kept looking through the rest of the store thinking that there had to be SOMEONE else that could ring up our merchandise (or refund my money, in my case). I became the extremely annoyed customer that huffed and puffed and sighed out loud. I don't break it out too often, but I felt the situation was appropriate. At this time, two more people hopped on line. For those keeping count at home, there are now five people on line, one person at register. I really thought about saying, "I'm sorry, but is there someone else here that can help me? I'm in a rush." Then I thought, why should I apologize for them being slow and incompetent? But had I approached it any other way, I would be looked upon as that bi-atch in a rush. So I just stood there.
The cashier saw the line getting longer but she managed to still do a price check for someone up front. She thought she could expedite the process by having me step up and throw my merchandise on the counter. When she saw I had a return, she said she needed my photo ID and the card I charged it to. Check. Time: 7:22pm. When she started on my transaction, she had the gall to ask me why I was returning it, even though it was apparent I hadn't even taken it out of the shopping bag since bringing it home. I just said, "No." She rang up my return, swiped my card and miraculously, I didn't have to sign anything....that seemed odd to me, but I have the receipt, so we'll see if I get my $50 back.
Time: 7:25pm. I know it's all commercials, warnings, and previews before the movie but that didn't stop my from hauling ass to the theatre. I wanted to get my ICEE and a good seat. I got to the theatre at 7:28pm. Of course when we got on line at the snack counter, we had to stand behind the MOST INDECISIVE PEOPLE on the face of this Earth...so I moved over one lane to a guy that was finishing up an order. By this time, I was annoyed with:
1) the Limited
2) the indecisive people at the snack counter
and now - you can add the attendant at the snack counter....HARD OF HEARING and he gave me an ICEE that wasn't fully frostified. It was half slush, half liquid. That's not right. At this point, I knew when I was defeated. When we get to theatre 11 and there were two teenagers checking IDs for the movie, I glare at the girl and gave her the "don't even think about it" look and walked in. We found a seat and I started drinking my ICEE.
The End. Time: 7:35pm.
Monday, August 27, 2007
How Old Are We?
This weekend, I took my friend Deb as my date to a friend's wedding in Maryland (my husband was unavailable at the last minute). I had a feeling that Deb would be a good choice, and she did not disappoint. In order to lure her into the deal, I promised her Chicken McNuggets for the road. I also omitted a few minor details of the event - namely that the reception was in Pennsylvania. I planned to let her in on that once we hit Baltimore.
We barely made the wedding. Mapquest said the trip would take about an hour and forty minutes from Deb's house, but it probably would have been wise to recognize that I-95 is always a mess at least somewhere along the route. For us, it was bumper to bumper pretty much immediately after seeing the signs for Elkton - 5 miles. We sat there and watched the minutes tick away: 2:12, 2:15, 2:22 (the wedding was at 2:30). We rolled into a parallel parking spot next to the church just in time and snuck in a side door (the bridesmaids were blocking the main aisle).
After the wedding ceremony, we breathed a sigh of relief. We got our map to the reception and headed out on the country roads to Mendenhall, PA. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, we passed a cute little shop: "Candy for All Occasions." Since there was no possible way the bride and groom would beat us to the reception, we decided to make a stop. The place was adorable. Walls filled with chocolates, old fashioned lollipops, gummy candies - they had it all. We were particularly drawn to a little "tobacco wannabe" corner. They had the crunchy candy cigarettes, the bubblegum "sugar puff" candy cigarettes, chocolate cigarettes, cigars, pipes, you name it. We each selected several packs and hit the register (as much as it panged us, we knew a selection of their fine chocolates would only end up in a chocolate puddle in the hot car all night). Then we got a crazy idea: let's buy a pack of the bubblegum cigarettes to share at the reception. We can take them out with us for a smoke break with the smokers at the reception.
All through the cocktail hour and even during dinner, we giggled about our little plan. Deb even spent some time getting the bubblegum cigarette pack ready. She ripped off just a portion of the top - like a softpack - so only a few cigarettes would slide out at once while the others stayed fresh inside. Finally, after the toasts and an interesting orange dessert thing, we were ready to make our move. We started to head out to the patio, but half chickened out. There was only one person out there, and she was on a cell phone. We paced for awhile, and Deb finally decided we should go for it. By then, there were a few other smokers out there . . .
So I am happy to report that a great way to get the chatter going at a wedding reception is to "light up" a bubblegum cigarette. It only took Deb and I a few puffs before a couple came over and asked what we were doing. When we told them, they of course, wanted a piece of the action. And then their friends, and some others too. Bubblegum cigarettes = instant party.
Deb and I shed a little tear at the end of the night when our pack was empty.
We barely made the wedding. Mapquest said the trip would take about an hour and forty minutes from Deb's house, but it probably would have been wise to recognize that I-95 is always a mess at least somewhere along the route. For us, it was bumper to bumper pretty much immediately after seeing the signs for Elkton - 5 miles. We sat there and watched the minutes tick away: 2:12, 2:15, 2:22 (the wedding was at 2:30). We rolled into a parallel parking spot next to the church just in time and snuck in a side door (the bridesmaids were blocking the main aisle).
After the wedding ceremony, we breathed a sigh of relief. We got our map to the reception and headed out on the country roads to Mendenhall, PA. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, we passed a cute little shop: "Candy for All Occasions." Since there was no possible way the bride and groom would beat us to the reception, we decided to make a stop. The place was adorable. Walls filled with chocolates, old fashioned lollipops, gummy candies - they had it all. We were particularly drawn to a little "tobacco wannabe" corner. They had the crunchy candy cigarettes, the bubblegum "sugar puff" candy cigarettes, chocolate cigarettes, cigars, pipes, you name it. We each selected several packs and hit the register (as much as it panged us, we knew a selection of their fine chocolates would only end up in a chocolate puddle in the hot car all night). Then we got a crazy idea: let's buy a pack of the bubblegum cigarettes to share at the reception. We can take them out with us for a smoke break with the smokers at the reception.
All through the cocktail hour and even during dinner, we giggled about our little plan. Deb even spent some time getting the bubblegum cigarette pack ready. She ripped off just a portion of the top - like a softpack - so only a few cigarettes would slide out at once while the others stayed fresh inside. Finally, after the toasts and an interesting orange dessert thing, we were ready to make our move. We started to head out to the patio, but half chickened out. There was only one person out there, and she was on a cell phone. We paced for awhile, and Deb finally decided we should go for it. By then, there were a few other smokers out there . . .
So I am happy to report that a great way to get the chatter going at a wedding reception is to "light up" a bubblegum cigarette. It only took Deb and I a few puffs before a couple came over and asked what we were doing. When we told them, they of course, wanted a piece of the action. And then their friends, and some others too. Bubblegum cigarettes = instant party.
Deb and I shed a little tear at the end of the night when our pack was empty.
The Hug List
A few weeks ago, I headed to the local watering hole, the Bottom Line, for a Purdue alumni flag football callout. As Jen mentioned, the Purdue team is part of a larger league called CAN. I think this is my fourth year on the team (it's hard to keep track), and through the years, I have met tons of people: the Purdue folks, of course, and players from various other schools. In some ways, it's the same Amanda from college: I can't help it - I just like meeting new people.
Because I work close to the Bottom Line, I tend to head to any weeknight happy hours straight from the office. What this usually means is that I am the first one there. There's only so much time I can waste in my office surfing the net before I'm ready to yaba-daba-do out of there. I try to hold out as long as I can, but sometimes I find myself having to entertain myself/look busy at the bar while waiting for my colleagues to arrive. One of my little exercises in this situation is the cycle of taking my cell phone out of my purse and putting it back in, reading text messages from 3 months ago - anything to stay busy and send out the signal: I have friends, and they're on their way as we speak. Sometimes I try to engross myself in whatever is on the bar t.v. Whether it's an ESPN Classic rerun of the 1985 Rose Bowl, the Little League World Series, or the Bowling Championship, I care! This plan works like a charm; that is, until the program breaks for an uncomfortable commercial, such as the one about that guy with the prostate problem. At that point, though, I am committed and have to remain glued to my program ("I sure hope that new prescription drug can help him out.").
It was in this fragile state, standing at the bar, a few weeks ago that I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and faced a guy I knew from an opposing team. I've actually known this guy for quite some time (years, in fact), and he has even gone on the Purdue club ski trip a couple of times. I was so relieved that someone I knew finally was in the bar that, immediately after turning around and facing him, I gave him a hello hug. Part way through the hug, however, I realized that I had never given this guy a hug before. Hello . . . awkward. With so many people in the Purdue club being huggers, it is a regular greeting for me - for guys and girls alike. In my excitement of being rescued from my "preoccupation routine," I simply forgot that this guy was not on my "Hug List." What made matters worse was that this guy was there with his dad (who happened to be standing right behind him). Not that I did anything really inappropriate, but I am sure he was like, "Who was that weird girl who came to a bar on a Thursday night alone, and what was she doing throwing herself on you?" I wanted to say something, but what can you say? Sorry I hugged you? A lesson for next time: memorize your "Hug List." Know who's on it, but more importantly, learn how to recognize in a split second who isn't.
Because I work close to the Bottom Line, I tend to head to any weeknight happy hours straight from the office. What this usually means is that I am the first one there. There's only so much time I can waste in my office surfing the net before I'm ready to yaba-daba-do out of there. I try to hold out as long as I can, but sometimes I find myself having to entertain myself/look busy at the bar while waiting for my colleagues to arrive. One of my little exercises in this situation is the cycle of taking my cell phone out of my purse and putting it back in, reading text messages from 3 months ago - anything to stay busy and send out the signal: I have friends, and they're on their way as we speak. Sometimes I try to engross myself in whatever is on the bar t.v. Whether it's an ESPN Classic rerun of the 1985 Rose Bowl, the Little League World Series, or the Bowling Championship, I care! This plan works like a charm; that is, until the program breaks for an uncomfortable commercial, such as the one about that guy with the prostate problem. At that point, though, I am committed and have to remain glued to my program ("I sure hope that new prescription drug can help him out.").
It was in this fragile state, standing at the bar, a few weeks ago that I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and faced a guy I knew from an opposing team. I've actually known this guy for quite some time (years, in fact), and he has even gone on the Purdue club ski trip a couple of times. I was so relieved that someone I knew finally was in the bar that, immediately after turning around and facing him, I gave him a hello hug. Part way through the hug, however, I realized that I had never given this guy a hug before. Hello . . . awkward. With so many people in the Purdue club being huggers, it is a regular greeting for me - for guys and girls alike. In my excitement of being rescued from my "preoccupation routine," I simply forgot that this guy was not on my "Hug List." What made matters worse was that this guy was there with his dad (who happened to be standing right behind him). Not that I did anything really inappropriate, but I am sure he was like, "Who was that weird girl who came to a bar on a Thursday night alone, and what was she doing throwing herself on you?" I wanted to say something, but what can you say? Sorry I hugged you? A lesson for next time: memorize your "Hug List." Know who's on it, but more importantly, learn how to recognize in a split second who isn't.
I Am CAN; CAN I Am
One of the great things about living in metro DC is CAN - the Capital Alumni Network. CAN is most known for the intercollegiate alumni sports leagues it has - flag football, softball, basketball, and volleyball. They also have numerous activities that range from happy hours to nights at professional sporting events to happy hours to other sporting functions to pre/post season parties...you get the picture?
There has to be about 100 colleges involved in CAN. It's such a great way to network, meet other alums and just meet people in general. You start seeing the same faces at all different kinds of events and it's fun. Since I'm a Purdue alum and I participate in the sports teams, I am, in a way, a part of CAN. However, because I do a lot of stuff outside of CAN, with or without Purdue alums, CAN is not a part of me.
Let me explain. CAN had a golf outing this past weekend - about 35 schools participated. Purdue was able to get a foursome together (just barely) and we had a decent outing. But that's not the point. The point was that for this outing, I'm sure it took A LOT of planning so there was a planning committee - but then at the end of it, and in the programs, they had a page full of volunteers. These were the people that made sure the buckets were filled with drinks, ice was available, drive around the course to make sure everyone was doing ok, etc. That's great that they found volunteers from all different schools but I have to wonder - when it's 95 degrees, extremely HUMID and a Saturday, where do these volunteers come from? My guess is that CAN is a part of them. I didn't hear of an email going out to the schools asking for volunteers for the event so I'm assuming that these are a set group of people that will jump at the opportunity to lend a helping hand with CAN. (By the way, CAN is a non-profit; non-revenue generating organization.) Cause I know if an email did go out to the Purdue club asking for volunteers, all they would've gotten in response....crickets.
It's not just with the golf outing but it just seems like CAN is a way of life for some of the folks involved. If they're not on the board, they're planning an event. If they're not planning an event, they're helping out with another event. If they're not helping, they're drinking under a banner, at a bar, with CAN written all over it. If you take the CAN out of these people, then what do you have left? My guess - a pile of dust.
I'm not knocking them (really), because without them, none of this would be possible. But I have to wonder also, is it possible to have a regular life and do other stuff with CAN on the side or is running CAN really like having a second job?
There has to be about 100 colleges involved in CAN. It's such a great way to network, meet other alums and just meet people in general. You start seeing the same faces at all different kinds of events and it's fun. Since I'm a Purdue alum and I participate in the sports teams, I am, in a way, a part of CAN. However, because I do a lot of stuff outside of CAN, with or without Purdue alums, CAN is not a part of me.
Let me explain. CAN had a golf outing this past weekend - about 35 schools participated. Purdue was able to get a foursome together (just barely) and we had a decent outing. But that's not the point. The point was that for this outing, I'm sure it took A LOT of planning so there was a planning committee - but then at the end of it, and in the programs, they had a page full of volunteers. These were the people that made sure the buckets were filled with drinks, ice was available, drive around the course to make sure everyone was doing ok, etc. That's great that they found volunteers from all different schools but I have to wonder - when it's 95 degrees, extremely HUMID and a Saturday, where do these volunteers come from? My guess is that CAN is a part of them. I didn't hear of an email going out to the schools asking for volunteers for the event so I'm assuming that these are a set group of people that will jump at the opportunity to lend a helping hand with CAN. (By the way, CAN is a non-profit; non-revenue generating organization.) Cause I know if an email did go out to the Purdue club asking for volunteers, all they would've gotten in response....crickets.
It's not just with the golf outing but it just seems like CAN is a way of life for some of the folks involved. If they're not on the board, they're planning an event. If they're not planning an event, they're helping out with another event. If they're not helping, they're drinking under a banner, at a bar, with CAN written all over it. If you take the CAN out of these people, then what do you have left? My guess - a pile of dust.
I'm not knocking them (really), because without them, none of this would be possible. But I have to wonder also, is it possible to have a regular life and do other stuff with CAN on the side or is running CAN really like having a second job?
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