What day is it, Mike?

Oh yeah, it's HumpDay!  We can do this!  Bringing home the end of the week like a boss.

Resolute

It's February. It's gray. It's cold. It snowed today. I haven't seen sunshine in something like 942 days.  I am not prone to exaggeration, it really is this bad. But then I saw a meme that said something like, "If you choose not to find joy in the snow, you will have less joy but the same amount of snow." Touché. So, here are the good things that have happened today: I got outside and shoveled said snow. I got some fresh air and the temperature was actually pleasant and the snow was easy to shovel - not to mention that I have a tool that is purposely designed with shoveling snow in mind.  It is affordable, easy-to-use, and I own it! It was sitting right by the back door of my house. Also, I left my warm house wearing an appropriate amount of warm-weather clothes and I drove my car (which - get this - has HEATED! SEATS!) to a grocery store, which is literally filled with all kinds of food.  I bought a few things and was able to pay for them because my work magically sends money directly from their bank to mine every couple of weeks. I drove home on smoothly paved and recently plowed streets because I live in a town that stays on top of those things and all I have to do is pay them some money through my property taxes! I then brought my groceries into my home and put them away in my cabinets and refrigerator. A little while after that, I decided to take myself and my computer over to a coffee shop where I not only got to consume awesome and delicious coffee but I got to sit and browse the internet and then start writing this here message. While I was sitting here, Johnny Cash (I Walk the Line) came on the sound system, followed by Stevie Wonder (For Once in My Life), followed by Sam Cooke (Bring It On Home To Me)- three songs I love - it's like they are using one of my playlists!

One of my resolutions for 2020, and life in general, is to enjoy things more. I spent a lot of time just going through the motions for a lot of years. I have actually been working on finding more joy in my life for a little while now. I'm doing a pretty good job at it. One thing that I keep saying I want to do more, that I haven't done yet (save for a brief period last spring when I challenged myself to do it for a week or so) is write. I really do enjoy it. I'm not sure what all I'll be writing about, but I'm sure it will come to me. Welcome to 2020 (OK, this is a little belated). What are you working on this decade?   

As I mentioned just moments ago (go back and re-read - I'll wait...), I am trying to enjoy things more.  That means a lot of things to me. First of all, I am trying to slow down, not rush through life. I am taking time to open my eyes, look around and take in all the things around me. There is beauty all around. There is beauty in not burying my head in my iPhone screen. I am finding joy in just noticing this. It is loud in this coffee shop right now. I had earbuds in playing white noise for a while, but I took them out. Friends are talking and laughing with each other. Music is playing (a little too loud).  Kids are in here doing homework together. These things are all totally normal but I am totally enjoying noticing them. I don't need a lot of stuff to be happy, but since I happen to have a lot of stuff, I'm working on actively appreciating those things as well. 2020 is filled with all kinds of simple magic. I hope you are already enjoying some of it!

Be willing to be wrong

Imagine the following scenario: you are an excellent driver (obviously). You are driving excellently to work. You are on a road that is two lanes in each direction, with a speed limit of 45 miles per hour. Your superb navigation and execution skills have you purposefully driving in the left lane, not tailgating, at approximately 9.85 miles per hour over the posted speed limit, a rate generally accepted by local law enforcement types who seem to follow a “9 you’re fine, 10 you’re mine” rule. Things are going well. Suddenly, another driver is rapidly approaching from behind. He must be going 70. “In a 45!?!” you think. Next thing you know, he’s practically in your backseat.  

For a split second you think, “Just who does this guy think he is? I am an excellent driver, driving along at the fastest possible safe speed given the posted speed limit and I think I’m going to teach him a thing or two about patience,” but instead, you move over to the right lane to let him pass. A few moments later, you’re sitting there at the same red light. When the light turns green, however, the cars in his lane aren’t going fast enough for him, so he darts over into the right lane, right behind you, glued to you like a back pocket. He rides your bumper, just waiting for the first opportunity to dart back over to the left lane, ahead of the slow pack. 

As luck would have it, even though the right lane was faster out of the gate, the lead cars eventually catch up to one another, both deciding that 44 and 3/4 is just the right speed to drive side-by-side. Under normal circumstances, this would annoy you because, hey - there’s a lane for people who want to drive like that. But right now, you’re jonesing to get out of a spot you don’t want to be in, and the guy behind you is jonesing even harder. When you look in your rear view mirror, all you can see is his big dumb head, about to explode, as it were, because he is driving so close behind you. The car in front of you finally breaks free from its neighbor in the next lane and a spot opens for you to get through. You pull into it,  knowing you’re just going to have to pass and get back over in the right lane to free the beast behind you, which is not normally your style (see above re: your excellent driving). But, nonetheless, this is what you do to end the madness.

If you’re crazy like me, a scenario like the one above would have you reeling for the rest of the commute and probably into the first part of your day. “I had this asshole driving behind me who must have had someplace really important to be,” you lament to your coworker, who asked how you were in an effort to pass the time while waiting for coffee. But why do we let situations like that get to us?  I think it’s because deep down inside, we really, really want to be right. Other drivers usually affirm your rightness by getting in line behind you.  This guy, however, let it be known that you were wrong by his standards.

The driving scenario is just one illustration but the idea of wanting to be right is probably playing out all over your life. I know it is for me and it’s causing me strife and needless drama. What if you were willing to be wrong? “Oh, you want to drive faster? Go ahead of me.” “Oh, that’s how you load the dishwasher? The hot water and soap will probably still spray the dishes when they’re facing that direction.” “Oh, that’s how you’re going to tackle this project? That’s interesting - I hadn’t thought of it that way.” What if the world isn’t as black and white as your brain wants you to believe? What if there’s more than one way to be right? Gnaw on that a little bit. You might find yourself letting things go that once used to really get to you. 

Churning up something good!

Friends, it’s Friday! Can we just take a moment to celebrate a few awesome things? First of all, my honey and I got to take a solo trip (without our kids!) to Austin last fall. I attended a conference for work and we he came along for an adventure. It was really our first getaway without the kids since, well, ever!  Also, this shadow across the top of the picture means I didn’t get the perfect picture I hoped for, but it also means the sun was shining! We showed up in Austin during and unusual cold and rainy spell but on our last day in town, it was sunny and warmer. Lastly, butter - amIright?!? It’s amazing.  

Want what you’ve got

I know it’s cliche to say it’s not about getting what you want, it’s about wanting what you have, but I’m going to say it anyway. You have to remember to keep wanting the things you already have. We are constantly bombarded with the idea that we have to keep accumulating things and wealth and status to live the American Dream and keep up with the Joneses. It’s so ingrained in our culture that we live in a perpetual state of never being satisfied. We just keep telling ourselves, “If I can just achieve the next goal, then I’ll be happy.” Upgrade, upgrade, upgrade. 

But it’s so important to remember that most of the things you have right now are things you once really wanted. Do not forget that, and better yet, remember to celebrate the fact that you were able to get something you actively worked for. I completed an exercise recently in which the assignment was to make a detailed list of things I want out of life.  The instructions indicated that most people, when they do this, make an entire list of things they don’t have. Instead, strive to have every second or third item on the list be something you already have. 

Normally, when I stumble upon exercises like this, I give them a little thought, maybe start a list in my head, maybe even think, “I should write this down...nah, too much work.”  For whatever reason, this time I wrote it down on paper. I made a list of 25 things I want from life. 12 of them are things I already have (e.g., to be married, to have two kids, to own a bitchin’ bungalow, to have a pet cat, to drive the car I drive, to have an awesome front porch, etc.). Another few other items on the list are things I’m already working toward but haven’t fully achieved yet. The remaining items are things I want but don’t yet know when or how I will get them. 

This idea was a game changer for me. For years and years, I would sit around feeling bad about all the things I wanted that I didn’t have. It never, ever occurred to me that I already had a whole bunch of things I wanted. It also did not occur to me that the mere thought, “I really want X but I don’t have it” feels bad, while “I want X and I’ve got it” feels good. It’s really easy to take the things we do have for granted but I promise it feels so much more satisfying to continue to acknowledge the things in your life that you actively sought and subsequently received. Even if you ultimate decide that you want to replace some of the things on your list, do take a moment to recognize the value the original thing brought to your life (as in, “I was so glad to have lived this apartment that fit into my budget and was conveniently located. Now I’m ready to move into a house.” or maybe even, “this job had its ups and downs but I’m thankful that it helped me identify some characteristics that are important to find in my next job”).

One last thought on this - I want to put it out there that it’s completely possible - and in some cases, advisable -  to change your thoughts on a subject to improve how you feel. I’ll give you an example from my life: last year, I was fortunate enough to replace my old car with a new one. My old car was red, and I loved that about it. For a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that I wasn’t finding a red version of the car I wanted to buy with the features I was looking for, I ended up purchasing a gray car this time around. It’s a great car and I love so many things about it but it wasn’t long before I was spotting red versions of it on the road and eyeing them longingly. Honestly, it didn’t feel so great to be thinking I should’ve looked harder for a red car while I still owe a boatload of money on a gray car. So, I put an end to it. Here’s how I think about it now: I bought the exact car I was supposed to buy. I love it, I’m lucky to have it, and I’m going to drive it for as long as I can. When I’m done with it, the next car I buy will be red. It’s far more satisfying to be pleased with what I do have than to wish I had something different. 

Now, I realize this example is fine when you have the luxury of choice but plenty of times in life, things come along and slap you upside the head and you don’t get any real say in the matter. I’m not suggesting anybody should go around reminding themselves how glad they are to have been laid off or how wonderful it is that their mom has cancer. But I do know that I have been through a lot of shitty things in life and there are positive things in my life right now that I would not have had but for living through the shitty things. I do think it’s possible to acknowledge the shitty things for the lessons they are teaching or the skills they are building. And I do think it’s possible to want to experience the lows in life so that you get to feel the full effect of the highs, if that makes sense. In the meantime, maybe start with something simpler and build up momentum before moving on to the more existential questions. 

Rule 32

If you’ve ever seen Zombieland, you may remember the running list of rules the main character has developed to help him survive the zombie apocalypse (side note: if you haven’t seen this movie, do).  I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest most of the rules are also applicable to surviving everyday life. (Although, to be fair, haven’t we all kind of evolved into iPhone-addicted drudges over the last decade, staring into our tiny screens all the live-long day? We’ve created our own form of Zombieland, but I digress). I’d like to call your attention, for a moment, to Rule 32: Enjoy the Little Things. We should all strive to remember this one. 

One of the little things, for me, is stationery - paper products, journals and the likes. I don’t really know why, I’m just drawn to them. If I’m trying to let my heart be happy, I know a surefire way is to march my butt into the paper aisle of any local establishment peddling such wares. Oddly, though, when I do buy a journal or notebook, I often find myself reluctant to actually use it. It’s so beautiful and pristine without my crap in it - why ruin perfectly crisp paper? Strange, I know. In the end, I usually buy the notebooks, scribble down a few thoughts in them, and then throw them away a few years later when I come across them again and discover they're tainted with a few pages worth of my useless old thoughts. 

In an effort to enjoy the little things and celebrate small victories, though, I am pleased to report that I recently filled an entire journal, beginning to end, for the first time in my life! By and large, it was a gratitude journal, with a few other thoughts interspersed here and there. I don’t know if I’ll ever crack it open again, but if I do, I will find it is filled with over 1,000 things I was grateful for in late 2018/early 2019 - over 1,000 little things I enjoyed. If you’ve ever contemplated keeping a gratitude journal but haven’t gotten around to it (like me, for the past decade). I do highly recommend it. I started writing down 10 things per day that I am grateful for. Coming up with 10 is sometimes a challenge, but it has definitely gotten me into the habit of routinely scanning the world for the little things. 

Fix all the things!

Sometimes inspiration strikes and I find myself striving to improve in all areas of my life. I want to be a better wife, mom, daughter, friend, employee, neighbor and citizen. I am going to get thinner, smarter, less indebted, more well-rounded, happier and taller. And at the same time as I’m improving in every way, I am going to learn to love myself as-is. I’ll be the same old me, but with a cleaner house, shinier hair, a discernible muscle (or two!) and a greater sense of clarity and purpose. This really does not seem like too much to ask. 

Now, I do say some of that in jest but as I begin to reflect upon nearly four decades of life, I do actually find myself inspired to improve. But it’s a different kind of inspiration this time, I think.  As it turns out, I might be kind of a cool human being. At least, I think so.  So, now comes the part where I stop treating myself like a big old piece of crap and start shedding layers of bullshit like self-loathing, shame, guilt, self-pity, doubt. Don’t get me wrong, I have always thought I was a pretty decent version of humans, on the balance. But I also always thought that you weren’t allowed to think something good about yourself without thinking at least one bad thing about yourself to balance it out. What the what? How on earth is this a helpful thing we’re taught to believe by our families, our culture, our religions? 

Instead, I’m going to be trying out a new belief. I’ve decided to believe it’s pretty useless to sit around collecting reasons why I suck. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be over here, not sucking anymore. And, because I’ll be busy not sucking anymore, I think I’m going to have to dispense with all the ways punish myself for sucking. It’s going to take practice to keep believing this new belief and it might take the next 40 years to unload the bad habits but that’s ok, I don’t think there’s a deadline. 

[tap][tap] Is this thing on?

Ahem.

Kristentatious here, reporting live from 2019!  Hello world; I’m still alive and I’ve made it this far! I occasionally think about how I miss writing and then I promptly do nothing about it. “Maybe I should blow the dust off the old Wit Spot,” I think to myself. So, here I am with a leaf blower. You know me - always busting out the leaf blower when a pair of bellows would work just fine. Have a Monday, you guys. Let’s see where the day takes us!

If you've ever been a lady to begin with

Let me preface this by saying the following complaint belongs squarely in the "things I really shouldn't give a damn about but instead I find myself immensely annoyed by" category. Probably if you were to write a book about this particular irritation of mine, you would title the book "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff."  And yet, it annoys me nonetheless. 

As a person who was had the pleasure of being involved with two separate productions of Guys and Dolls, I find myself really, ridiculously irritated when people misuse the phrase, "luck be a lady tonight."  No, seriously. And it happens more often than you'd think, too!

Over the years, on numerous occasions I've heard men use that phrase in a context that implies they hope to meet a woman and hook up. But really, if people would just listen to the damn song lyrics they would understand that it has nothing to do with taking some chick home at the end of the night. What "luck be a lady" really means is that luck has been on your side lately and you want it to be ladylike and stick with you, loyally and faithfully.  Maybe the song should have been called, "luck be a golden retriever" or, "luck don't run out on me now," except those phrases don't have quite the same ring to them. 

In conclusion, based on what I know about the meaning of the phrase, I can only assume these people prefer their luck cold, creamy and delicious:

But shoe shopping is supposed to be fun!

One of the most frustrating things about getting older is that fashion keeps changing and I don't. I feel like I am increasingly asked to embrace hideous, tacky and ridiculous clothing as acceptable wardrobe choices. Skinny jeans. High waisted, pleated short shorts. Leggings as pants. Short, wide shirts. Gladiator sandals. Pastel anything. No. I used to have more patience when I was younger but now shopping is just an exercise in pure frustration. Everything's ugly, nothing fits and I can't afford any of it anyway. 

But shoe shopping....that's another story. Shoes don't care if you gained 5 pounds. I can reliably pick out two shoe sizes and one of them will fit. But guys, what is going on with shoes?!?  I just spent over an hour in DSW, and my experience went roughly like this: "Too ugly. Too flat. Ick. Who would wear that?  Way too tall. So cheaply made. Looks like something an old lady would wear. Looks like something I had as a kid. OH MY GOD SO CUTE. Oh, Michael Kors...can't afford them." And so on, up and down every damn aisle of that store. 

Two common themes I noticed: 1) huarache sandals. I had a bunch of those in the 80s. Is it wrong that I don't want to dress like a seven-year-old version of me anymore?  2) Sandals that look like mini personal jail cells for your feet. I just want a cute pair of sandals, dammit!  

I did find these, though I didn't buy them because they didn't fit my parameters (they were neither multipurpose nor sandals). But, come on, black and white pretty much goes with anything, right?

Song Burst

Does anybody remember that game SongBurst from back in the 1900's?  Where you got some lyrics and had to finish singing the song? I think I owned it in junior high or high school and of course it was right up my alley because I have so many song lyrics stored in my brain that I'm pretty sure they're taking up space that could be used for legitimate memories or knowledge. Bursting into song spontaneously is a regular occurrence for me. Sometimes without realizing I'm doing it. Oftentimes in response to a statement or question that reminds me of a song. I'm sure it's not annoying at all and that it has never caused my husband to want to wring my neck. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I was sitting at Starbucks this afternoon, sipping my iced coffee, when the baristas spontaneously burst into a round of Montell Jordan's This Is How We Do It. After a few moments of that, one barista chimed in, "No guys, this is how we BREW it."  It was super cute, of course (well, to me, at least).  But, more than that, it made me miss having fun at work. 

Now, don't get me wrong--enjoying the occasional laugh with my current set of coworkers is basically all that keeps me sane. But are there people who manage to make their work consistently fun?  Even if the nature of their work is inherently unfun?  I'm sure, in part, it's just a mindset, like happiness. How do I reintroduce fun into my work, and into my life generally?  And where the hell did it go for so long?  I swear I used to be a fun person!  I have song lyric knowledge to prove it!

Challenge

In the spirit of self-improvement, I'm trying out something new. I always say I enjoy writing but I've just become too busy to write. And while that's mostly true, I do find time to do other things that are monumental wastes of my time (I'm looking at you, The Internet). Certainly I could find a few minutes to jot down a few words here and there if I made even half an ounce of effort.

So...I'm challenging myself to write just a little bit. That's all. Just start writing with no pressure for a long or funny story. This is really hard for me because I'm kind of a perfectionist. Even just shooting off a three sentence email to a good friend involves several rounds of edits and careful consideration (obsession) of whether the tone could be misconstrued, etc. Anyway, see?  I did it. 

Now Therefore Be It Resolved

Wow, Friends!  At a rate of three posts per year, I'd say I've really got this writing thing by reins!  And also, Hey there, 2013, how's it going?  I have to be honest with you, 2013, I basically put all my eggs in The Great Rapture of 2012 basket, so I am utterly unprepared for your arrival.  Please don't look in the corners or open that door over there.  But, welcome nonetheless. 

 

So, obviously, THIS is the year I will become better, richer, thinner, prettier, funnier and more well-rounded.  No pressure.  I've got a bunch of stuff in the works, though--most of it life changing, and all of it easily enacted and likely to finally stick this time, so, you know...fingers crossed.  If not, you like me the way I am, right?  (If not, get off my damn blog.  I'm probably only getting worse from here on out.)

 

I am looking forward to the new year, though.  I wouldn't say I necessarily make firm resolutions each year, but when I change the wall calendar, it seems like as good a time as any to do a life-in-review.  You know, make sure I'm on the right track.  Assess where I've been too lazy and determine the need for a swift kick in the pants.  Everybody needs a swift kick in the pants now and again.  I offer a service, if you need. I haven't had a chance to do my annual sit-at-Starbucks-and-contemplate-my-life event yet, so I'm not yet able to delineate my areas of focus for 2013.  Instead, here's a meme--and my lazy attempt at a retrospective on 2012.  2012 was an OK year.  It was definitely better than 2011, though that's not saying much.  I did some shit I was proud of in 2012, though, so all in all I can't complain.

 

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?

I did 3 things in 2012 that I had put off far too long and that I'm especially proud of.  I made myself vulnerable to rejection, but instead I was accepted.  I faced my fear of failure, but instead I succeeded.  And last but not least, I did something that terrified the bajeezus out of me, and it was not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
As I mentioned above, I don't make resolutions, per se, but I do identify areas I'd like to work on.  I made my health and exercise a priority in 2012 and I stuck with it for the better part of the year, until things got really busy the last couple of months.  I will continue that and intend to determine what I need to focus on this year, but haven't done so yet.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
 Not this year.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes.  My grandma died in 2012.

5. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
The ability to stop my incessant worrying.

6. What countries did you visit?
I stayed in the US but visited MI, IN, IA, WI and FL.

7. What date from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:
No specific dates stand out. 

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I applied for, and received, a promotion at work.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I now do far more work for nearly the same pay.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
No major illness or injuries, but I'm currently on day 14 of a back-to-back-to-back cold-flu-sinus thing.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
I really tried to rein in excessive spending and buying last year, so the best thing was everything I didn't buy.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Honestly?  Mine.  I was very disciplined for the better part of the year. 

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
 Politicians.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Living expenses. Paying off bills. Buying things for my whiny kids.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
I took a writing class at Second City that I was really excited about.  In the end, I didn't really love scene writing, though.

16. What song will always remind you of 2012?
Some Nights by Fun.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder?  A little happier.
ii. thinner or fatter?  A little thinner.
iii. richer or poorer?  A little richer?  Not really sure.
 
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Enjoy my children's childhood.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
 Worry.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
We spent Christmas Eve with my parents, brother and Grandma.  On Christmas day we went to my husband's Aunt's house.  Same as we always have.

21. There was no #21. I don’t know why there was no 21.

22. Did you fall in love in 2012?
Nope.  Already in love.

23. How many one-night stands?
??  Zero.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Hmmm.  I watched a lot of HGTV.  I also enjoyed New Girl and Girls.  And I discovered the Big Bang Theory last year (I know--where have I been?!?).

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Nope.  I'm not a hating kind of person.

26. What was the best book you read?
I think I only actually finished reading a couple of books this year--The Hunger Games and Mindy Kaling's book Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns)?

 27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Fun.

28. What did you want and get?
I wanted a Kindle Fire and got one for my birthday, so that was pretty cool.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
I don't see a lot of films.  I think I saw Crazy Stupid Love last year and, you know, Ryan Gosling.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was 33 and my husband and kids made me dinner and dessert. 

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A new home.  It's on the list for 2013.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?
Business casual--as in, I have my work wardrobe and that's about it.

34. What kept you sane?
Coffee. Exercising. Friends.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
 See #30.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
 The election.

37. Who did you miss?
My grandma.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
We became friends with some parents from Eric's baseball team.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012:
 Don't be afraid to do what you need to do to get where you want to go. Nobody else is going to do it for you.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
If you're lost and alone
Or you're sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on

Ten Years Ago

I got to thinking recently (I don't think often, so when I do, it's noteworthy) about how much my life has changed in the past 10 years.  My life has changed so much, in fact, that if you had described to me ten years ago where I'd be today, I would've been all, "Pfft.  You must have the wrong person."  And you'd have been like, "I'm totally serious, Kristi.  Here's a thousand bucks.  Run for the border and change your name and you might be able to escape your fate.  Do not pass go; do not look back.  Just run."

And I'm joking of course; my life is not bad at all.  In fact, there are some things I rather enjoy about it.  It's just that I would've never imagined it would have unfolded in this way.  There are certainly elements of my life that I would've predicted 10 years ago, but the way in which they happened would've been beyond my wildest imagination.  But that's life, right?  The only thing you can really expect from life is to be surprised.

For the sake of reminiscing, ten years ago: I had zero husbands and zero children.  I lived at home with my parents.  I did not even know my husband and was in the midst of dating a series of Mr. Wrongs.  I remember that time period, dating-wise, was particularly infuriating for me.  I did not like to date around.  I just wanted to find one awesome guy and be done with with.  Surely that's not too much to ask, right?  In retrospect, I probably should have been more patient in that arena.  With age comes wisdom. 

Back then, I wanted to do event planning for a career but, coming off the heels of 9/11, that felt like it was going slowly for me.  Generally speaking, though, it has been my experience that the things you're waiting for in life come even more slowly than you expect or want, whereas the possibilities you never considered end up blindsiding you.  Sometimes, you're just going along, minding your own business and suddenly you have a whirlwind shit storm on your hands.  

In the summer of 2002, however, there was no such whirlwind shit storm.  I had just started working at a golf course, in their catering sales department, and I was just about to quit my job waiting tables at Chili's.  All in all, things were looking up for me.  I remember that being a fun summer--I liked the people I worked with, most of my friends were done with college and we were all generally looking to have a good time.  I was 22 and totally self-absorbed.  I was completely incapable of fathoming the series of life-changing events that would unfold over the course of the next two years. 

At the end of the summer of 2002, as a birthday gift to me, my parents paid for me to take an improv class at Second City.  I remember being so excited about that.  Having been long regarded as funny and assured by friends and acquaintances alike that they would see me on Saturday Night Live someday, I was certain that enrolling in classes at Second City would put me on the fast track to comedy brilliance.  Alas, my time at Second City was cut short and my rise to fame was not to be.  I had a fantastic time there, though.  To this day, I can think of few things that get me as excited as enrolling in new improv classes and imagining the possibilities that could unfold therefrom.  I still consider my time at Second City to be unfinished, but whether or not I take more classes there, or somewhere else, or just continue to improvise with friends, improv is the one thing I'm still doing ten years later (after a few year hiatus).  I imagine it will continue to be a part of my life for the foreseeable future.

So there you have it.  Thank you for enduring the trail of tears with me.  Given the the curve ball the last ten years threw me, I've decided not to guess what will happen in the next ten years.  I'll just try to sit back and enjoy the show.  It's weird to think that ten years ago, I had no children and ten years from now, I'll have an 18 and 15-year-old.  Entire childhoods are passing before my very eyes; I should probably slow down and enjoy them!

Why I Y

Over the past couple of years, I have managed to remain fairly dedicated to my physical fitness.  Sure, I've fallen off the wagon for a week or two here, six months there, but overall, I would say that for the first extended period of time in my life, exercising has claimed a proper spot on my to-do list.  I feel pretty good about the fact that, although I relapsed last fall and returned to the state of lazy asshole for a while, I've been fairly diligent for all of 2012. 

This is the part where I'd love to tell you about all the weight I've lost and how toned I am now.  And, really, you should see me.  You'd be so unimpressed.  I keep telling people (because I truly believe it) that all the muscle I'm building--and I'm definitely building muscle--is only serving to push the fat out further.  True story; you heard it here first.  And while I'm proud of myself for remaining committed to my fitness, it is a little disappointing to realize that, for instance, I've developed some kick-ass obliques but nobody except me can tell.  I still look like someone who has 35 flabby pregnancy pounds to lose.  [Author's note: my youngest "baby" is 5 now.  Ahem.]

But anyway, this is not a post about my fitness tips (just force yourself to do it) or totally ripped obliques (I swear they're real); it's about my underlying motivation for working out: the people watching at the YMCA is second-to-none. 

To set the scene, I use the fitness center at a residential Y, which means it's only a step or two removed from a place where you'd find a transient crackhead in a bathrobe jerking off in the corner.  Some of the folks who work out at the Y are (much like myself) ridiculously unfit.  In fact, oftentimes, I feel like one of the healthiest people in there, which is a badge of honor I wear proudly; as they say: in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. 

Now, to be certain, I commend anybody for taking steps to improve their overall health and I realize that we all start somewhere.  My time at the gym is not spent (exclusively) feeling worthier than others who are in worse shape than me.  On the contrary, I largely spend my time attempting to decipher the motivation behind some of the workout get-ups with which these people adorn themselves.  "You there in the long-sleved denim pantsuit; isn't it getting a bit warm in there?" or "Oh no!  One of your crocs fell off while you were running on the treadmill!" and sometimes "Ohheylook!  I have a really similar blouse that I wear to work." or maybe "Where on earth did you find workout gear with shoulder pads!?!"  or "Wow, I would've never thought a t-shirt with that many holes in it would remain in tact for such an aggressive workout!" 

Basically, it's snarky thought after snarky thought (don't worry; the snarky thoughts I think about myself are the meanest of all) and then look!  my workout is over and, also, where did the time go?!?  Every once in a while, a truly attractive, fit person will work out at my Y and I will spend equal amounts of time gawking at and loathing them. But then I get over it because seriously, who truly minds watching the guy with the nice legs running on the treadmill?

In a nutshell, I love the YMCA because there's just enough WTF going on all around me to keep me completely distracted from the fact that my sorry ass has been dragged to the gym for months on end with very little to show for all the effort.  And I'm pretty sure that any day now, the Red Sea of flab is going to part to make way for my six pack abs to shine through.  But don't worry, I'll be sure to keep you updated in the event that actually happens.

Everywhere, signs.

Before I even get started on the story I intended to share, I interrupt this blog post for a tangential thought.  Dear lord, please let's all hope I can eventually remember what I came here for in the first place.

Tangential thought: one of the best parts of being a parent is getting to mess with your kids.  I personally believe bonus parent points can be awarded if you can mess with your kids in such a way that they know they are being messed with, but the reference is far too obscure for them to understand.  Just before Christmas, we took the kids to Lincoln Park Zoo to see the zoo lights.  Note that I say we went to see the zoo lights and not the animals, because the animals, largely, were missing or sleeping.  Also, parts of the zoo were closed or undergoing renovations.  There were signs everywhere explaining why animals were missing or exhibits were closed.  So, the kids kept asking, "What does that sign say?"  And every time they asked me that, I would tell them, "Long haired freaky people need not apply."

But I digress.  Here's where I was going before the train immediately derailed:

Last year for Mothers' Day, Ella made me a gift at daycare.  It was a little sign to hang on my bedroom door (or, presumably, on any door with a knob), that says "Mommy's quiet time."  Ella's teacher explained to a bunch of three- and four-year-olds that they should give their moms time to relax and enjoy some peace and quiet, so when the sign is on the door, they should leave their moms alone. (Right.  But a sweet idea, nonetheless.)

I was cleaning up my bedroom last night and came across the sign on my dresser, so I hung it on my door knob.  When I got home tonight, I discovered that Ella had moved the sign from my door to her door.  My first thought was, "Ella stole my quiet time.  Oh, the irony!"  But then I realized that she moved the sign off my door knob to make room to hang the giant fancy heart she decorated for me for Valentine's Day. 

She's a sweet kid--even if she did steal my quiet time.

Admit it, you're weird too.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who gets angry and shouts at the radio when I hear poor grammar in a song.  Other people are also known to yell things like, "It's who, Katy Perry.  WHO!!  The one WHO got away.  Unless you make a habit of dating inanimate objects, which wouldn't be that surprising, Whooore," right?  Right??  Please tell me I'm not alone in this.

In other news, I've had the luxury recently of driving to and from work with no little people in the car.  This means I get to shout freely at bad grammar on the radio, drivers with poor driving skills and whatever else irritates me.  It's really liberating but it's also possible that my crazy is getting out of control.  CHANGE LANES ALREADY, ASSHAT. 

Now with more books!

Admit it.  It makes me seem smarter right?  I like to give the impression that I'm literate.  Or literary.  Or literal.  One of those.  But not litigious--too much paperwork.

Seriously, people, what is with your cloven hoof fetish?!?

Over four years ago, I quipped about a Nike gym shoe I had just discovered that appears to be designed for people with cloven hooves (me).  You can see it here, if you'd like.  And who on earth would've ever guessed that a) people, to this day, would be googling "Nike cloven hoof" or (some variation thereof) left and right, AND, b) if you google that phrase, the first result you get is my little old website.  How perfectly odd.  I love it!

Totally Her Father's Daughter

Tonight the kids and I hopped in the car around 7:30 to run to the store.  Despite the fact that it was mostly dark already, Eric found his sunglasses and put them on.  As soon as Ella saw that, she demanded her sunglasses as well.  Monkey see, monkey do.  Except, as I reminded her, earlier, she had insisted on leaving her sunglasses at daycare for some reason.  No way, no how were we leaving that building with her sunglasses in our possession.

So, as I backed down our driveway on the way to the store, she began to throw a royal fit over her lack of sunglasses.  At night.  Long, skinny arms and legs went flying in every which direction.  Screaming, kicking, you name it, it all happened.  Eventually, she calmed down enough for me to understand what she was screaming at me.  She was (not so kindly) demanding that we return to school to get her sunglasses.  "Ella, we can't go to your school," Eric told her.  "It's closed now and if we break in, the police will come and we will all go to jail."

Well, lordy, lordy did that girl ever launch into an all new tirade.  I didn't catch every single thing she said, or shrieked, as the case may be, but the gist of it was a three-year-old version of "fuck the police."  She called the police all sorts of mean pre-school names, and insisted that she was going to bite them, scratch them, kick them, etc.  Eric, totally exasperated by her...threeness, replied with a deadpan, "Ella.  If you did all that, you'd be dead in a matter of seconds."

That kid cracks me up.  His delivery was awesome, and I'm not sure that I'm accurately capturing it in writing.  I don't know where he comes up with half of the things he says.  But I get that sentiment--I'm largely exasperated by her threeness as well.  This will pass, I'm sure.  Things will get better.  I do worry, however, about the fact that I'm raising one future cop and one future criminal and/or gangsta rapper.  I hope that works out ok for us.