Fake it ’til I make it (funny, that is)

Sooooo….looks like I never got around to finishing my post from Tennessee. You’ll just have to wait several years until my memoir is published. Since then, I traveled to San Francisco for another conference. I told everyone I was going to San Fran — most of the time, however, I was in Palo Alto at Stanford. I’ve learned that Palo Alto isn’t really even close enough to be a suburb. But it was still a good trip.

What’s more fun to share now is my start into the world of improvisational comedy. I’m taking an eight-week Foundations of Improv class through the Washington Improv Theater. My first class was last night, and it went much better than I expected.

Background: Ever since seeing Mee-Ow my freshman year at Northwestern, I have had a crush on improv. I used to think that the performers really must study and rehearse and practice something–anything–related to any possible word a person throws at them. Oh, so much work, I thought! But since learning that wasn’t how they did it, I wanted to take a class myself. So I finally did it! I enrolled in the class I’m in now.

There are about 11 students right now. I’m sure two or three will drop out within the eight weeks, which is kinda sad because I already had so much fun with them. We did goofy games reminiscent of Girl Scout icebreakers. Games that when we played them in ninth grade, made me roll my eyes and try to find a way out. And yes, at first my instinct was “Oh no. Say my name and make a gesture? And then repeat someone else’s gesture? Ugh.”

BUT the cool thing about the class and my fellow students — is that it’s a real mix of bold and quiet. Some people are already pretty uninhibited. They’re bold and big in their gestures. A few others, like me, are more timid. I know we’ll get better and open up more, but for the time, it’s a comfortable setting around people who are A-OK acting like goofs while also not feeling the pressure to immediately be just like them.

As for me — I was actually impressed with some of what I said and did. I had a few good zingers and received some kudos from the teacher and laughs from my peers. For one game I had to act out a suggestion at what someone was doing, which was sorting through her dirty underwear drawer. So I did what seemed natural — pulled open the drawer, picked up a pair, sniffed pair (laughs) and then licked them (gross, but more laughs). I became the panty sniffer/person who tastes everything. I even used that character (is that the right word?) in a later game.

I was also weaker during some of the games. (Tell a story about the moon? Ummmmm….ok. I’m an awful storyteller.) But I still did my best and got through them. I’m really excited for next week.

In other news, I may be moving out of my apartment in Maryland and into a house in Virginia. Details are still pending.

And a rant/dilemma: I love the new song from Timbaland. It really gets my booty shaking. I learned its title is called “The Way I Are.” Now, maybe this line is sung in the song, but I am horrible with picking up lyrics, so learning of the title today while reading Express just broke my Medill-trained heart. The dilemma is now — do I still express my love of this song when it is played? Or do I ignore it in protest? I’m not a grammar hard-ass as much as other people. But still. That’s just awful.

I’ll probably dance to it for now anyway. Chances are, I will grow tired of it within a few weeks.

I’m predictable in not posting

It’s been about 1,000 years since my last post. But what’s new?

Life is just chugging along. Work is work, kickball is kickball. I completed my first print design job from start to finish. All by myself. I’ve used the powerful desktop publishling/design programs for awhile now, playing with them to make fliers and kickball newsletters. The one thing I’ve never done is designed with the intent of working with a print shop.

Easy enough? Yes, but this project had only two colors in it. Spot colors actually. With photos. And that can simply be a challenge, especially when working with such a short deadline.

I lucked out in getting the recommendation of a very affordable and high quality printer. He delivered my project two days early, and I look like a rock star. My colleagues are so happy we were able to complete the project in house, instead of hiring a freelance designer.

I leave in four days for a conference in Tennessee. I’m staying two extra days to hike in the Smoky Mountains, sightsee a little and relax. Yes, I’m going solo. So who knows what adventures await me. I know that one I get to a summit, I’m going to be the happiest girl in the world seeing the view. And then it will feel even better trying out some regional microbrews and BBQ later in the evening. Not really sure what else I’m going to do while there — there’s a cool looking aquarium in Gatlinburg that I may check out.

I received notification of a great job that opened up in Pittsburgh. A regional development/marketing group looking for a communications person. Mmmm. What a perfect gig. I think I’d be a good match (I refuse to do health care or manufacturing communications, which is what most of Pgh offers in my field). But I don’t know if I’m ready to leave the DC area quite yet. I’m still having fun, and even though I’m older and much more comfortable with just myself, I’m terrified of moving back to western Pennsylvania and not being able to develop any social network. Pittsburgh is definitely becoming more young-adult friendly, but it’s not DC yet. But it’s tough to not want to apply and just see if I’m a contender.

exhausted … again

I suspect like most blog writers, I kept a journal when I was growing up. In fact, I sometimes still write it in. I’ve noticed that I have had a pattern of mostly journal writing when I’m feeling ho hum, sad or really confused. I’m starting to think I do the same with this blog.

I’m feeling so tired. And so blah. I really enjoy my job (been there more than a month). Because I came from an envrionment that was so scattered, it’s not much of a shift to work in the environment I am in now. I almost think I’m working too much, but that’s because, I think, we’re only days away from our national conference. I guess I should feel stressed, but I don’t … not like my usual “ohimigod-i-cant-do-this-the-world-is-ending” stressed outreactions. I don’t seem to care that I still have several press releases to write and distribute and a powerpoint presentation to create. Before Wednesday. Which means tomorrow.

I’m feeling more stressed that I have to dress up four days — like suit dress up — and I can probably pull off dressing up only two days. Plus I need more pantyhose because I always get runs. And my shoes won’t be comfortable. And working 14 hours each day is going to exhaust me.

Not to mention that I’m really bummed I’m not getting the amount of media I want to commit to the event. Doesn’t sound like they’ve had much in the past, but I wanted to be the one who could walk in and make it happen. Sigh.

BUT in good news, I’ll get lots of food for free.

I went grocery shopping last week for the first time in maybe two months. I spent $90ish on what I considered two weeks worth of food. I was shocked when I looked at my bank statement and saw that I was spending sometimes $10 or $12 FOR LUNCH! Multiple times aweek. So I’ve been very determined to do my grocery shopping and not succumb to buying more food out. For two weeks. And I’d reward myself with Chipotle or whatever random junk I craved.

I almost succeeded except last Friday I was dying for a Diet Coke. The vending machine in our basement was sold out, so I walked a few blocks to Union Station’s food court. The cheapest, biggest fountain drinks were at the sushi place. So naturally, I splurged on an assortment of sushi.

My new job came with a big raise. But taxes have sucked most of that increase out of my paycheck, and I’m bringing home a lot less than I calculated. There go my plans for saving $10,000 this year, tap dance lessons, golf lessons, yoga sessions, gym membership, improv classes, graphic design classes, and monthly massages. Hm. Maybe I was overcalculating how much I’d have. Now my goal is to save enough money to pay off my credit card bill.

Once I pay it off, I think I want to seriously consider looking into and talking to a plastic surgeon about my lip scar. I know. I know. I’ve had this debate with myself for more than a decade — to revise or not revise, to plump or not? I know the scar ISN’T that bad. I’m sure I’m much more conscious of it than anyone else is. I don’t even know what my options are (and Google isn’t telling me. There’s so little information available about procedures for adults). Just today I discovered another possibility — permanent makeup. Then there’s the issue of am I denying my true self? I can wax philosophical for hours, maybe longer, about my cleft as part of my being me. So that’s why I’ll work off the credit card debt, accrue acation/sick time, and deal it with hopefully this year.

Spring kickball is happening in a few weeks. Bocce in a few after that. There will be Brew helpers this year, whichis good because we’re playing three nights a week. I’m happy to see us grow, but I have mixed feelings about it means for my free time. Thank goodness for Brew help.

Jimmy Buffett tickets went on sale today!

UGH I deleted the original post. And there’s no way to go back to the original post. Blech.

Long story short, I’m a doofus at buying tickets, but Alena’s order went through so….

WE’RE GOING TO JIMMY BUFFETT!

I Just Did What?!

So I signed up for the Cherry Blossom 10 Mile Run. Race is on April 1.

Right now, I can run a good two minutes at 5 mph for about 30 minutes (I alternate running with walking).

Summary: I have a lot of training to do.

For about six years I’ve been an on- and off-wannabe runner. I sign up at a gym and work out on the treadmill for a few weeks before something happens and I lose momentum. Then a few months later, I’ll get inspiration to try again, only to stop just a day or two later.

My best excuse has been that my flat feet can’t do it. I just don’t have the right shoes. I’d go to a speciality shoe store to find the right pair. But boohoo, I’m too embarrassed.

Over Thanksgiving break, I went to a running store near my house and the grandmama bought me a pair as a birthday gift. So now there are no excuses. I’m 30 and I’m going to run my first race.

My motivation: Losing weight? Sure. Being healthier? OK. Accomplishing something big? That’s fine.

My true motivation: Buying cute running clothes. I can’t wait to get sports bras, pants, shorts, socks — the look of a true runner. I can only have it if I keep up the work I’ve started. Until then, it’s scrubby tshirts and sweatpants. Hmmm…perhaps I should set up a reward system based on weeks of training accomplished or miles run.