Thursday, November 29, 2007

Joe is a whiner

This blog is for Joe. Not me, Jo, but Joe, with an "e" at the end.
He just called me, whining (as usual). His complaint? I don't blog enough, and lately, when I do, I just whine.
Um, hello? Isn't that what blogs are for? To have your own little cyberspace corner to whine?
So, flipping back through my blogs, I see that, hmmmm, maybe Joe's got a point. Previous posts include such topics as homesickness, foot surgery and barfing, crying like a girl after I ran a marathon (wait, I AM a girl), break-up stuff, etc. I seem like a rather depressing person. Maybe that's why Joe keeps bailing on wine/board games.

So here's my happy space:
I have a great life. I like my job. I get to leave at 5:30 every day. I have the most awesome dog ever. I get to run again, in early January. I'm drinking much less soda than I used to. (But maybe slightly more beer.) I just bought some Christmas decorations for my house--even though it kind of goes against my low-consumerism philosophy. But my house is cherry and sleigh bells ring-ring-ringy right now.

There. Joe. Are you happy?

Monday, November 19, 2007

As Thanksgiving nears...

I’m going to be completely honest: sometimes I get homesick. Not really for any particular place—I don’t get homesick for my hometown, but I miss my parent’s house during the holidays. I miss San Luis sometimes, too. But not really San Luis, per say. I miss having fantastic mountain biking, right there. Out my back door. I miss the lifestyle. But because it’s almost the holidays, I’m missing my family, and living close to everyone—close enough to drive home, instead of flying. I’m not flying home for the holidays this year, and I didn’t last year, and I understand, that as long as I live across the country, flying home is not a fun activity, since it involves long airport lines, and a very good possibility of getting bumped off flights.
I sometimes (this is a recent thing) think about moving back closer to family. I’m not even sure where that is anymore. My parents are in California. My siblings are in Oregon. I have grandparents in Washington. Cousins and an uncle and an aunt in Nevada.
My parents are talking about moving to Mt. Hood, near my brother, in a few years. I kind of like the thought of being closer to all of them in the future. Seattle? Portland? Not bad cities. Close to good skiing. Mt. biking there is good, so is the running. I do know that wherever I live, the outdoor recreation is paramount. You’ll never find me in, say, Fresno.
I’m kind of at a loss to explain this sudden homesickness, or whatever it may be. Perhaps I’m just feeling a bit suffocated at the moment. I kind of see my life laid out if I stay here, and granted, I think I would have a very good life here. But then again, I’ve always been a bit transient, and I like tackling new adventures and places. I’m not ready to move, anytime soon, at all. I still love NC. I’m content here, and I want to stay in my current job for at least 2 more years. But sometimes, it’s a nice escape to think about possibilities. I guess we all need that.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Musings from a slow day at work

Hmmm, haven’t blogged in awhile. Here’s an update: still have walking cast on my foot. Still not running. Ughh. I keep having these dreams where I’m running, and I know I’m not supposed to be, but I keep going because it feels okay, and the whole time I’m thinking, this is totally going to screw my recovery. And I wake up wishing I could run.

But life’s not all about that. My parents were in town a few weeks ago, and we had a great visit. They very generously did some massive work on my house, which I’m quite grateful for. New paint in the guest bedroom and bathroom, new shelves, fixtures, pulls, gutters cleaned…the list goes on. We had a nice time, and I was sad to see them go.

I can’t believe the holidays are approaching so fast. Wasn’t it just summer, like yesterday? Suddenly, all of the buzz about turkey day approaching, which, BTW, is my least-favorite culinary holiday. I find it interesting that Americans, typically so adept at modifying and customizing EVERYTHING (I once worked at Starbucks; I know), will not get out of the eat-only-turkey-stuffing-pumpkin-pie rut. Really. I normally am not a picky eater, but I really find turkey to be always dry and tasteless, the stuffing to be only marginally okay—despite Martha Stewart’s attempts to improve the dish for her beloved readers—and cranberries? Why were they ever paired with turkey? Is it really appetizing to eat a fuchsia object that retains its cylindrical shape long after it’s been shaken from the tin? (Always accompanied by an odd slurping/sucking sound.) I think not. Desert isn’t even good. I don’t care for pumpkin pie—if it’s apple, fine, but if you’re going to eat pie, praise the Lord and throw some chocolate in. Or peeled fruit. But then, you would be veering from sacred tradition, and that would be sacrilegious.

For two blessed Thanksgivings, my family defied the crowd and we ate Paella for our Thanksgiving feast. The Spanish have much better culinary taste. Despite what the history books say, I'm willing to bet that those first pilgrims ate a dish as flavorful as Paella instead of celebrating around a dry, overstuffed gobbler. But I digress.

Since I’ve moved across the country, and because I refuse to fly home, or anywhere, during the busiest travel day of the year, I am now resigned to spending my Thanksgivings as a guest. Last year, I had a true-southern Thanksgiving in Virginia. This year I’ll be in Florida.

Which means? I’ll be eating turkey, and not delicious Paella.