That's that

For all practical purposes, today was my last day of work. I'll go back in for one more (partial!) day later in the month when my vacation runs out, but this was basically it. Three years, one month and twenty-six days doesn't sound like a tremendously long time, but it feels like my first day was a lifetime ago. After all the agro and all the heartache that place has given me, I wasn't surprised that today felt so anticlimatic...but it still seems like I missed something. Like I should have felt sad or excited or anxious...or....something. Rather, I just tired very quickly of having the same conversation with people over and over again about where I'm going and yes I'll miss the Bank and yes I'm excited and no I won't miss the Texas weather and yes I know it gets cold in Michigan.

Still, I'm not sorry we didn't do more stuff to mark my leaving. I really don't like being the center of attention at those kinds of events (I know, weird....there's actually a time when I don't like to be the center of attention...who knew?).

It was time to leave. Despite a few well-intentioned folks, the Bank is a tremendously toxic, petty place filled with toxic, petty people. This life is too short to be spent surrounded by people who spin nothing but negativity and make you question your self-worth. It's a waste to be underutilized and underappreciated at 24 by people who are threatened by ideas, by intelligence, by creativity. It's just not worth the aggravation, and the money definitely isn't enough to make it worth slogging along for a few more years. I learned many things, but it's time to move on and do something more productive.

In the background right now, City of Angels is playing, and Nicholas Cage reminds me that "somethings are true whether you believe in them or not." It's one of my favorite lines from that movie, and I've been thinking recently about the converse--that some things are false despite the depths to which you believe in them. I think one of the more grisly parts of dealing with things in a nonescapist reality is recognizing that, sometimes, people and experiences aren't what you want them to be. Sometimes, your expectations exceed what the situation can possibly yield, and sometimes your assessments are wrong. Yet there's a decided lack of punch in the the practice of expecting nothing to avoid disappointment. As Steve Martin reminds me in L.A. Story, "a kiss may not be the truth, but it is what we wish we true." Maybe that's why we tend to kiss with eyes closed--makes it easier to wish together the holes in what we know, what we feel. The willing suspension of disbelief can be a shell of safety.

Don't ever get them wet                     

Intuitively, it seems like suburbs are a safe zone outside the dangers realm of the city.  Pretty stucco-exterior homes with sweeping driveways and zillions of bedrooms punctuate tree-lined streets, families stroll to community pools with bouncy children, and runners make their merry way through well-manicured greenbelt trails.  It’s that last part that I chose to indulge last night, and the experience revealed a bit of the suburbs’ edgy side. 

While housesitting for my canine niece and nephew last night, I decided to take advantage of the clean air in lovely Kingwood and go for a run on the trails that lace throughout the small suburb.  I tied my key to my shoe, grabbed a water bottle and my phone, and hit the trail.  The greenbelts, if you aren’t familiar, are wooded, paved trails that snake throughout the maze of streets up there.  Since they weave through and across the whole twisty, cul-de-sacky mess, they aren’t exactly straight.  Can you see where this is going?

I decided to go 15 minutes out and head back—I’m used to running inside and while it wasn’t especially hot, it wasn’t cool, either.  After 15 minutes, it was getting pretty dusky.  The alarm on my phone told me it was time to head back to the house, so I turned around and retraced my steps to the last turn I had made.  It’s not possible to stay on the same trail for very long, because they all deadend into each other.  To make things easier, I had taken only right turns, so everything should have been a left on the way back.  Somehow, somewhere on the return trip, I either missed a turn or took a wrong one, because I found myself on a street that wasn’t anything like the right one.  This was after making several wrong turns, finding myself on other wrong streets, and heading back into the trail.  At this point, it was getting really dark and it seemed like continuing on the unlit trail was a b-a-d bad idea.  Surely, I thought, that street would bring me out to the main road I knew and I could find my way back to the house from there.

That ended up being true, but only after about 40 minutes of wandering around. 

Recall the contents in my hands at the beginning of this story—my phone and a water bottle.  During the active running part of the evening (once I figured out I was lost, I started walking because I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to find my way and I didn’t feel like wasting energy I might need for lots of wandering), I (foolishly) kept switching the phone and water bottle between my hands.  After a while, I think the phone was in a pretty wet hand nonstop.  Shortly before I found the right street, a friend in Austin called, and I added to the phone’s water experience by holding it against my sweaty little face so we could talk. 

To say the phone didn’t like that would be a rather offensive understatement.  It actually hissed at me.  Then it started pushing its own 3 button over and over again.  Finally, it just gave up.  You can turn it on, and you can push buttons all you want, but nothing happens. 

So I went to a Sprint store today and bought the phone I’ve been eyeing for a month or so.  It’s pretty great, though I’m kind of cranky that I had to buy it after all—I had only recently decided to forego this purchase as there was nothing wrong with the old phone.  So it goes. 

In other news that makes me look silly, I accidentally put my fingers in my coffee this morning, thinking I was reaching into my slinky.  

In other news                               
 
I decided the half-marathon idea is a bad one.  I'm going to train for a triathlon instead.  Oh hey--there's one in Ann Arbor in June!  Hooray! 

 

Take it from me                              

Those who know me well know that I struggle often with the challenge of having hair that is neither straight nor curly.  Not even wavy.  I guess it’s mostly straight, but with horribly frizzy and somewhat bumpy tendencies.  A few years ago, a coworker gave me a bit of Biosilk to try—and it was awesome.  Sadly, a 6oz bottle retails for about $30, and that comes in direct conflict with my essentially cheap nature. 

Today, then, I am happy to recommend the “Generic” line of products at Sally Beauty Supply.  Their knockoff of Biosilk is $6 for 6oz, and it’s identical to the original.  No joke, go try it.  Not a Biosilk fan?  The Generic label (it’s actually called Generic, hence the capitalization) carries a squillion high-end knockoffs, and if the Biosilk is any indication they’re all pretty good substitutes. 

In addition to today’s positive recommendation, I would also like to make a recommendation against the $8 bottomless mimosas at Farrago’s brunch in Houston.  You have to drink a minimum of 5 to do more than break even (they’re $2 when purchased individually), and it’s surprisingly easy to do.  It sure sounded fun to get all squiffy at 11am, but I was hurting in a big way by 6:30.  Good lord.  However, that brings me to my final recommendation for the day…

When feeling hungover, especially when you keep making calls to Ralph on the big white phone, it’s important to get a little bit of grease in your stomach.  Sounds crazy, but it’s true.  The best vehicle for said grease is a pair of tacos from Jack in the Box.  Just down ‘em, it’ll be the best $1 you’ve spent in a long time. 

 

Good things                                  

Thanks to all for the kind words and thoughts for my mom.  Her surgery was Tuesday (exactly 2 months after the original date, weird) and everything went very well.  I spoke with her doctor that evening and he seemed very positive about the procedure.  She goes back to have it programmed in 5-6 weeks.  Nifty, nifty little device.

There’s only one more week of work left!  Technically, my last day isn’t until the 11th, because I decided to take my remaining vacation days rather than cash them out, but I’ll only pop in for a few hours that day.  That is by no means to say that I’m doing “real” work now…rather, I’m staying entertained and perpetuating the myth that I might be doing something productive by spending gratuitous amounts of time on the resurrected UCB.  As I write this, I’m about 15 posts away from the current post leader…which I’m not sure is an honor.  Ah well, that’s how it goes when you’re winding things down at work.  Especially on a Friday.  A slow Friday. 

 

Items of Non-interest

A few things that have punctuated the last 10 days or so:
1) Lizards don't belong in my bathroom.
2) Breakups are wretched, no matter how well everyone behaves.
3) Intense boredom has an uncanny way of amplifying one's tension and feelings of malcontent.
4) I really need to clean out both my fridge and my car.
5) I need school to start, like, now.

Coming soon: I'm going to go back to a more structured format for my posts, since the minutiae or my day-to-day stuff is neither fun to read nor fun to write. I'm going to try keeping the bulk of my posts to recommendations about stuff I like. I tend to have pretty solid product loyalty, but only after a lengthy trial period. People, on balance, seem pretty happy with things I recommend, so I thought it might make sense to put them all in one place.

That's the plan, anyway. We all know what happens to plans...

At Long Last

The insurance people finally caved and approved my mom's cochlear implant surgery. HOORAY!! It should take place sometime in the next few weeks. Thanks to all for the kind words and warm wishes.