The Great Equalizer

Ok, readers (if you're out there). The time has come; I can't lie to you (or cyberspace) anymore. So hear ye, hear ye, I have a confession to make:

I love bad weather. Especially when it involves frozen molecules of water drifting through the sky and accumulating on my fire escape and sending the entire city into a frenzy over yet another Snowpocalypse.

There, I said it. No more beating around the bush; no more sitting around with friends and coworkers, groaning, "Oh nooo, not AGAIN!" and "Is it spring yet?", when secretly I'm cackling to myself and doing that awkward finger-twiddle move under the table, although my stubby digits just don't do that move justice. (Sidenote: please tell me I am not the only one whose phalanges are vertically challenged. Having short, fat fingers has always made really important activities, like being an evil mastermind, slightly out of my reach. It has also caused more than one person to laugh at me while I give them "the cutest little finger in the world.")

But I digress.

I went to bed last night woefully disappointed. "They" had spent all week predicting this major, "might hit us and dump two feet or might miss us and give all those kids who stayed-up-too-late-playing-Lego-Harry-Potter-and -drinking-too-much-wine soda-instead-of-doing-housework homework major coronaries upon awakening" storm. Yet, when I finally turned in around 11, there was maaaybe an inch on the ground, the skies were clear and the squealing of the T had yet to be drowned out by the hum of snowplows. My hopes for yet another winter wonderland appeared to have been dashed at the dastardly hands of incompetent meteorologists. To be fair, I had suspected as much; they've correctly predicted the last five storms, so everyone knew they were due for a major mistake sooner or later... weatherpeople don't just go around predicting correct weather all the time; they'd lose their credibility and, at least in this state, probably be tried for witchcraft.

Imagine my delight when I woke up to this:

Awwww yeah; that's what I'm talkin' about! I didn't even have to get out of bed to see the damage; the glow coming through the blinds was enough to send the grin across my face. Well, that and waking up to this:

  

which is, of course, what I wake up to every morning. Best. Birthday Present. EVER. I've commissioned both the cowboy and police officer models from my best friend, as well as offered to front the capital needed to take these babies public. And no, I'm not dumb enough to be like that guy in The Social Network/ Facebook saga. Give me shares or give me death!

The reason I love snow and other various inclement weather so much actually has nothing to do with the potential to shirk my duties for a day and take a snow day. Or that it gives me a ready-made excuse to stay home in my jammies and watch Julie & Julia for the 300th time with no shame. It doesn't even have to do with the fact that I live across the street from a convenience store, a packie ("liquor store" to those of you outsiders) and a pizza joint, or that all three of these places will deliver for a very nominal fee (Get my pant legs wet and dirty? No thank you).

No, it has to do with something a little less selfish: the young people who take the extra 20 minutes to clear out their elderly neighbor's driveway, the "good mornings!", disgruntled sighs and eyerolls shared by complete strangers as they shovel off their cars, the camaraderie that exists on the subway as everyone waits for HOURS for the T to finally show up at the station, and everyone piles in like sardines and gives up the kind of personal space that would normally require a dinner invitation first. It's the feeling of going down to the local dive bar and finding it completely packed, with people sharing tables, wings and laughter with people they never would have spoken to before, but it's ok now, because there is snow, and what you do and what you wear don't matter, because everyone has bad hair, no makeup and wet socks. Snow is the great equalizer; it brings us all together with its major hassel-tude and annoyance and turns us all into better people.

Until, of course, it's all over, the magic has been lost, the white fluff has turned to brown puddles of slush and those same people you yucked it up with the night before are the ones who will smash your mirror for trying to park in "their" space. 

But, for now, it's a winter wonderland of white:

Cheers, everyone!

The Best-Laid Plans....

... seriously never work out. This was definitely one of those weekends where every single plan I had went straight out the window. As soon as the snow started to fall on Friday morning, I should have just cut my losses, crawled back under the blankets and slept straight through until this morning. Instead, I braved a snowy, icy commute, made it to work and instantly started wondering if I was on an episode of Candid Camera. Or maybe What Would You Do, with John Quinones. Seriously, NOTHING went right!
(And yes, I take full responsibility for that --- this isn't some justification rant. I deserved what I got!).

The plan: Hit the gym for a nice, relaxing elliptical workout on my lunch break Friday.
The reality: Lunch break? What lunch break? I somehow forgot that I have three deadlines this week and that I can barely escape from my desk long enough to fill up my water bottles, let alone work out.

The plan: Have a nice dinner date with the boyfriend, not worry about calories and only indulge in a glass or two of wine.
The reality: I should have known how this night was going to turn out as soon as DBF showed up with a six pack of Longtrail IPAs... when we only had 20 minutes until our reservation. 2 beers, 5 orders of tapas, 2 glasses of wine, a short walk home and 3 Harpoons later, I couldn't have cared less about calories... but man, was I PISSED when Voldemort kept taking me down in Lego Harry Potter.

The plan: Wake up Saturday morning, hit the gym for a nice 1.5m run and then spin class, so that I could enjoy the rest of my weekend without my training plan lingering in my head.
The reality: After finally being dragged out of bed kicking, screaming and clawing at my sheets, I proceeded to get myself ready for the gym and spin. Except then I realized it was 11:30. Spin starts at 9:20. Oops. When in doubt, just go for a $5 brewery tour. It works every time.

The plan: A nice, relaxed evening Saturday, hanging out and watching Season 2 of Lie to Me.
The reality: Tequila! College pals! Tearful reunions with estranged former roomie/best friend! Late night pizza binges! WOOOO!

The plan: Spend Sunday food shopping, making up for that run I skipped Saturday, concocting chicken soup, rooting HARD against the Jets, because J-E-T-S SUCK SUCK SUCK!
The reality: Dragging self out of bed at noon, exhausting all possible sources of Advil in the apartment, falling asleep to Ugly Betty on the TV Guide channel and being scared shitless waking up to The Mask, devolving into total and utter glee as Sexy Rexy threw his headset and secretly hoping he might try to eat it (not enough toes, so not interested).... cursing TB12 for last week's pitiful showing because really, the Pats would have OWNED the Steelers and instead I was forced to root for that aggressive chipmunk, Roethlisberger.

You get the point.

While I do regret the fact that I somehow morphed into a three-year-old version of myself (at one point, I literally told myself to, "man up... you're 23 years old." Definitely had my 26th birthday in October. Holy cats! I'm old!), I am pretty thrilled about the whole re-connecting with former friends, particularly because one of them was the friend I specifically mentioned in my 2011 goals. I saw her, apologized for how everything went down, she said it was a two-way street, we did the whole, "I misssseeeddd youuuu!!", tears ensued, lifetime catchup, lots of hugs and promises to hang out soon. So, despite the massive amount of salt currently coursing through my veins, I'll take that improvement over a few ounces on the scale any day.

There are more important things in life than numbers!

Kicking 2011's Ass, Part Deux

Sweaty spin socks be damned, I FOUND MY LIST OF GOALS! I suppose that's what I get for clinging to the antiquated method of physically writing out my list, as opposed to just typing it up and calling it a day. But really, who wants to debate the merits of Arial vs. Helvetica when you can actually put those three agonizing months that your fifth grade teacher spent trying to teach you to hold a pen correctly to good use? 

(Sidenote: I still don't hold my writing utensils the way "they" tell you to. Take that, Mrs. L!) 


Anywho... since I have finally found it (in the Coach tote my generous friend gave me, which I had forgotten I was using as a purse last week), here is the remainder of The List:

6) Get Into Grad School
    When I graduated four years ago with a B.A. in English, I had absolutely every intention of getting into the publishing industry, making a huge fortune as an Acquisitions Editor and retiring to my home on Martha's Vineyard by the time I was 40. Then the economy tanked, that sneaky temptress Kindle debuted and the entire industry found itself sinking into an abyss of epic proportions. Of course, they only wanted to hire those with previous experience, and apparently, "putting myself through college and working 30 hours a week while maintaining a 3.98 GPA in my major and 3.79 overall" doesn't exactly qualify. Fast forward a few years, and I've taken a workshop in Publishing that covers all sides and, frankly, I don't think it's for me. No, I have grander aspirations at this point, and no, they don't involve flipping burgers at McD's or hocking shoes at JCP. I'm getting my Masters in Health Communication if it kills me, so that I can focus on teen and tween self-image, and ain't no stupid math gonna stand in my way! GRE, HERE I COME!

7) Write More
   Pretty plain and simple, right? I used to write all the time -- essays, analysis, creative nonfiction, journals, etc. -- and I miss it. Sure, I write a lot for work, but grant applications, scientific manuscripts and letters of recommendations that I really only edit don't exactly get my heart pumping for more. I've made a dent in this one already just by updating this very blog more than I did ALL OF LAST YEAR, but if I don't make it into The New Yorker at some point, I think my Dad might cry. And no one wants to see that.


8) "Control My Reactions"
   In college, I went through a bad spell. A really bad, depressing, "I think I might quit school and I'm so anxious I can't handle the thought of leaving my dorm room to get food" spell. During that time, I sought help -- and have never once regretted it. Kellie at Health Services, wherever you are, you saved my life, simply by sitting in your chair and listening to me while I talked myself into and back out of the mess in my head. One of the key elements I took from my two years of twice-weekly sounding board sessions was my mantra: "I cannot control what happens, I can only control my reaction." In other words, I'm responsible for ME. Not my family, not my friends, not my neighbor's cousin's second wife's basset hound; ME. So, my goal is to stop worrying about stupid hypothetical outcomes of scenarios that might not ever happen and ease up on the perfectionism. It's life; I have to LIVE it!

9) Spread the Love
    No, I have not decided to pack up and join a group of polygamists, so get your minds out of the gutter. I have been pretty active in the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation ever since a very good and close friend's son was diagnosed a few years ago. I love the CFF, and I am determined to see the cure before it steals any more children's precious lives than it is already going to. With that, I am hoping to double my fundraising goal this year and *hopefully* run a larger race in the ugly blue checkered tank top. But, that's not enough. I want to find another charity that I can throw my weight behind and get more involved in that... because we all know, sharing is caring.

10) Push My Limits
    Out at a bar one night, after one or five margaritas, the friend of a friend I was sitting with went off on how awesome it is that I have so much self confidence and drive. I literally turned around to see who she was talking to. I'm really great at putting on an act; if the Oscar committee calls my name when they open the envelope one of these days, don't be surprised. Because those few people who truly know me know, I'm a complete and total neurotic, insecure and shy person. I HATE new things. I will go out of my way to avoid doing them if I don't force myself to. Case in point: I graduated as the outgoing Panhellenic Academics Chair who had created an entirely new mentoring platform for 800 sorority and fraternity members, the Chair of our sorority's massively successful and spectacular Greek God competition and a pretty well-known member of the Greek community. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but people would come up to me at parties and I'd have no clue who they were (and it had nothing to do with the Line of 99 pre-party). YET - The only reason I went through rush was at the advisement of a friend, my aunt and my therapist, because it would force me into awkward situations that I was completely uncomfortable with. Lately, I've noticed myself getting too comfortable -- so in 2011, I'm vowing to try one scary thing per month. And I'm bloggin' it here!


11) Be a Better (And New!) Friend and Family Member
    Sometime over the past few years, I've managed to completely re-work my definitions of friendship and family. I used to have a ton of "friends", people with whom I would go to the bar, act like I was still in college, let them talk down to me and make me feel insecure and ultimately end up loathing myself in the morning. They weren't friends; they were frenemies. I dumped a lot of them during a mass purge following a particularly horrible party, and I don't really regret it for a second. We've "patched things us" to the point of it not being a national disaster if we run into one another out, and I'm cool with that. In retrospect, though, I had to make some tough choices regarding friendship over doing what was best for me, and I really, truly miss some of those people and regret the way I handled things. I've also been totally neglecting my long-time pals, the ones I can go months (or full on YEARS in some cases) without talking to but are like sisters and brothers once we do catch back up -- it's like nothing missed a beat. In 2011, I'm making an effort to make memories, with old and new friends alike. "Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other's gold." Those Girl Scouts know their shit. I mean, have you ever TASTED a Thin Mint?!

Aaaaaand that's it. All 11, out there for the world to see. Mildly terrifying yet slightly exhilarating. Chalk that up to progress for #s 7 and 10. And with that, Caitie OUT!

PS- That reminds me.... American Idol? Just not the same without Simon, and did anyone really think Steven Tyler could pull off an entire episode, let alone season, without saying something totally creep-sauce to a 16 year old?  I mean, really now.

About Those Goals...

CURSES!

I seem to have misplaced my list of Why I Am Going to Kick 2011's Ass, thus the lack of that update.

So much for "update in a more timely and consistent fashion." Yikes.

I'm off to paw through my RIDICULOUSLY MASSIVE gym bag in the hopes of finding it all nice and crinkly lodged in an old Spin sock. If I don't return in the next month or so, please alert my parents and let them know that I went peacefully into the stinky and sweaty night.

I've Got Friends (in Low Places)

Your other 6 Goals are going to have to wait -- I need to post this one now.

Today is one of those days where it seems like fate, and friends, just intervene exactly when you need them to.

You see, I sometimes get private messages on the site I use for weight loss support from people asking for my "secret," how I manage to keep such a positive and healthy outlook on weight loss and dieting, how I am so secure in my own head that I don't let little things like weigh-ins, bad meals and whatnot get me down.

Guess what? There are no secrets -- these things *do* get to me, and probably more often than my little online support group cum family likes to think. The past week and a half or so, I've been totally consumed by guilt, negative self-image, fat talk and more. I've felt completely out of control and on the verge of a total mental breakdown. Usually, these feelings ebb and flow off and on, influenced by the seasons, the weather and, of course, what my good friend Katie and I have come to call, "Girl Time." This time, though, the negativity just doesn't seem to want to budge...and the last time I remember feeling like this for so long, it was right in the midst of my calorie-counting, disordered mania.

That, of course, led me to my foray into Intuitive Eating, which wasn't something I was completely mentally ready to handle -- I have an issue with follow-through, (what, you mean you couldn't tell based on the half-finished 2011 Goal post cliffhanger?!) and once my weight started climbing as I rediscovered all the foods I hadn't allowed myself to eat, I didn't want to stop. I didn't want to progress to the third phase of IE; rather, I wanted to do the mental aspect of dissecting my actions, without doing the physical aspect of channeling those urges elsewhere. That's partly WHY I set out to make goals for this year -- on paper, on screen, in email, on post-its -- I can't escape those goals, and I want to accomplish them! But, I have to remember to cut myself some slack. I can't do everything, for everyone, all of the time. I can't even do everything for ME all at one time!

And then...

Two fantastic guys from the site, Augie and Sarge, both posted about how important it is to stay the course, even when you think you're treading water. They've both had monumental losses, challenges and struggles in their day-to-day new lifestyles, but they have come through their obstacles with fresh outlooks and dedication to bettering themselves. Today, they wrote the posts that I feel like I usually write, the ones full of encouragement and kind words, strategies and tales of self-love. And somehow, they wrote them on a day that I really, really needed to hear it.

Funny how that all works, isn't it?

So, to all of my friends, both the flesh kind and the cyber kind, thanks for always being there to pick me up.

And with that, I shall step AWAY from the Cheez-its and drag my ass to yoga ;)

Eleven in 2011! Or, "How I Plan to Kick This Year's Ass"

Needless to say, I've taken a little while off from blogging. I had friends to see, things to do, bagels to eat and wine to drink. Lots and lots of wine to drink. C'est la vie. I'm not perfect; if I were, I wouldn't need to make a list of 11 goals I hope to work towards in 2011. And without further ado...


1) Achieve Fiscal Responsibility and Financial Stability
  HA! You thought I'd write something about weight loss or fitness or, you know, actually blogging here, didn't you?! Sorry, but despite three and a half years in the workforce, I'm still on the edge of "Dirt Poor Chic." I have a few tricks up my sleeves to achieve this one, though. The terms "403(b)," "paid in full," "10% of monthly gross income" and "safety net account" all come to mind. Of course, I'll be hiding in the corner eating Ramen for a year while Andrew tries to kill me for yanking us from our place of comfortable spending and plunging us into the land of chosen poverty. He'll thank me later!

2) Travel More
   I've always had wanderlust. (Side Note: Please tell me I'm not the only person who still giggles like a 13-year old boy while using this word.) I've also never done anything about it. To date, I have ventured to FL, Washington, DC, Montreal, Jamaica, Corpus Christi, TX, Maine, Burlington, VT, NJ and it's infamous Shore and, for day trips, NYC. That's it. I have yet to drink smashed grapes on the West Coast, experience a revival in Middle America, use the term "ya'll" in the American South, enjoy tea and crumpets with the Queen, eat a baguette at an authentic bistro, go all "Lady and the Tramp" on a spaghetti string, kiss the Blarney Stone or pose in front of the Parthenon. I'm 26 FREAKIN' years old, and have never really gone anywhere. I'mma be changing that UP in 2011, yo. On the docket: NYC for Andrew's Christmas present and Austin, TX for his former roommate's wedding. After that, the world is my lobster (because really? Oysters are gross).

3) Run a Half Marathon
   You totally knew it was coming. Or maybe not, since I prefer to go all MIA on Caitie's World every now and then (See: Resolution #7). I'm running a half marathon, biatch! Or, um... I plan to. Hope to? Am vaguely considering? See how I did that there? ENOUGH ALREADY. I AM running a half this year. Now that I got my Jolly Jaunt out of the way (#976th place, boo-ya! Sarcasm abounds), I'm ready to take on bigger feats. Starting, of course, with a couple 5 milers with guaranteed adult sodas at the end. Because really, who WON'T run for beer? Nuns, that's who. And I am certainly not a nun.

4) Get My Blood Pressure Back to Normal
   The whole "blood squirting out of my eye sockets" look is so 2010. Plus, this way I can vow to lose weight without anyone telling me I'm becoming anorexic after I decide I'd rather have some baked curry sweet potato fries than a mountain of deep-fried lard with a side of buttah. And, you know, cutting back on those adult sodas a bit without seeming like I'm losing my identity. Or my left foot.

5) Eat More Mindfully
   Seriously? I'm sick of people rushing me through my dining experiences and analyzing whatever I eat to the point that I just shovel as much crap into my body as I possibly can in the hopes that they will go away and find something more interesting to study... like, I dunno, cancer. Plus, eating in front of screens with containers of BPA can't be doing anything to HELP my cause up there on #4.

Ok, that's a little less than the first half. Updates tomorrow with the final six goals of 2011. (Is the suspense killing you yet?)