Hit the Road, Jack

I would love to just pack up a truck, take a long weekend and drive out into some mountaintops nearby but just far enough away to feel like my own little world. I would make sure to grab plenty to eat, a toothbrush, and my sneakers. Anything more than that would need to be negotiated or put back on the shelf.

I would want to hike up the mountain---Whichever mountain that may be---and come to a spot where you can see the beautiful colors of Fall, how the world can just go on and on and the effortless way we all work together in seamless and never-ending harmony.

Yes, we all have our moments. But the world buzzes with continuity. I've seen it before in a small, everyday kind of scale.

I would hike and go for walks and jogs around some lake on this unknown mountain morning, noon and night. I wouldn't mind fishing, but I would need someone to teach me. Hunting? I don't know if I could get to that point, but I wouldn't mind shooting some guns at a target.

I've actually never fished before, which is hard to believe, considering I am from Central PA. Central PA schools have In-Service Days at the beginning of any hunting/fishing/outdoorsy opening day.

I'd like to figure out how to make coffee without electricity. That would be interesting.

I'd like to make dinner over a fire. Very interesting.

'Smores every night! Heavenly.

How long would I be there? I don't know. Where do I plan to go? I don't know. When am I planning this trip? I don't know.

That is the point.

I am awake at 1am on a Monday night. I have a 14-hour work and school day tomorrow that starts in less than six hours. My mind is racing, and I would love nothing more than to pack up a truck and drive to some mountain, for some amount of time.

Delirious, much? I might need some Benadryl.

Does Your Breakfast Make You Amazing?

I was watching a commercial yesterday morning as I was getting ready for work. I was watching the news and drinking my morning coffee. I also made oatmeal for breakfast, and I always swirl peanut butter in my oatmeal and let it melt. First off, it's delish. I like how it tastes, and I am all for the extra protein and a little healthy fat.

Yes, healthy fat.

The commercial was for Quaker Oatmeal, so I was totally relating to the commercial from the beginning. Talking about making healthy choices in the morning and throughout the day is something of normalcy today for adults. For children, we want their breakfast to fuel them for the tough day at school with bullies and long division. So, naturally, oatmeal that makes you "amazing" and a superhero would appeal to a kid in a different way than sugary cereals with superhero cartoons. This commercial is meant to appeal to children, but it really made me think.

Low-carb. Low-fat. Low-calorie. Low-sodium.

Sugar-free. Fat-free.

Whole wheat. Antioxidants. Organic.

In diet fads-past, diets were all about excluding and banning whole food groups or types of foods or nutrients altogether. Today, it's all about what you're putting in your body. I think a healthy diet should marry the two ideas together.

Let me explain.

So, there is definitely something to be said for eating salmon, soy milk, blueberries and artichokes. There is also definitely something to be said for not eating Ho-Ho's, Haagen-Dazs, Cheetos and Mountain Dew. The evidence is there. If you eat the good things, and don't eat the bad things, your health will be better than if you did the opposite.

Duh.

However, there is definitely something wrong with the mentality of cutting things out and only eating certain foods. That messes with the mind and the diet is difficult to stick to, live with, and continue.

I remember when "Skinny Bitch" came to bookstores. A few of my friends love the book, and still, to this day, live by the book. That's awesome! But, my biggest problem with this book (And, I do have a lot of problems with this book!) is that it discriminates and yells at you in a way that doesn't encourage a lifestyle, although that is the authors' intention. By being edgy and trendy, this book goes about dieting in the wrong way.

Milk is not the enemy.

Meat is not the enemy.

Sugar is not the enemy.

The way we think of these hands-off foods is in jeopardy, and that is the enemy.

Think about it.

If we are drinking a glass of skim milk, we ARE NOT drinking Mountain Dew. If we are eating a grilled chicken breast, we ARE NOT eating Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. If we are treating ourselves to a (serving size-appropriate) cup of ice cream at the end of a long week, we ARE NOT binging on an entire birthday cake after a month of restrictive dieting.

Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, South Beach and other diet programs all serve their purposes. They provide a framework and plan for those who would otherwise not stick to a diet. However, when it comes to a lifestyle of healthy eating, it shouldn't be about what we are eating or what we are not eating. Instead, it should be about the choices we make about the food we eat throughout our day. These choices include what we choose to eat in place of what we would eat otherwise.

OK, I am off of my soap box.

But, next time you think about going on some new diet, hoping that "THIS IS THE ANSWER" to all of your weight issues, I'd like you to ask yourself this question every time you are about to eat:

"Does my breakfast/lunch/dinner/snack make me AMAZING?"

My 4th Year Anniversary

It's true. My current relationship is officially my longest relationship.

As of August 26, 2010, I have had a serious relationship with the city of Pittsburgh. I moved to the 'Burgh on August 26, 2006, as an incoming freshman print journalism student at Point Park University. I had a pixie-style hair cut with black low lights and a new nose ring. A lot has changed, and I have been thinking about these changes more and more over the last month.

Since I moved to Pittsburgh, these things have changed:

- My hair is halfway down my back, curly and back to my natural red color.
- I am graduating from Point Park University with a B.S. in Business Management.
- I have no nose ring, nor a scar from my former piercing.
- I am now a size 0/2, and when I moved here I was a size 12.
- I got a breast reduction, equal to 3-5 pounds removed.
- I am now the EE/In-store Trainer at Sephora Shadyside, and when I moved to Pittsburgh I had never been to or heard of a Sephora.
- I am single, but in a very healthy dating relationship at the moment. 'Just dating' wasn't a concept I understood in 2006.
- I have so many new and unique friends! I can't imagine my life without you guys!
- I have grown very close to my grandparents since moving here, and I am so thankful for every moment I spend with them.

There are many more changes I have made, and this list could go on for hours. If you're really curious, you can ask me in person. But, overall, I have become more aware of myself and my own actions in the world around me. I am more aware of my attitude and my actions, as well as more aware of the impact I can have either positive or negative with the people I encounter. I have overcome a lot of heartbreak and financial hardships, but I have learned so much about myself and how strong I really am. I am a fighter, and I never thought of myself like that with complete certainty. The world can throw its worst at me, and I feel totally prepared to take it down brick-by-brick. I look at my apartment, my education, my career and friends, and I am so proud of everything I have created. I am completely responsible for everything I have done here. And, I am so proud of it all.

These 4 years have been the most important in my life to date. I can't wait to see what the next 4 years and beyond have in store for me. Pittsburgh, you have taught me a lot and will always be in my heart. Thank you for your hospitality.

So, does anyone else have a sappy love for Pittsburgh? Or, maybe you just have something you'd like to share that has changed in your life over the last few years, or even since yesterday? Let me know! I'd love to hear from you.

To celebrate my 4 years in Pittsburgh, upon the visit of my cousins from California, I had my very first Primanti Bros. sandwich. I am officially a Pittsburgher, I think.

It's Been A Long Time Comin'

Hola folks!

I know it's been a long time since we last had a chat. Some of you have pointed this out to me on a few occasions, and I am finally hear to respond to your requests! Yes, I am here to write a blog today.

Get excited!

So, what exactly have I been up to the last month-and-a-half you ask?

Good question. I have a long answer. So hold onto your hats!

OK, so I had an icky breakup right before I wrote my last post. That wasn't too fun, but I'm definitely not dwelling on it. Luckily for me, Sephora sent me to Sephora University and Corporate Headquarters in San Francisco the nine days following the breakup.

And, it was AHH-MAZING!!!

In true Emily-style, I took the shitty cards I was dealt in my life and made them the fuel for my success. Train the Trainer July 2010 in San Francisco was a wonderful, life-changing experience that I am still incredibly grateful for and will always remember. I learned so much, not just about training, coaching and managing staff, but also about myself. I learned that what I do as a 22-year-old almost-college graduate is not what all 22-year-old almost-college graduates do. I do amazing things every single day. Anything I have accomplished in my life is attributed to myself and the people around me. I am truly blessed, and I have many more exciting things to come down the road.

So, in San Francisco, I met great people. I ate the best food of my life to date. I wore some fierce suits and a really slick ponytail. And, I officially became a traveling businesswoman.

Whoo hoo!

When I came home, however, there was little time to be excited. I had to give (yet another) presentation for my macroeconomics class just two days after getting back on the East Coast. I turned in my final paper and took my final exam also.

Done.

When that was done, I realized I was three weeks away from school starting again. I only had to work! I was excited. I was beyond jazzed. I couldn't stand my excitement.

Then I got sick.

The last two-and-a-half weeks have been spent either on the couch, in the doctor's office, or at work in pain. I suffered from a bladder infection that was restricting the blood flow and oxygen to my kidneys. I still have not heard all of the details of my infection, but it was painful and very scary. There were a few nights I wasn't sure if I would be okay. Lots of pressure, nausea, pain, and medication. I was popping pills every four hours and on antibiotics for about two weeks. I feel much better now, but I haven't had this much discomfort in my life, aside from my breast reduction last summer.

Summers seem to be good luck for me.

Anyhow, my doctor saw me for two hours the day we decided this infection was more than what we originally thought. Kidney stones, cystitis of the bladder, infection, anatomically irregular. These are all good terms to throw at an otherwise-healthy 22-year-old woman. Needless to say, I have not been myself and I have not been feeling well at all since I returned from the West Coast. I am feeling much better now. I do not need any painkillers or antibiotics anymore, and I have been eating more every day.

I have my follow-up appointment with my doctor on Friday. I am extremely curious.

This brings us to this week. This week has been terrible and wonderful at the same time and in very different ways. I have had a pool of downright nasty clients this week. Nasty, rude, condescending, ungrateful and mean.

All of the above.

That's enough to dampen any good feelings toward the day. I've also had a few bumps this week in attempts to get ready for school starting this Saturday. My air conditioner has leaked all over my wall and it is starting to mold. HH Properties does not seem too concerned by this fact. I swear I will flip a lid if they try and charge me when I move out in December for the water damage to the wall.

I have called them three times about this situation in the last few months.

But, a few good things have made me stop and smile this week. Bekah is back from Costa Rica, so I get to see her soon and catch up on her travels. My cousins are coming to visit from California tomorrow. Even if it's just for the night, it will be a nice end to an eventful and tough Summer. I have also had a few successes at work recently and in my love life. No further details until otherwise indicated, folks. I have learned my lessons about blogging while dating the hard way!

OK, so school starts on Saturday morning. Yes, Saturday morning. I have four classes this semester, and then I will be a college graduate! I have to be in class four days a week while maintaining a full workload, but I will keep you all informed and up-to-date as best I can during this semester.

I am more than 100% positive that I will have plenty of not-so perfect life experiences in my last semester, so please stay tuned!

Oh, and I can't wait until my first pumpkin spice latte of the new season. Just giddy.

Loud And Clear

I've never had a blog before, so I am still learning the censorship of it all. I'm still learning what I can write and what I can get away with as a blogger. I've already made a huge mistake on here. But, the lesson has been clearly and quickly learned. I apologize for any ill emotions caused by anything I have said on here thus far.

I aim to be a writer in some professional capacity in my career. This was a valuable lesson to learn, and I can only go from here. I just wish it wasn't such a hurtful and frustrating process.

But, then again, when has anything you've wanted badly been easy to get?

I remember when I was seven years old, wanting an American Girl doll so badly. Starting in the summer that year, my mom gave me an empty coffee tin of her International Delights amaretto coffee to save my money in until Christmas. I had the option to save all or part of my allowance each week. I also had the option to do more chores to earn more money.

This was my first checking account, in a sense. Or, maybe it was a savings account. I think that was the intention of my mom, but I did withdraw from the tin every once in a while. You know, if there was a new candy at Gardner's Candies, or a new collection of POGs at Wal-Mart. It depended on my mood each week. Candy and POGs were equally awesome at that point in my life.

Either way, at the end of the year, whether I got my American Girl doll or not was up to me, and only me. I was motivated by this challenge and the sense of responsibility. I loved that coffee tin. I loved pay day. I love seeing money grow and make things happen.

Being a business major, I guess not much has changed.

So, I worked really hard in that five month period. I dusted the house so many times. I cleaned the bathroom. I made my bed every day. I kept the floor in my room pretty clear most days. I set the table for dinner. It was a process, a daily process, but I didn't mind it for the most part.

I liked the challenge.

And, sure enough, Christmas morning came on December 25th, as it does every year. And, although I knew I had given my all, there was still a bit of doubt in the back of my mind, making me think my American Girl doll was not under the Christmas tree that morning.

She was, though, and she was beautiful. I loved to change her clothes and play with her hair every day. I named her Lindsey. She was so cool.

I learned a lot that year. I learned about money and the value of a dollar. I learned about working hard and working toward a goal. I learned that I like a challenge and I handle responsibility very well, even at a young age. And, today, 15 years later, I see that everything requires hard work, responsibility, and the drive to meet the challenge. It doesn't come easy, whatever it is you are aiming to get.

I gave this a strong effort, and I still have questions. I feel a bit cheated and used. But, I'm okay. I've learned a lot here. But, I also am reminded that everything is a process. I need to realize that not everybody realizes this hard, true fact.

Not everyone is fortunate enough to have had a fantastic mother, with an International Delights amaretto coffee tin to encourage a work ethic and a self-disciplining conscience.

Nope.

And now, today, I need to learn how to deal with that part of the population that have not learned these valuable lessons yet.

It sucks.

Hiccups Are Embarassing

So, I live in Friendship and work in Shadyside. It would be ridiculous to drive to and from work everyday, especially since parking on Walnut Street is horrendous and impossible. I would probably drive two minutes, park, and walk another half-dozen blocks to work.

Oh, and I don't have a car.

Needless to say, I walk to work everyday. Rain or shine. And it is mostly a good thing. The days that are really hot or really cold, or raining really hard, I really don't enjoy walking to work. But, for the most part, it keeps my legs fit. So I am happy about that.

A few days ago, I was on my way to work for an afternoon shift. I had already gone for a run and then successfully finished 6 cups of coffee, at this point.

Unfortunately for me, and this has haunted me since birth, when my stomach is too full of air, it really can't come out in one, exclamatory burp. For me, even when my mom burped me, I would start to hiccup. These hiccups can last and recur throughout the course of an entire day. I could hiccup initially for about 10 minutes, be fine, and then two hours later start hiccuping again.

How annoying, right?

Well, this day, because of the running and the coffee and the walking rather fast, I had hiccups off and on the entire morning. And my walk to work was no exception. I am so used to this hiccuping disease by now, I can control them and usually stop them fairly easily.

Today, my hiccups were winning.

So, I am walking across the East Busway on South Negley Avenue after six blocks of tiny, manageable hiccups. At the light, I stop and let out this HUGE hiccup.

I think I jumped.

And, luckily, no one heard it---Or, so I thought.

As I begin across the crosswalk, a mid-40's blonde woman with sunglasses, a business skirt suit on, tights, and white Nike sneakers starts coming across the crosswalk from the other side. As we walk by each other and get closer, she just smiles and turns her head downward, tilting slightly to the side.

"Aww, it's okay dear."

She seemed to feel sorry for me.

I was mortified!

It was one of those expressions that makes you want to crawl underneath your bed with a stuffed animal and cry. I reminded me of a thunderstorm with my little sister when we were seven and three.

You would think horrifying me with this expression would scare the hiccups out of my system, or so the old wives' tale would say.

Nope.

I had hiccups the rest of the day.

Just try putting mascara and liquid eyeliner on a woman six inches taller than you, while standing up with chronic hiccups.

I Am A Horrible Writer

It's been five---technically, six---days since my last blog.

I officially have a boyfriend.

I am going to San Francisco with Sephora to try out to be a trainer.

And as of 19 minutes ago, my baby sister is 19 years old. She also moved in with her fiance this week to their new apartment.

Yet, I have no desire to write about any of this. I have no strength or brain to put to any one of these events or any stories from the last five days.

I am far from speechless, but I have absolutely nothing to write.

I am a horrible writer.

Slicing Red Onions Made Me Cry And Then I Rubbed Them With My Fingers

I am a genius.

Tonight after work, I made panzanella for the 4th of July picnic tomorrow night. It's a delicious traditional Italian bread salad, and it is so easy to make. I made my own version, though. I combined bread, tomatoes, red onion, hot banana pepper rings, green and kalamata olives, garlic, EVOO and balsamic vinegar in a bowl. It's marinating over night in the refrigerator. Yum-o!

Unfortunately for me, though. I was slicing the red onion and my eyes really started to sting and water. That typically doesn't happen for me when I slice onion, so I guess this one was particularly pungent. Luckily, Bekah loves onion. If she could eat onions like apples, she would, if it weren't for all of the strange stares she would get. And Ted still kisses me with garlic breath, so taste is not an issue at this point. I am just extremely emotional at this point...Or, so it may seem.

So, instead of washing my hands and rubbing my eyes like a sensible girl should, I just dug my fingers into my eye sockets and filled them with onion residue.

Delish.

I'm still teary-eyed and so full of regret.

Happy 4th of July to you all! Enjoy your family and friends, and please be safe!

I Skipped Blogging For A Week

Yup.

I haven't had a new post here since Monday. I only started this blog a little over two weeks ago, and I am already tapering off at the ends.

To be honest, I've met a new boy.

But, a few things have been set on the back burner.

As you can see, I haven't been blogging all week. This is unfortunate both for you and for me. I love writing here. I can let go of my thoughts and release without inhibition. I also haven't been doing my ab routine every night. I have done an ab routine every night since April. Four times this week isn't bad, but it still isn't seven times.

I can feel the flab, spilling over my pants.

I have, however, kept up with my running. I also have been cleaning a lot more! And I've discovered a bunch of new things about myself.

I can definitely cook. I can even experiment in the kitchen, and the finished meal always surprises me.

I can be very understanding. I can also be laid back, but still feel like I am in control of myself and my own actions. I don't have to be the perfectionist I always have known myself to be. I can be in control of my own emotions and actions, and still be laid back.

I smile a lot, and always have. But this is a different kind of smile.

This is how I've always wanted to be.

And now I know that I am who I've always wanted to be.

Money Sucks

I skipped a day on here. I am so sorry, folks. I hope you didn't miss me too much.

I get pissed very rarely. If I do, it is one of a few things that fundamentally just eat me up inside. Today, it happens to be companies that seem to misplace any record or piece of paper that regards Emily Harnett and her finances. I worked in medical records for a doctor's office of over 40 physicians and over 30,000 patients. I know that organization can be difficult and almost tedious, but seriously people, it is your job to keep paper you receive in the right place. If you hate your job, there is something else that needs to be addressed aside from the paperwork.

I have gotten letters and e-mails from the Office of Financial Aid at my school, Point Park University, almost every week since the end of the Spring semester in April. Each form of correspondence indicates that my signed W-2 and Federal Tax Return from 2009 have not been received. And each time I receive a letter, I call them and tell them I came to the office and handed a counselor a new signed copy of each of these forms. I print them in the computer lab above the office and bring them down, hot off the press.

Today, two weeks after the last misfiling of my financial forms, I got an e-mail stating that my signed W-2 and Federal Tax Return from 2009 had not been received.

Come on, guys! Let's get your junk together!

After being put on hold twice for a total of about five minutes with two different financial aid counselors, they found both signed forms.

A-ha!

Hopefully, that is the end of that.

On a whole other note, with my bank, I am so impatient for my monthly bills to be posted to my account. Some of these payments were paid a week ago and still haven't posted. I am getting really irritated. I know that I don't have any money to spend until my next paycheck, but the fact that my bank statement says I have all this money in my account, despite the money being used for bills, it is just a tease.

I hate teases.

Actually, I take that back. I can be quite the tease. Tinkerbell and I are soul mates.

But, in the case of teasing me with money, I hate teases. It isn't fair. You'd think electronic payments would be a little faster than mailing a check, here in the 21st century. But, I guess you would be wrong thinking that way.

I guess what I am trying to do with today's entry is to rant and rave about money. Why have we become so controlled by money, today? Why does money intrigue such deep emotion, controversy, and power? We feel strapped if we have much and strapped if we do not. Nothing else on this earth has this kind of power over a person, emotionally and physically. And if we can name something with that kind of persuasion, it somehow traces back to money in some way.

Am I correct?

Let me know your thoughts, if you can. I'd love to hear them.

An 88 Year Old Woman Made Me Cry

I had a short day at work today. I was only scheduled from 2:30 until close, so I spent the morning reading and watching some new episodes on the Food Network. Yes, just like last night's post said I would.

So, my day began as normal as it possibly could. I would have liked to wake up earlier and go for a run, but I stayed up until almost 2am, reading my book. I slept in pretty late. If any of you are wondering if Steig Larsson's trilogy at the top of the NY Times Bestseller list are fluff and hype, just know that they are fantastic. I haven't been this captivated by a story line in so long. It is very refreshing. I read every word, just so that I don't miss anything. I tried to take it to work for my lunch breaks, but it just destroys the story. I need to be completely focused on the story to really experience it.

But, today I had a 15 minute break. I didn't have to pout as I left the book at home. I left a little early for work, as I usually do. I remembered my sunscreen and my protein bar for lunch. I forgot a hair tie, but I braved the humidity without it.

I got outside and there was a yard sale in my neighbors' front yard. Mostly junk. But, hey, there is definitely something to be said for a good, solid effort.

I started walking up my street, South Negley Avenue, and saw an elderly woman standing at the bus stop and a younger woman sitting on the steps near the bus stop. I was about 50 feet away from her and she suddenly gasped and grabbed for the tree nearby. She collapsed and fell into the street, as cars continued to drive by her side. She didn't move at first, so I ran over to her and tried to direct the cars into a single lane. They were driving far too close to her for comfort. It made me so angry.

I dialed 911.

She was a black woman, but her legs were covered in white spots. She fallen hard on her side, and her arm was bright red. Her skin was hot to the touch.

A few people stopped by and said they would get some water and fan her. They brought a pillow. We had a nice group of people to help. I stayed on the phone with dispatch. Apparently, I am very calm and authoritative in an emergency situation.

"Have you ever had a heart attack or angina?"

"I'm sorry, she won't answer the question. She is burning up. Can you please send help now?"

They were probably checking to make sure the trip would be worth their while.

She finally gained enough strength to sit up on the curb. The pavement was so hot, and I felt that was the best thing for her. The water came, but she wasn't permitted to drink it. I had Nina put some of the cold water on her arms and legs to try and bring her temperature down a bit. The dispatch told me that she couldn't eat or drink, just to cut down the potential of her getting sicker until the ambulance arrived.

Understood.

She eventually started to talk. I called work to let them know I might be a little bit late. And the ambulance seemed to be taking its grand ole time, driving up the street. Richard called and emphasized to the dispatcher that we needed the ambulance to step on the gas.

It worked.

The ambulance came, much to her dismay, and they checked her vitals and lifted her into the ambulance. She originally didn't want me to call 911, but I insisted she at least get a checkup before she went home to lie down for the afternoon. I guessed she was about 60 when I described her to the dispatcher.

She was 88 years old.

Her neighbor came over and said she would stay with her whether she went to the hospital or back to her apartment across the street. She didn't want my phone number, so I made sure that everything was okay with the EMTs and continued my walk to work.

It must have been the adrenaline rush of the whole experience, but as I walked to Shadyside, I felt a huge wave of anxiety and distress. I didn't like leaving her. I didn't like even more the fact that she was 88 years old, living alone in Pittsburgh, and waiting for the bus in the summer to go to Giant Eagle.

This 88 year old woman made me cry.

I actually never got her name, because she wasn't willing to share that information when I was checking her vitals. She made such an impact on my day---And I think I will always remember this incident---yet, I would never see her again and I didn't even know her name. Usually, when you do the right thing, you often feel very good about yourself.

I felt terrible.

I felt like there was something more I could have done for her. I was really hoping that I would give her my number, she would call me someday, and I could help her carry her groceries to her apartment. Something!

But, now as I see the situation from afar, I can see that those events would only bring benefit to my own intentions. The good deed should be about the person in need. She needed help, and I helped her. She didn't really know me, and I really didn't know her. And those facts still remain. It was just a minute in our lives, but it makes me certain that the best moments in your life are the ones that you can do the right thing and walk away without lingering or wondering.

As I got closer to Walnut Street, a man stopped his car in the middle of the road and asked me for directions to a place I did not know.

I suppose at this point, I have a huge neon sign on my head that reads "Please, ask for my help."

I learned a lot of about myself today. I learned a lot about other people, too. It was nice to see strangers band together to help someone else. It was horrible to see other people drive in the shoulder of the street, while a woman is lying down in obvious trouble.

There are good and bad apples everywhere. I hear the bad, ugly apples are used to make apple cider and get squashed in the end. I would like to know if that's a metaphor from beyond our universe.

Home Alone On A Friday Night

Totally, man.

I got out of work early, and I don't have to work until 2:30 tomorrow afternoon. And, I am home alone. I am so okay with this, it is beyond perplexing. I am 22 years old. Home alone on a Friday night.

No plans.

Why am I okay with this, you ask? First of all, I enjoy quiet nights at home. I always have. I have never really been the partying type. I don't even really enjoy night clubs, unless the mood strikes me. When the weekend comes, I don't have three nights of bar hopping lined-up, followed by a Sunday of black coffee and Advil.

Nope.

I typically relax on the weekends. I see my friends when our schedules align. I like to walk around town and peruse Borders on Sunday nights. I go for longer runs on Saturday evenings. I take the time to make myself a hot breakfast, no matter the temperature outside. I savor my morning coffee, and sometimes catch some new episodes of my favorite Food Network shows on Saturdays. I catch up on my reading, bills, shopping and cleaning. I sleep in, if I can. I go to bed earliest on the weekends, as a matter of fact. If I had a car, "Riding slow on Sunday morning, I never wanna leave" would describe my life perfectly, as if Maroon 5 had never sung those words.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not anti-social, by any means. I love people. My job revolves around my ability to love on people I don't know. But, that can be taxing and exhausting. I really need to recharge when I am home. But, it doesn't take the same energy to hang out with my friends as it does to work---That is not what I am saying. But, I will say the constant stimulation of being available to talk and communicate with enthusiasm and sincerity does encourage a chill and go-with-the-flow kind of person, such as myself, to take a step back on the weekends and smell the roses, if you will.

I have been awake most of the night, tossing and turning. I officially woke up at 4:55 AM to make oatmeal for a cute boy and kiss him goodbye before he went to work. I was running about 2 to 3 miles around the East End at 6:32 AM. I was at work until just after 6 PM, and I just spent the good part of my evening washing dishes from the roast chicken and potatoes I made last night for dinner.

I am a fun girl. But when it comes to this Friday night, I am so boring.

I think I may finish my evening with a chick flick, featuring Jennifer Aniston and some herbal tea.

My 23rd birthday is coming up in September. I may need someone to invest in a nice pair of bifocals and a cane. Any takers?

Question to ponder on your Friday night: What is your most boring habit?

Girls Can Be Real Sissies

Ladies, have you ever just cried for no reason? Or, maybe you cried for a lot of reasons, but it came up out of the blue? Has anyone else been here?

I firmly believe that a sign of good emotional health is the ability to cry regularly. This may be just because I cry at least once a month, if not more. If I go close to an entire month without crying, that 30th day rolls around and it's another day at the water park for me. Kleenex should be grateful to have such a reliable, clockwork-type customer every month.

Seriously, I cry like a total sissy.

I mean, as women, we have a lot going on at once. We have a basket for a brain. Everything is intertwined and woven around each strand twice and back again. Men, on the other hand, have compartmentalized filing systems for brains, generally. If a woman smells chocolate chip cookies one day, she might remember her mother baking them years ago and burst into tears. If a man smells chocolate chip cookies one day, he might take one as an impulse snack and one for the road. He would have to go to his "mom" filing cabinet to conjure up tears in remembrance of his mother. He would also have to file back his cookie file first. Whereas, a woman can associate anything to anything and just fall to pieces.

At least that's just how I feel. Sometimes I just feel too much. It's quite okay, actually. I've come to terms with this fact and coin it as my own internal mantra.

So, OK. I know what you're thinking.

"So what? She cries. Everyone does."

Yep. You've nailed it. But, tonight, I've experienced something familiar but all-together brand new at the same time. I don't know exactly how to describe it, or how to react.

Let me try this again.

There was a friend of mine once---a friend I no longer talk to---who, to this day, was the most selfish person I had ever known personally. DEEE-vah! But, at the same time, she acted as though she were Mother Theresa reincarnate. She'd leave moldy food in our shared bedroom for weeks, go days without showering or leaving her bed for class, and even camp-out on the common area's sofa for a month at a time. She would actually yell if we were talking in the common area!

Yes, I realize there are many friends of the past like this.

Also, yes, I am somewhat of a neat-freak. But, if my space was organized and the room as a whole was hygienic at least, I didn't say a word.

Continuing...

One night, I was studying in bed after midnight and the other roommates had gone to their own room on the other side of the suite. Out of nowhere, she just threw everything she had in her hands to the floor in a huge THUD and walked over to my bed. Her body trembling, and her face was reddening by the second.

Every bad word in the book. No exceptions. She yelled about my inconsideration, selfishness, overall integrity as a person. I mean, she was really hammering below the belt here. I couldn't believe it. I was blown away, but at the same time, so serene.

Long story short, I was calm, cool and collected. I did not cry. I did not raise my voice. I did not even respond to any of her accusations in my defense.

Nope. I just stayed in my bed with my philosophy text book in my lap.

I knew exactly where I stood in the relationship. I knew exactly how I felt. I knew how others viewed the situation. And I knew that I was completely in control of my reaction.

Today is different.

Now, I don't have an irate roommate projecting her inadequacies on my own behavior. I don't even have anyone telling me anything bad. Today was actually a very nice day. But, at the same time, I can't help but be overwhelmed by a feeling of:

"Oh shit, what am I doing here?"

I feel as though I have no control over how I feel today. I like to be in control. I like to be completely a-OK with everything, with a solid handshake and a wink. I like to just roll gritty things off my shoulders and "Suck it up, kid." And, today I can't find that in my power. I can't bring that to the surface. I can't be a superhero at the end of the day.

I am being such a sissy tonight.

Yes, I cried. I don't know if it's been 30 days, but it sure was needed and totally unrelated to my craving for chocolate chip cookies.

So, I am feeling pretty stupid. Who's been here? I'd love some thoughts.

I Forgot My Pants

Yes, the title is true.

I had this grand plan to have an intense cardio workout at the rec center before my four hour macroeconomics class today. First, it is currently in the mid-80s and humid and it is 11:01 PM. Needless to say, running a few miles around the city today did not appeal to me in the heat of the afternoon.

Today was the first day of the second summer session. I have an evening class that meets Mondays and Wednesdays from 6-9:50PM for the next six weeks. It was so hot and humid today, working out was something that needed done, but I was not about to run a few miles in this weather. I had a plan. I was going to go to the rec center---a fancy title for a closet with 2 treadmills, 4 ellipticals, and other various machines in smaller number---and I was going to run AND weight lift before class.

Look at me go. I was such an overachiever this morning.

After figuring out which bus came when by my apartment, I got downstairs in perfect timing to find my bus come just early enough for me to see it, but just late enough for me to miss it. Then, the next bus came late.

Perfect, right?

But, no big deal. Pluto was demoted from planet to moon. The universe has bigger problems. So, I sucked it up and stood in the heat in a black dress, waiting for a bus. Eventually, the bus I did not want to take to town came. At that point, I would take any bus for the sheer fact that a bus meant air conditioning.

It's about 15 minutes until 4:00PM at this point and the bus taking a roundabout route to Downtown could not possibly move any slower. By the time I got Downtown, rush hour was in full force and every single slow pedestrian and construction cone was positioned right in the middle of every sidewalk, on every block.

When I finally got to Lawrence Hall, I realized that summer made Downtown all the more inconvenient. The bookstore was closed already. I couldn't buy a single bus ticket. So, I go back up the street to the nearest PNC ATM and withdraw some cash to get a drink for my workout. I would later use the change to pay for my bus fare home after class.

Oh wait---The Point Cafe is closed too.

OK, whatever.

I will just suck up this workout and use the water fountain. There was no way I was going back up to Forbes Avenue for the second time since getting off the bus to go to CVS for a bottle of water. I'll go back after my workout and pick up a notebook for tonight's class.

I ran down three flights of stairs to the rec center, in the basement of Lawrence Hall. I found my student ID and struggled to swipe into the system. The old guy behind the desk had a crooked nose and his glasses were tilted because of it. He smiled at me.

I have been at Point Park University for four years. I have one more semester, and I still refuse to use the locker rooms in the rec center. I really don't know why I never have, but, for the sake of principle and tradition, I walked straight to the bathroom and wedged myself into the stall to get dressed. I took off my dress and replaced my sandals with my No Nonsense socks and Asics running shoes. I dug through my bag and pulled out my sports bra, my t-shirt, and my shorts. I grabbed the black shorts and started to pull them over one of my legs.

Oh, that's strange.

I looked down at my feet. My leg was through the arm hole of another one of my workout t-shirts.

Damnit.

My bag was completely empty. I brought a sports bra, sneakers, and 2 t-shirts to the gym.

I forgot my pants.

I wanted to just go home and start my day all over again. I was so embarrassed. I remembered a hair tie and even a bottle of toner for after my workout to freshen makeup, but I forgot my pants.

Who does that?

And it isn't like I didn't have all day to get my stuff together for class. I was not short on time at all today. It was just one of those dumb things I do. It was one of those not-so perfect things I do. It was just one of those not-so perfect things I do all the time.

You know, we all like to believe we are better than we really are, act better than we really act, and look better than we really look to other people. We also like to think we are always right---Or, at least I do. I am a fairly smart girl. I have my head on straight. I read the news and vote. I have many different friends and acquaintances, and I have experienced a lot of different things in my life.

I like to believe that I am a good person, and that whatever I do is on-point. I am a perfectionist, too. Can you tell? Well, I am a virgo; it comes with the stars. But, I would like to explore this concept of being not-so perfect. So, what better way to explore something than through my very own blog?

Now I have a blog.

I have started this blog today to introduce both you and myself to my life in an imperfect lens. I want to explore my own grasp on life as I already know it and look at it from a perspective that is not-so perfect. In this blog, I want to examine my life through my imperfect moments. I want to be okay with being imperfect---And, not just because it's the 'so perfect' thing to say. I hope to learn about myself and perhaps change my perspective on a few things. Maybe I won't change anything. Maybe I will change the world. But, either way, I'd like to welcome you to my not-so perfect world---to see me imperfectly, to see the world without seeing it, and to engage in a world without expectation of excellence.

Today, we are told to be the best we can be and to go 110 percent in anything we do. Let's try on 90 percent and see how it fits. Maybe we're missing something when we see everything at 110 percent. Maybe we need to step back and see the highlights of the day as the mistakes we make, the times we embarrass ourselves, or the minutes we wish we could start the day over again, instead of the usual suspects we typically label as highlights. Instead of telling you about how delicious my plate of pancakes from Pamela's Diner was one morning, I am going to tell you about all of the syrup I dribbled down my arm and gave myself a nice waxing to the arm when I tried to lift my hands off the table. Instead of telling you about what a great hair day I had, I am going to tell you about how I burned my forehead with my flat iron right before going to work.

Sound crazy? Maybe it is. But I like the idea so far. So let's just see what happens. I'd love your feedback throughout this journey. Typos are encouraged.