Day 16: Nerds Unite!

I swear I never laugh as hard as I do with my two best girlfriends. We are straight up nerds and that makes up a good portion of why I love each of them and us as a unit. We met as English majors as Nazareth College and our love of the language and literature helped forge a bond I know will last forever. We chastise each other for spelling and grammar mistakes, find ourselves debating forms of speech, pass around book recommendations and judge others on their poor use of the English language. And through all our nerdiness, we laugh. God, we laugh! And eat... :)

Ilona and Heather, I am completely myself around you and have no desire to pretend to be anything else when we get together. We don't see each other as much as I'd like these days...jobs, moves and motherhood have stepped in, but when we do get together, it's like we pick up where we left off. There's no awkwardness, no strange small talk, just us being us and completely accepting of one another. We catch up on what's happening, listen to each other's gripes, and always end up giggling. It's days like today where I step back and realize how truly lucky I am. How often do I look at the world as not measuring up to what I want? My job's not enough, I don't have enough money, I'm still single, I live so far away, etc... But, at the end of day, I am so rich in the people who I love and love me back. Not everyone has that and I am surrounded by it. From an albeit small, but ever-supportive family, to the friends who stand by me through everything, thank you for being there and loving me. Sorry to get all mushy, I am a Cancer after all, but it's so very true and sometimes it just doesn't get said enough. Okay, girls, feel free to break out the red pen and proofread... ;)

Day 15: Another BJ moment in my life...

Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. Bridget Jones moment! In case you hadn't heard, I find I'm constantly plageud by moments in life where I have the best intentions to do the trendy/cool/hip/NORMAL things...only to end up hitting catastrophe and looking like a fool.

I'm lined up for a girly best friend day this weekend. My two best girls from college and I all have birthdays within 10 days of each other in July. (i'm the youngest! :) ) So, instead of buying gifts, we try to spend a day together. This year, it's margarita pedicures, lunch and plenty of cocktails to follow. Now, I can count on one hand the number of pedicures I've had in my life, my last being just about 2 years ago. THREE DAYS before my scheduled toesy treatment, I slam my foot into the coffee table, stubbing the absolute life out of my index toe (I don't know if that's what it's called, but I bet you know which one I'm talking about). I feel like it's broken in two, it's now all cut up on the top AND I'm pretty sure the toe nail is going to fall off. Seriously? This couldn't have waited a week until after I had to drop my feet in another person's lap and have her (or him!) polish them up? Good grief... So, now I'm left wondering if I back out for fear of embarassment when she likely gasps upon first look, or if I push forward, explain the situation and hope I'm not the first person to have a fugly toe. I think I'm going with the second option, even though my inner voice is SCREAMING the first, because I want this damn pedicure! Why should the other 9 toes have to suffer for my clumsiness? I'm taking a stand and not being afraid of what someone else might say. I mean, it's her job to make fugly feet pretty again, right? Bright side...maybe I'll get a discount.

Day 14: My name is Lindsey and I'm a shopaholic.

What is wrong with me? Look to the right...do I really need this? The answer is no. Did I really want this? I absolutely thought I could not live without it. Now that I'm home, I realize I don't have a lot of use for a straw basket-like bag with wooden handles, but it was on sale, it was watermelon (remember that addiction?), and it just had to go home with me.

While I enjoy a cocktail or rely on coffee to start my day, shopping is my drug of choice. I'm pretty sure I get high off it. There's something about walking into a store and feeling the vast opportunity of things that could become mine. The mind wanders, daydreams of serving high tea in delicate, flowered tea cups, or what you could use a hot pink frying pan for, or what shoes you have that would match the dress you've just now decided you can't leave the store without...even if you know you'll only wear it once.

Then comes the buying. The rush of splurging a little more than you know you should, the thrill of a swipe of plastic for something that's not a necessity, the signature with a flourish as you already start thinking about how to accessorize. It doesn't even have to be a major purchase. On my meager budget, I'm not ashamed to say I often fill my basket at the dollar store or check out the clearance shelf at the drug store. As soon as I hit the register, my fingers tingle, my cheeks flush, and I can't help but grin at the sales clerk. I'm suddenly extra friendly, there's a spring in my step, and my outlook on life in general is a whole lot brighter. And, don't even get me started should something be on sale...there are no words to describe a good deal.

So that's how I walked out of the store today. Smiling, almost-skipping and swinging my watermelon bag. Is this normal? Can I get help for this? I believe in indulging every now and then, it keeps you sane. But the rush I get from shopping is almost dangerous. I feel like I teeter on the line between staying in the black and plunging into the red to feel the shopping bags accumulate. (Isn't it a thrilling feeling to gather up a plethora of bags?!) I know I needed the perk today, and it WAS on sale, so I'm feeling like I have enough will power to stop...though, if I was a little more plush in the funds department, I'm not sure it'd be so easy to reign it in. Maybe it's a good thing I'm always broke.

Day 13: I'm pretty sure they're out to get me...

They're shaving years off my life and causing gray hairs to sprout. Spiders. *shudder* And, don't forget those long things with the thousands of legs. Just typing the words is sending chills through me and making me itchy. If you know me, you know my aversion to the multi-legged bugs, especially after this video was made a few years ago by my oh-so-considerate co-workers Matt Apthorp and Matt Hobbs. Yes, you're getting a shout out because to this day you continue to rustle it up, therefore freshly unveiling it every time I immerse myself in a new environment. I'm including it in this post, because at this point I've moved past the embarassment and can laugh along with it...most of the time. Some background info for those who have not seen it: my photog friends left a spider on my keyboard and set up a hidden camera to record my reaction...click here to see my freak out.

So there you go. I'd say that pretty much sums up my hatred of all things creepy crawly. (In my defense, I'm pretty sure that spider was the size of a tennis ball and had fangs.) Countless times I've opened a door, turned a corner or pulled back the shower curtain to see one just waiting for me and after seeing white for a moment from fear and shreiking while jumping back, I'm left with the task of getting rid of the little bastard. Since I've been living on my own the last 6 years, it's pretty much been up to me wipe it out...but it just never gets any easier. I get goosebumps, the shivers, creep slowly up to it and still take a good 5 minutes to actually smoosh it with my tissue wrapped flip flop. I realize this is a stupid fear, that I'm essentially a million times larger than this little bug, but I can't get past it! It almost gets more terrifying as I get older! I guess there are worse things in life to be afraid of, but I'd really like to get over it...any suggestions? Is there anything that gets the same reaction out of you? Share and sympathize...

P.S. Click here to see the very flattering musical remix of my spider reaction... Enjoy my humiliation. :)

Day 12: Will I ever have enough?

Ugh. They don't tell you when you start a career in news that the salary will be meager and slow to grow. Television sounds all shiny and exciting, but the pay is the exact opposite. So here I am, 29, more than 5 years up the ol' career ladder...and I'm off to an interview for a part time job. At an amusement park. Designed for kids. The best part is I have to jack my sleep all up for it, because the interview's at 4:30...which I'm so fortunate as to call the middle of my night.

Good grief, I can feel the bitterness just rolling off me! Okay, I'm reigning it in and accepting it for what it is. For one thing, what else do I have to do with my time? I can squeeze out a few hours a day and (yuck) on the weekends to put little kids on rides. And, think, just THINK of the extra money to fall back on! It won't be much, but when you're stretching every dollar, literally taking your funds down to a balance of $.42 (that's my current total til Friday!) an extra $100 a week makes you feel like rockstar. So for the second day in a row, I'm sucking it up again, this time my pride and my desire to get 8 hours of sleep, for the chance to get groceries, gas, AND maybe catch a movie all in one pay period.

Makes you wonder what I'm constantly striving for though... Will I ever hit that point where I can live comfortably off my salary? Where I can pay all my bills and have money leftover, actually, *gasp* put some into, what's it called again? Savings? I don't want Bentleys, or mansions or diamonds (well, that's a lie, what girl doesn't want diamonds??) or 5 star resorts, but it would be nice to not scramble to get money (which I've likely rustled up by pawning DVDs) into my checking account when I realized I've just made a purchase for more than my balance and I don't want to get smacked with an overdraft fee. Will I ever reach that point? Right now, it seems impossible, that I keep paddling just enough to keep my head above water...but I want to float serenely on the surface. All I can do is keep my nose to the grindstone, keep my eye out for the next career move and hope for the best...the best being a sizeable raise with a gym membership, 5 weeks vacation and a sweet holiday bonus. Okay, I'll settle for a moderate raise, and maybe a shift that takes place during daylight hours.

Day 11: Sucking it up and getting it over with

I had 2 hours of sleep, after spending a day trying to no longer be hungover, a motherf#@*er of a morning newscast, and the remnants of a diet coke plastered all over the inside of my freezer, after all of which I wanted to crawl into bed, pull up the covers and not come out until tomorrow. Or tonight, however you look it... BUT, I knew I couldn't get to the gym tomorrow and Friday I'm hitting the road right after work, which left only today, Wednesday and Thursday to get my butt on the treadmill. While I may have wanted to just lay my head down for a teensy, itty bitty few minutes, I walked right in the door, changed my clothes, laced up my sneakers and headed back out again. And, you know what? It feels good! It also ended up being a fabulous way to beat out the frustration that had built up through the morning. I may have left the gym a sweaty, frizzy mess, but I was much more relaxed, content, and overall didn't think the world was out to get me. What is they say about exercise and endorphins? I must say, the self-satisfaction of carrying through with a goal I set for myself today feels pretty good, too. I can be what they call a procrastinator, and when it comes to exercise, I tend to procrastinate myself right out of it. But today, I saw the perks of sucking it up and not putting it off. Try it, I dare you.

Day 10: How old is too old?

It's 1:30 on a Sunday afternoon. The blinds are drawn, my head is under the covers, there's an occassional moan that echoes through my apartment, either from me or the person in the same fetal position on my couch. No, I'm not in mourning. I'm hungover, and I swear I'm not drinking ever again.

Okay, that's a lie. I mean, how many times have we made that promise? We all know I'll drink again, but, seriously, am I too old to be drinking to the point I can't get out of bed the next day? When it's all going down the hatch, it really doesn't seem like that much. But, when I have flashbacks to solo dances without music, tripping over non-existent steps, and making french fries at 3 in the morning, I cringe at my apparent inability to cut myself off. And let's be honest, I ultimately end up having a freaking fabulous time, despite putting my body through the ringer. I mean, it's not like I'm alone in my adventures, oh lovely friends of mine, we're all guilty of some crazy shenanigans when the cocktails start flowing. But, holy crap do we laugh, both while sipping and the during the next day recap! So, as I approach the big 3-0 mark, I find myself wondering if it's time to leave the bar stool dances behind in my 20s? It's likely the responsible thing to do, and there's nothing wrong with keeping my awesome moves to a dance floor... but do I really have to give up the all the crazy? How old is too old? I'm thinking so long as I keep it a minimum, and I'm not embarassing any children, I'm good to go...

Day 9:The little things that make me smile...

Watermelon. I don't know what it is about the red and green ginourmous fruit, but I freaking adore it. Not just to eat, you see, but the overall look of it. If you come to my apartment, you'll see some subtle and not-so-subtle nods to the summer sweet. A lamp, a blanket, a pillow, a trinket, a keychain, yes, even salt and pepper shakers. I can't seem to help it! I don't know if my deep-rooted desire goes back to the scene from Dirty Dancing where she carries the watermelon (can't you just feel her embarassment?? We've so all been there...), or to my mom slicing it up on hot, summer days, I catch a glimps of a watermelon in a store, in a movie, in a magazine and I can't help but smile. I'm about to reveal a deep dark secret: there was even an outfit when I was about 12 that consisted of olive green pants (ugh, which I totally pinch rolled) and a bright pink sweater over a black turtleneck. I know, it's strange, but don't we all have those things that we have a certain lean towards, or collect, or just get a kick out of? It might be strange, but it perks up my day a smidge every time I catch an h2omelon (yes, my long agon AIM sign in and user id for years!) out of the corner of my eye or gives me a boost. What does it for you?

Day 8: Misery truly does love company

I've been in a progressively bad mood all week leading up to today, because in the back of my mind, I knew a 12 hour shift of producing 4 hours of news by myself was how it was all going to end. It's just one more notch in the "not AT ALL what I expected this job to be" bedpost of this career move bed I'm apparently handcuffed to. Okay, that's a bit drama queen-esque, but the more I think about the more fired up I get...

Anyway, I came into work with a dark cloud over my head, but it started to blow away because of my fabulous coworkers! There truly is something special in unifying over a similar plight...in this case, the unfortunate inner-workings of a certain work place. It seems we've all been screwed over or lied to at some point and to be able to vent to those who can sympathize is truly cathartic. A bitch session, followed by some crafty producing, during which I had some lovely help by a cheerful companion, some more bitching, a tasty coffee drink surprise during my 4 hours in the booth, and then even MORE bitching and I ended my Friday in a light-hearted mood and with a smile on my face.

So thanks, my fellow miserable cohorts, for making it bearable. If I didn't know you'd all be there to share in my pain, I'm not quite sure I'd walk out the front door every day. It's been hard to look on the bright side lately, but you're providing a lovely beam of flashlight through the gloom. :)

Day 7: Full Coverage Required

Absolutely, positively, necessary in order to focus and keep your sanity while running: full-coverage, ass-enveloping, belly button-covering granny panties. Good grief ladies, and men, depending on your choice of underoos, this is not the time to don skimpy briefs, low rise bikinis or a thong. I would have never thought of making an underwear change, until I was on the treadmill and running like a duck to shake it loose. Um, holy wedgie Batman! Soon it became all I could think of, and while I toughed it out to finish my workout, I can tell you I'll be shelving the cute for the comfortable in the future.

Day 6: Accepting...and moving on

I could put it off no longer. It was time to make the trek to the Pennsylvania DMV for the great transfer of car crap. I think a small part of me, scratch that, a LARGE part of me was holding out hope I'd land a ticket out of here before my Illinois registration ran out in July, but it doesn't look like that's happening...so to the DMV I went.

I'm pretty sure the DMV is where patience goes to die. Every time I go, I research, prepare and arm myself with anything and everything I should need, only to find out I f-ed up somewhere along the way. Things started out well, when I was taken instantly upon my arrival. I mean, no wait at the DMV?? Unheard of. Annnnd...apparently counting my chickens before they hatch. After filling out all my license stuff, I got sent to the picture booth, where I had the privilege of sitting around for about an hour, after which I had to take 3 pictures so that I might have a license with a non-deformed face. Give me a break, I'd been up since 8:30 the night before, had worked a full shift and could barely keep my eyes open. Anyway, I finally get a license made that's apparently temporary (why go through the trouble of making one if you're going to send me a different one?), only to find out I can't get my license plates or registration there! So, I'm directed to a license/notary/insurance store (?), where I fork over all necessary documents...including New York State insurance with a PA address, which you guessed it, can't be accepted. That prompted a 50 minute phone call to Progressive to sign up for a whole new policy, which meant an instant first payment. Did I mention I had just made a payment on my current policy? And, that it couldn't be applied to the new payment, but that I'd have to wait 2 weeks for it to be refunded? Needless to say, after shelling out the second policy payment and the $100 for the license plate and registration, I've got about $12 to last me the next few weeks. Can we say hello Ramen?

The lesson in all this? I can't dwell on the unchangeable. I could get upset at the length of time this all took, or the money I had to fork over that I don't usually have to budget for, or the job I moved here for that I'm growing more miserable at by the day and forced me to transfer all this crap in the first place...but instead, I'm taking a deep breath. I made my decision, I WILL make the most of it. And, at the end of the day, I have to be a legal driver in the state of Pennsylvania. So, I'm sucking it up, planning to channel my hunger into exercise, and perusing the classifieds for a part-time second job. I'm a strong, capable, independent woman and I can get through this. Period.

Day 5: Walk On? Nope. Run On.

Um, running? Not easy. And, I'm waiting for the fun part to kick in. Right now, when I hit 5 minutes, I pretty much feel like I'm going to die. And, for any of you who are ample in the upper region, you can sympathize with the discomfort (2 sports bras seems to help!). But, I'll get there...I hope. I actually started a few weeks ago, before the countdown to 30 officially began, but now I'm kicking it into high gear. I'm striving for 4 days away, 30-40 minute sessions. So far, I'm doing a bit of alternate walk/running, sort of a build up to straight running. Despite my procrastinating to actually get to the gym, and the urge to let my fluttering lashes stay shut for a nap, once I'm on the treadmill, it actually feels pretty good! I've got to work on some better breathing (do you ever get a rhythm down?? I feel like I can't get enough air!) and a more energetic play list (I love you Madonna, but I need a little variation). Any tips fellow runners? I've been inspired by some good friends of mine this year...so, I've decided to follow their lead and work towards a 5K, AND run the whole thing, within the next year. Hopefully it comes with more energy, leaner hips, and a little less in that ample upper region, not to mention a huge sense of satisfaction of reaching a once unattainable goal. Wish me luck and feel free to inspire me with your running stories!

Day 4: Learning to say no

Sleep. It's kind of important, you might even say essential. And, when you don't have it, life just doesn't flow right. I love to sleep as much as the next person, but I tend to shelve it for other plans, usually because I'm reluctant to turn them down. Seems like a good plan, until it catches up to me and I'm left trying to prop my eyes open all night at work.

I went home to Rochester this weekend to celebrate the old b-day. First of all, going home is never a relaxing trip, because I'm anxious to see friends and family and trying to cram it all into a 48 hour period. Never mind that I'm driving 5 hours in after working a 9 hour shift that started at midnight... A little coffee, a little nap and I'm good to go, right? Wrong. After being up about 32 hours, getting 7 hours of sleep, and spending the day on the water (in a boat) with a friend, I went shopping with Mom AND made plans to get drinks later that night. That turned into another late night after which I got 4 hours of sleep and started the 5 hour drive back to Pennsylvania. I had a couple hours between the time I got home and had to go to work, so I thought I'd take a short nap. I woke up 20 minutes before I was supposed to be there...and I live a half hour away! I honestly felt like I'd been assaulted with the speed I leaped from bed, jumped in the shower and ran out the door. It's not healthy, not productive and just plain doesn't feel good. I need to learn to look at the bigger picture and say no if necessary. As much as I want to see friends, I just can't do it all. I will work on realizing it's okay to turn something down, or at least reschedule. If someone's my friend, they'll understand I can only stretch so far...especially when it ends up in the hot mess I look like at work after getting ready in 20 minutes. Seriously, I look like I stuck my finger in a socket.

Day 3: Kids? No thanks.

At least not yet anyway. Definitely not yet. After spending about an hour with my friend Chad's 4 nieces and nephew, I was more than ready to be on my way, getting on with my own life and not worrying about anyone else but me. Don't get me wrong, they're all adorable, each with a distinct personality, and alot of fun to hang out with. But, I'm not at a point where I want to be unendingly responsible for another human being. Chad's poor sister (mother of 3 of the 5) kept sitting down to eat dinner, only to jump up a minute later to fill a drink, scoop out more corn or soothe a crier. And, the running! Everywhere they went was by sprint. I was sitting amid a contstant flurry of running, yelling, crying children, just feeling the anxiety build up. If the circumstances were different, if I was in another place in my life, maybe settled, in a relationship, and faced with motherhood, I know I could step up to the plate. But, I'm not right now, and I think I'm okay with that. I'm not knocking mothers, I absolutely want to be one some day, but there's more I want to do for me before I make that commitment. Is that selfish or smart?

Day 2: Baby Steps

I took my shirt off today. It took a little self-convincing and a few boosts of self-esteem from my friend Ilona, but off it finally came, even if it was for only about 20 minutes. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, I had a bathing suit on...

Like many women, I'm extremely self-conscious of my body. I'm not what you would call a slim girl, I've got some curves...excuse me, CURVES. And, it's taken me a loooong time to kind of accept that. I say 'kind of,' because what girl ever really accepts their body? I'll always want to be slimmer, flatter, leaner and a little less round. But, I've seen the stock I come from, and we're not a tiny people. So, I vow to exercise, try and eat right and become the healthiest version of me I can. I mean, what's wrong with a few curves?

Anyway, back to the shirt. I ventured out on a boat with my friend Ilona and her boyfriend. Of course, bathing suits are the most appropriate attire, but I don't usually roll that way. I'm a cover it up kind of gal, no need to flaunt what I don't have, though I must say, I've been easing up on caring as I get older. For example, I'll wear my bathing suit at a pool where I don't know a soul. (Who cares what strangers think?) But, I RARELY lose the shirt when I'm around people I know. So I'm sitting on this boat, roasting my butt off in the sun and realize how ridiculous I look being the only person in shorts and a t-shirt. Plus, these are my friends! People I love and who love me back! What are they going to do, flip me overboard and take off cuz I'm not a size 6? I really think they can tell that before the shirt comes off! So, off it finally came. So what if it took me the first 2 hours to work up the nerve. So what if it was only for about 20 minutes and I was slightly hyperventilating the entire time I clutched the shirt in my lap. I did it. No one laughed, no one gasped, in fact, I don't think anyone really noticed...or cared. So, next time, it'll slide off a little sooner.

Day 1: The Journey Begins...

29. Me. We're synonomous for the first time today and I'll be honest, it's got me feeling a bit unsettled. When I was a little girl making plastic dinner in my Fisher Price kitchen for my Cabbage Patch dolls, AFTER coming home from my day job as a veterinarian slash actress, I imagined 29 would come with the husband, 2.5 kids, dog, house, as well as a fancy career where I got to wear lipstick and shoulder pads (gotta love the 80's!). Let's just say things have turned out a bit differently... I've got the career, though I can get away with wearing jeans, and it's one that I question everyday just how much I like it. I live alone, always have since moving out of my parents home over 5 years ago. I'm yet to enter into a long-term relationship, never called anyone 'boyfriend.' I own no property, I have no pets and certainly no kids, and my savings is a sad state of affairs. I've been throwing all I have into my career, but is it worth it? Does the big pay day eventually come where I can comfortably shift gears and focus on the more personal aspects of my life? And the bigger question, is that really what I want?

A few things I have discovered: I like living alone. I like things in their right place, my place, I like being able to eat pickles standing in front of the open fridge, I like walking around with rollers in my hair and no make up and not feeling self conscious, I like rocking out to show tunes as I vacuum or cook. How do I learn to share my space with someone?

I like working in television, the spontaneity and excitement of it, and the fact that I get to write everyday. As far as jobs go, producing is pretty cool. But, have I reached my limit on news? Does it get me excited anymore? And, if it doesn't, what on earth do I do next?

I like being able to pick up and move somewhere. It's exhausting, but there's a sense of freedom that goes with it, not to mention an excitement of exploring someplace new, proving to yourself you can make it. Will I ever want to settle somewhere? Does that anxiety of parking it in one spot for too long wear off?

When it comes down to it, I've got a good life. Fantastic, supportive family, fabulous, full of life friends, a career in something I pursued and made happen, I've traveled to and lived in different cities, on paper, it all looks pretty good. But it wasn't in the plan, so far none of it has been, so maybe it's time to scrap it and make a new one. It's alot to contemplate before I've even blown out the candles, but here's my wish: I'm not holding back this 29th year of my life, I'm going for what I want and not being afraid to fall...and one year from now, I hope to embrace whatever my life encompasses, whether it be exactly what I have now or the kids, husband and dog. It's my life, I'll make it what I want. Here I come 30.