Did you know I’m only 20? I had a student come into my office today and tell me I was only 20. Thanks for the compliment! He also mentioned the lack of ring on my left hand. Hrmm….awkward! Actually, it wasn’t at all, although it easily could have been. But I had to laugh when he guessed 20, it made me feel pretty good. Apparently I don’t look my almost 25 years old. That bodes well for the future!
Archive for August, 2009|Monthly archive page
I’m in my new place. Boxes are strewn all over the place. Some are still taped tight, others are half empty as I dig through them looking for random things like my swimsuit. Delightful.
I finally crashed into bed last night at about 11:15, and 5:45 came much too soon. I decided to have toast for breakfast and discovered the frustration of Leopold in that if you push the toast down once, it merely creates warm bread, if you push it down twice, it becomes charcoal, rendering it inedible. That, and smoking up your home and setting off the fire alarm. That’s right. My fire alarm went off at 6 a.m. I turned it off as quickly as I could and said a quick prayer that the soundproofing between the units would keep the sound from waking up my neighbours. I mean, what a great first impression to make!
Then, the alarm started beeping at me. Aparently it takes a lot of battery power when the alarm goes off, and now the battery needs to be replaced.
After airing out my house (mostly), I headed of to the swimming pool late, meaning I could only get in 900m, rather than the 1200m I was aiming for today. It also meant I was late picking up my sister, who is a saint for her patience.
Oh what a morning. And have I mentioned that today is probably in my top five busiest days in the work year as well?
I am slowly going crazy, one, two three…
I’m moving tomorrow and am doing some “last minute packing” which actually means I left most of the packing until today.
I cannot believe how much stuff I had. I thought the beyond my big stuff, like my mattress, bureau, bookshelves, there would be maybe 5 boxes. I’m probably double or triple that already, and I’m not done. Where does all this stuff come from? That and I know that when I’m in my new place, which has considerably more room, it’ll look like I have nothing. So over the year I’ll accumulate more stuff. I don’t even want to know how much stuff I’ll have next time I move. Yikes!
I don’t know if I’m forgetful or just plain…forgetful. I’m going into my second year of my job and I feel like I’ve got most of it nailed down for the second time around, but there are a few things I’m still learning, and it feels like it’s for the first time. But then something clicks in the back of my brain, a vague memory of learning this the first time around. A year is a while to wait to go through a process, but I can’t believe how much I don’t remember! For the most part things are going much more smoothly than they did last year when I was so worried about getting things right and was stressed out of my mind. Less stress now, just a bit of muddling left as I nail down the last few things about my job that I need to learn or re-learn.
I know it’s not really a question, as I’m already moving on Sunday, but I just noticed this morning that it’s taken me about a year to feel really comfortable in my current neighbourhood, and it’s take about this long to get to know the people who are living in the neighbourhood, not just in the houses beside me.
As I pretty much move on a yearly basis, I’m rethinking my moving strategies. Maybe I should try two years in one place. Oh my, what a commitment! (note sarcasm). Really, if I found an area I loved and a place I loved to live in, I’d probably stay for a good while. The thing is, the area and a place you love living in can be a tricky combination to find. Maybe my next place…although I must admit, I’ve never thought of Millwoods as my ideal area. Miracles happen, or so they say. I guess it’s a matter of wait and see.
Part of me really wants to design heels. And I don’t mean any heels, I mean good heals. I’m sick of shoes in which my heal slips, or my feet become sore, or cause me to twist my ankle. It’s so frustrating finding a pair of shoes you think are priceless and all they give you is pain. I’m wearing an incredibly cute pair of black heels right now, and feel in love with them when I bought them. But I can’t count the number of times I’ve stepped and my ankle has rolled. I swear, someday I’ll break my ankle due to heels. But what’s to be done! I can’t afford to spend $200 on a pair of heels, let alone $800. I’m starting to believe that anything under $50 is just an accident waiting to happen. What is the difference between crappy and good heels. They all look the same, so how come they don’t feel the same?
Fresh black coffee. A cinnamon bun drizzled with cinnamon caramel topping. It oozes over the top of the warm bun and down the sides. Is there anything more delightful upon arrival at work than these two things? I think not. You wish your work had a chef like mine does. And my appologies. I forgot my camera, or I would have taken a picture of this divine gooy piece of art.
My hair feels like straw.
My sister and I have been swimming three times a week for two and a half weeks now. I dyed my hair about a month ago. And it’s still recovering from a perm.
My hair feels like straw.
No matter how much conditioner I use, it still feels brittle and rough. Any suggestions? Anyone know any good deep-conditioners?
Life is different once you leave university. One week melds into the next. One season is effortlessly usurped by another. There is not defined end to the work year, and there is no defined vacations, or beginning of the next. One year drifts into the next and everything changes but still seems the same. It’s hard to notice the changes, as they’re slow and subtle. But they’re there. And if you could jump from now to the same time last year, you’d be shocked at how much has changed. Co-workers, friends, how you spend your weekend. It all changes. And yet, it all stays the same. Life is an odd thing. If you let it, it will just pass you by. But if you take time to notice, which I too rarely do, you’ll see the changes coming and going, you’ll see progression and one week will cease to meld into the next. Experiences will define you, and life can be fully lived. You just need to pay attention.
Some of you may be thinking, what’s she going to compare between Starbucks and McDonald’s? And isn’t the winner of whatever the comparison is, already obvious? Well hear me out.
As far as ambiance goes, Starbucks wins hands down, every time, unless you’re in one of those specialty McDonald’s that looks like a wood lodge or something. But what I am comparing here is not ambiance, it’s coffee. Good old, straight up, black coffee. Not the fruffy stuff. Not the non-fat dairy-free hazelnut latte. But just a black coffee. Starbucks’ Pike Place roast vs. McDonald’s Arabica Coffee.
First of all, let’s admit you get more bang for your buck at McDonald’s with a large coffee. My roommate just brought me a coffee for $1.67, and I’m guessing it’s about 16 oz. That’s a big coffee.
Starbucks, on the other hand, charges closer to $2 for the same size. Not a big difference, unless you drink a lot of coffee.
I have no idea what actual official taste test have said in comparing the two, but I know what my taste buds tell me. McDonald’s wins hands down. Their coffee is refreshing, without a bitter aftertaste. Sometimes at Starbucks I feel like I’m drinking tar, not for the sludge factor, but the taste factor.
My apologies to anyone who loves Starbucks, but this is what my taste buds tell me.