Happy

Yesterday I was driving to Silver Falls, OR, to meet some friends from my time in Japan. It was gorgeous out and I had the sunroof open and my favorite tunes on. I was thinking through everything, like I always do, and specifically about the next few weeks, and this exactly phrase spontaneously ran through my head: Sometimes I feel like my life is one dream-come-true after another. 

Now, I find that so strange. I'm 38, single, barren, unemployed, and rapidly depleting my entire life savings. I live 3,000 miles from my best friend, my seestor, and despite having lived in Portland before, I don't have that many friends here. But right then I felt a pinch-me, is this really my life? kind of happiness. And I genuinely don't feel that all the time, or even often, but I felt it intensely on Sunday. Maybe it's just an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I don't know. It felt good.

I have my second surfing lesson on Wednesday. I'm so nervous! I'm scared that I'll be terrible, that I'll totally fail, that I'll break surfing for everyone. I'll be so bad that no one, anywhere, will ever be able to surf again. That is my fear. I hope I have the guts to go through with it. I hope it's a good experience. 

I started a DreamWeaver class at the local CC last week. It's exciting. I like the tiny bit of HTML that I know, and I thought that class would be a neat way to see if there is even an ounce of creativity left in me, or if 15 years of banking has killed every right-brain impulse I ever had. I was so excited to get the book and the software and start on our first assignment . . . and I couldn't figure it out. It completely stumped me. The task was an HTML review and I screwed around with it for several hours over several days. I was really getting down about it - surely I wasn't up for the class if I couldn't do the first assignment. I e-mailed the instructor and didn't understand her reply. Ugh. The whole time I had a feeling my problem was with the extension on my saved file, but I couldn't get anything to work. 

Well, I'm still doing my One to One Apple sessions (and will be for the foreseeable future - there's the cutest Genius at that location, at least 6'6" and totally gorgeous) and I had an iMovie session last Thursday. As we got started, I took a chance and asked the guy if I could be so bold as to ask for help with my homework. He was incredibly, incredibly cool about it, and we spent at least 30 minutes working on it together! He really enjoyed the chance to work on something different, and, even better, the problem was with my extension! I was so stoked. So maybe I'll do ok with this new adventure. I'll check out my next assignment tomorrow.

Three weeks ago I started jogging at a local high school track. I'm really trying to lose weight. Not a crazy amount (although I would be fine with that), but enough to make throwing myself around on a surfboard a bit easier. I also find that running is the one exercise that I don't completely hate and I might even like it a little. I have pretty intense shin splints and always have to come home and throw bags of frozen broccoli on my shins, and I think I will ask my doc about them just to be sure, but this guy kicked the shit out of me using them as an excuse to not go. I started out running in the mornings but have lately switched to evenings, and I'm having a great time running at 9-ish each night, watching the sun set and the moon rise. The field is gorgeous and the sky feels huge around me. I look forward to it every day. 

I don't really know all the implications or what this exactly means, and it comes and goes, but I'm realizing that I feel less stress right now than I think I have in the past ten years. Maybe twenty. I have times of intense fear about what comes next, and what if nothing comes next, and what if, what if, what if. The potential for this story to end in a bad way is probably pretty high. But for the first time in so long I don't experience the Sunday night anxiety about starting a new week, and I don't have my mind race with meeting details when I'm trying to sleep, and I don't have even one tiny piece of my brain dedicated to office politics or bosses that I hate. It's truly a new feeling for me. I think it's what I've always tried to cram into a weekend or a week-long vacation somewhere, but it never really works. I think I'm refueling in a deep way. It feels good.

It's a Long Story, But Trust Me, She Deserved It

I went to Seattle this past weekend and had such a great time. It was the kind of weekend that makes a girl really happy she lives in the Pacific Northwest and not Japan or NY. 

On Friday night I attended Sizzle'sNintendo's "Girlfriend's Guide to Gaming" party. What to say about a party so awesome I practically levitated around the room? It was such a good time! There were four stations set up for gaming and you spent time at each station playing specific games (Mario Kart, Brain Age, etc.) When you were finished at each station you were given a coin to show that you'd visited and tried all the games. 

And at the end of the night we turned in our coins and were given our VERY OWN NINTENDO DSi portable game systems! I couldn't believe it. Actual party swag! (Not to take away from the PB&J sandwich I got at TequilaCon '07. I loved that sandwich.) I just couldn't freakin believe that part. We also got the game Brain Age, which, sadly, proved that my brain is a shriveled pea. It was so totally generous and cool. I about barfed from excitement when they started pulling out the boxes of new DSi's. I think we all did.

I'm not terribly social, so the party was a really cool for me to say Yes! to getting out of my comfort zone once again. Everyone was so cool, and laughing with a bunch of smart women is among my all-time favorite things to do. My Flickr party photos here. 

On Saturday morning I had a delicious breakfast with Sizzle, Kerri Anne, and Kaply. I have to say how much I enjoyed hanging out with 3 women who are so smart and funny, just talking about life and laughing together. I had a really nice time. 

On Saturday evening I was exhausted from walking around the city for about five hours (I love you, Seattle! Call me.), so I bought a ticket to "The Hangover" and was settling in with some popcorn when my brother texted me. His very cool in-laws had an extra front row ticket to the Mariners game. Did I want it? 

Now, I try to like the sports. I really do. But I don't understand all the rules and details and stuff. But I love my little brother, and love spending time with his wife and her fam, so I ran back to the hotel, freshened up, and caught a cab to the ballpark. It turned out to be such a total blast, and the seats were crazy! At one point a foul ball went 3" over my brother's head at about a zillion miles an hour. Nuts. It was such a blast to see my first ball game, and my brother generously explained the rules patiently. (Except when I asked multiple times if it would go into overtime. He would close his eyes and shake his head slowly saying, "Extra innings. They're called extra innings.") My Flickr photos, including 25 shots of Ichiro-san's butt, here. 

All in all, a really awesome time. Can we do it again this weekend?

Twice Today

Dear XXXXXXXX Bank, 

Thank you for contacting me today regarding the previously referenced position. I appreciate the opportunity to share my background and experience with you. I understand that you have found a candidate whose qualifications more closely match the requirements of the position and that you will not be including me further in the recruiting process.

I find it somewhat surprising that I wasn't chosen for the position given the fact that I did this position for your Bank ten years ago. However, I understand that things change, and I guess they have with me as well, as I wouldn't work for your shitty, federally bailed-out asses again if you paid me in raw cookie dough. 

While I do have fond memories of working seven days a week for months on end and getting paid peanuts, accepting a position at this time wouldn't allow me to maintain my current schedule of near-constant introspection, late night TV, and Twitter trolling. 

Thank you for your kind consideration. Please suck it.

Sincerely, 

LSL

The One Where I Meet Internet People

I was mildly excited to run into Philly D, of the Philip DeFranco Nation, in Powell's the other day. So excited that when I noticed him I smacked him on the shoulder. Hard. Twice.

He told me I was the most assertive fan he'd met on his entire road trip. Oops.

(We all know how this goes. That ridiculous and unflattering picture of me will disappear very, very soon . . . )

Also, I had dinner with GeekGirl and IronFist last week after the David Sedaris reading. It was fun to hang with the cool kids. And I didn't hit either of them.

Yes! Maybe.

I'm trying to say "yes" to the universe a lot lately. It's something I'm consciously working on and even enjoying. (I think my secret hope is that the universe will start frickin saying yes to me, too. Can the universe be manipulated? Is it wise to try?) 

My surfing instructor, Jules, who basically I want to be, gave me two pieces of homework after my lesson a few weeks ago. The first was to say yes (actually, YES!) to everything the universe handed me. We talked through my personality and the huge transition that I'm going through, and where I'm at in relation to all of that. (You didn't know that surfing instructors are therapists, did you?) We agreed that I'm in a hyper-growth period and that I'm craving new experiences to help me gain a frame of reference for my new life. I was excited about the homework; I'm pretty adventurous and generally meet challenges with enthusiasm. Since my lesson I've tried to be aware of new chances to do that, and I've been saying Yes, Uh-hu, Wahooey! to things that have come my way. 

The second assignment Jules gave me was to f*ck up everything I did for a month. Blink. Blink, blink. Huh? It gave me chills just thinking about it. F*ck up everything? On purpose? I actually felt like she should get a talking-to for even suggesting it. Why would anyone want to mess things up? I mess up enough when I'm trying to do things right. Hell, I'm trying to do everything right. Just right. All the time. I'm trying to do things exactly right so that I can blend in and minimize the attention drawn to myself, and most of all not rock the boat. (I'll give you a minute to wonder how I got this crazy. Ok, time to move on.)

So since my lesson I've been spending a lot of time thinking about that assignment and wondering what it would look like to do it. What would it mean for me to f*ck up everything? How will I know when I've done it? Is it even possible to complete that kind of a task? And then I started thinking, I can do this. I can totally do this. Actually, I bet I could be the very best f*cker-uper there ever was! I could do it better than anyone ever has, and when I go back and tell Jules about my progress, I bet she'll tell me that I'm amazing and that no one has ever f*cked up things like I have!

Sigh. This week I went to a volunteer orientation session at the local AIDS support organization, and as folks wandered in the room they passed out name tags for us to fill out and wear to facilitate mingling. It was a great group of folks and mingle we did. As the Volunteer Coordinator corralled us back into a circle and got started on the agenda items she said, "Before we begin I just have to say, LSL, you have beautiful handwriting. You guys, look at LSL's name tag. I wish everyone had handwriting like that." Click. Monster unleashed. Inside I thought "Yes! Eat it, bitches!" And then I realized that I was excited because I just got an A in name tag writing. 

And the sad thing? Sadder than all this? Is that when I wrote that name tag I was disappointed in myself for just a second because I did it kind of sloppily. Have you ever in your whole life known anyone who needed to f*ck up more than me?