Back from the Brink

I almost died this weekend. Perhaps, that is an exaggeration but I blacked out at least twice on my way from the kitchen to my room early Saturday morning after the most unforgettable night of developing a "special relationship with my toilet" (thanks, A-M).

I’m blaming the almonds that my mother sent me though it could have easily been the peanut butter sandwich or veggie chili that I ate Friday. I’ve had food poisoning once before. It was about three years ago as a result of bad food/water at a work retreat in West Virginia. On that occasion, several people got sick. This time, it was just me. It was lonely not having anyone to commiserate with. Thankfully, I had just gone to the library and I was well-stocked with movies and books to comfort and distract me from my digestive tract. Floyd was a lifesaver as well.

A bruise on my shoulder, an almost healed-cut on my lip, and slight stomach unease are the only reminders of this weekend's unfortunate turn of events. I am still upset that all the glorious plans I had for this weekend were shattered. As part of my carpe diem in 2010 outlook, I had packed my weekend with an improv class, girl’s night, sleepover, volunteer opportunity, and NGA movie. Needless to say, I didn’t leave my house all weekend other than to crawl to the store for Gatorade.

I am thankful that I’m alive. I totally could have hit my head when I blacked out and fell (in the living room and on the stairs!). I was all very alarming. I am very thankful for all that my body does to protect me from harm. And even more thankful that it has the power to heal.

Normalcy Restored

I'm feeling much better today. I was so disinterested at work on Thursday and Friday, spending most of my time researching flights back to Isla and other warm, far away places. My anxiety peaked Saturday night until I had a long talk with Floyd. Now I'm back in my routine and feeling more relaxed and upbeat about what another year in D.C. will bring.

My conversation with Floyd was a much needed reality check. He pointed to the flaw in me letting "arbitrary" deadlines dictate my life. When I was 18, I wanted to be married by 25, have a house by 28, and kid or two by 30. When I hit 25, I relunctantly pushed back the timeline by 5 years, and at 28, I've anxiously pushed the timeline back by 10. It's easier, perhaps, for Floyd as a guy to avoid thinking in such a way, as he isn't bound by a biological clock and the double-standard that he'll be perceived as more handsome with age while I'll just continue to wrinkle and sag.

But he is right about one thing. I need to do away with my anxiety about turning 30 - and the value that I place on what I have or haven't accomplished by then.

While I still stand ready to "carpe diem" this year, I am less anxious to drop out or run away to experience the exotic and new "before I get old". There are still opportunities and challenges left for me in D.C., and I should earnestly take another year to seek them out. So that when (if ever) the time comes for me to leave D.C., I can leave in peace and without regret.

New Year, New Resolutions

Ah, this is my first post of the New Year. It is very probable that this will be my last year of blogging. I’ve been quite distracted by other things during the past year and I apologize for not blogging as regularly as I once did.

The holiday break passed well. I feel refreshed and relaxed though, perhaps, even more distracted than I was when I left.

Atlanta
I enjoyed hanging with my family and friends in Atlanta. It was the longest that I’ve been at home since I was in college. It is sad to recognize that I don’t plan on being home that much during the upcoming years. My life isn’t in Atlanta. Given my professional interest in federal policy, I have no reason to live in Atlanta. And I don't plan on moving home until my mother and aunt's age necessitates my presence. Thankfully, my mother accepts this and is content with my annual/semi-annual visits home--supporting my freedom to live where and how I choose.

Isla de Mujeres
I had a blast in Mexico with my friends. It was possibly one of the most restful and uplifting vacations I’ve ever had. The weather was milder than we had hoped it would be but that didn’t damper our spirits. The beach was beautiful, the food was great, and everyone was friendly. My friends and I made a pact to return to Isla before we turned 50, but I hope to return later this year—assuming that one of my friends heads back for the discounted scuba lessons that she was promised. Most importantly, the trip made me anxious for more international travel and recommitted me to visiting my friends in London.

D.C.
As you can imagine, it was quite a shock to return to the coldness that is DC after lounging on the beach. I returned to work anxious for my next vacation but more than that anxious for a decision about my life. A change will come this year. I’m itching for a new challenge and I’m feeling a little wary getting sucked further into the Hill and the security of having a satisfying federal job, when I long to live in NYC and abroad.

Today, I dug up my old Peace Corps papers. I don’t care to go through the application process again, at least not now. But I am toying with the idea (again) of working abroad in some capacity. This usurps my desire to act—though it does encourage me to make the most out of the next year in that regard, in addition to spending well my time in D.C. To this extent, I’ve created a list of goals for 2010 in addition to a bucket list on 43 Things. I hope that it will help me keep in sight my desires for the next twelve months in addition to my long-term wishes that often get buried in the day-to-day.

If I had my way, this year would be my last in D.C. and on the Hill. It just seems so odd and perhaps, unwise to want to dropout for a bit given the economy and the fact that hundreds, even thousands, of people would kill for my job. Not to mention the fact that I love my job and find it rewarding. And I love and am thankful for the life that I've been able to build in D.C. D.C. has treated me well and who knows what sort of disappointment awaits me in NYC, Miami, or abroad.

Yet, I can’t seem to fight for long the desire to challenge myself and to finish my twenties (16 months and counting til 30) with a bang. The most important thing for me always is to seek happiness and peace in whatever form I see fit. And that's what I will strive to do.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I’m headed to Atlanta tomorrow. I am looking forward to spending the next 1.5 weeks home. I can’t wait to see my friends and my family, sleep in my old bed, and take a bubble bath in my own bathroom. I hope that I’m not too bored, but it will be a major adjustment from being independent in the city to being car-dependent in the suburbs. I’ll have my novel to edit, some books to read, and a bicycle waiting for me--which should be plenty. Beside working on my novel, I am committed to getting a bit of exercise in before the big reveal in Mexico. Oh, to have my toes in white sand and to feel a salty breeze in my face.

Isla de Mujeres – the destination of my first trip in 2010 – looks like paradise from all the pictures. I’m packing a little light reading, Pride and Prejudice (!), but my real goals are to get a massage on the beach, do some sunset yoga, eat lots of Mexican food, and daydream. I'm going for my friend's 30th birthday. Perhaps, I should also celebrate my 30th in a big way (thankfully, I still have 1.5 years).

Although I’ve had a fair break during the past month due to all the vacation days I’ve been using, I still crave quality time away from the hustle and bustle of DC and the near-constant buzzing of my blackberry. And, it’ll be nice to get away from my roommates (especially the subltetter and the infamous mouse family). I will miss Gray Cat, and I hope s/he hangs on until I return.

A Pat on the Back

I started working on a chick-lit novel during the fall of 2007. I am happy to say that tonight I finished the first draft. It's almost 34,000 words--about half of which were added during the past month.

I don't know how I feel about the story at this point. It is silly, simple, and purposeless in many ways. But that is how I feel about most chick-lit. If you are lucky, you come across a book that gives you a gem of wisdom about life. But mostly, it is a marvelous, often mindless, diversion from the everyday.

Regardless of how meaningful or meaningless my story is, I am proud that I followed through and finally finished it. That is something I can celebrate, even if it languishes on my thumbdrive for eternity.

I have two more weeks to add at least another 60,000 words of descriptions, backstory, and dialogue. And I want to strengthen the hook. That is certainly a "heavy lift" but I'm thinking that it will be a fun and rewarding challenge.

Vampire Romance

I'm pretty good at making excuses. I've been too busy this year to write frequent posts, too lazy to work on my bye-bye arms, and too poor to travel beyond ATL. But I think my excuse for not being on track for finishing a draft of my novel by the end of the year is valid.

As I was swept away by the Twilight saga, I have be taken in by the Sookie Stackhouse series. Once skeptical and condescending, I am now a convert and undeniably hooked. The series is just so fun. It is entertaining with a fine mix of mystery, the supernatural, comedy, and romance. I tell myself that I am doing research for my book. While it true that I am getting ideas from the author--especially from how she has developed the characters and her style during the series, that is no excuse for choosing (most nights) to read instead of write.

I must write. I have about 3 weeks to finish the final two scenes before going back and to add fluff and fill out the back story. I guess that is the fun part but right now, nothing is more fun than finding out if Sookie ends up with Eric, Bill, Quinn, or someone else. I can only hope to develop my story and style so that readers can have an escape and an expression that is just as satisfying.

I simply must finish because my new year's creative resolution of acting awaits. I just hope that I don't get sidetracked by the other series I've heard about, Anita Blake. I love that I'm slightly branching out in terms of genres but I realize that at some point I will have to return to the classics, my home.

A shout-out to Organica for reminding me I have readers who enjoy the distraction that is my blog as much as I do.

Subletters Suck

My roommate, who will be out of town for work and vacation all of December, decided to get a subletter for her room. I was fine with her getting a subletter and very hands-off during her search process. I figured that it would only be for one month and as long as the person didn’t steal our stuff or trash the house, I could live with whoever she chose. Boy, was I wrong.

It’s only been a few days, but I am itching for our subletter to leave. I don’t know why he irks me so much. It’s probably the fact that he’s interrupted the house’s routine—my routine. No longer can I come home from work to a quiet house before my other roommates make it home around 730. He’s always there. No longer can I sit in front of the cable TV and eat my dinner. He’s always there watching basketball. Tuesday and yesterday, I asked for his help in picking up the mouse traps. He declined. I’m proud that I was able successfully got rid of the smashed critter on my own but I was furiously puzzled that he wasn’t helpful. Isn’t that what males do for squeamish females like me?

I also find him weird. On the first two nights, I tried to make small talk. It was so awkward that I eventually gave up. I’m not the most sociable person out there, so I won’t talk just for the sake of making you feel comfortable and welcome if you are not taking the bait.

He and my other male roommate seem to get along fine. So it’s just me with the problem (per usual…).

I am a creature of habit and familiarity. Anything or anyone that diverges from my sense of normalcy tends to be instantly disliked, distrusted, and even hated (I’ll comment my reaction to my new workmates some other time). I’ve already started counting down the days until he departs and my old roommate returns. I hope that I am able to keep my cool and my distance until them.

"Take a chance you stupid…"

I’m going to take control in 2010 and start following my dreams. That’s my resolution. For the past year, I’ve been safe, preparing and being inspired. Now, it’s time to gamble a bit.

The less risky form that my resolution will take is to travel more. I already have a short trip to Mexico scheduled for early January, and I am committed to visiting two friends on their own turf in MA and NC. And of course, there is the trip to London and beyond that I keep talking about.

The potentially riskier dream that has only recently entered my crazy head is acting. As you know, I’ve been looking for a creative outlet and I think that acting is the right fit for me. On a side note, I’ve decided that I will finish a first draft of my novel by the end of the year, so that I can wholly commit creatively to acting.

I’ve already check out a book from the library (!) and talked to a coworker who is an experienced actor. I want to give it a serious try so I’m going to divert some of my savings to getting headshots and to taking a few acting classes (starting with the Actor's Center). I’ve always wanted to be an extra and I think that I should give actual acting a try as well. It will be a diverting hobby that, with a lot of hard work and a little luck, could lead to something even more fulfilling than I could ever imagine.

I know that it is a pipe dream to even begin to think that I could be a real actress. I don’t know if I have any real talent. And I know that thousands of people enroll in classes or move to LA and NYC every year in hopes of becoming the next big thing. What makes me any different? Perhaps, nothing. But why not throw my hat in the ring—or at least train as if I would? Now, I don’t plan on quitting my day job and moving to LA. But I think that this new path will lead to a lot of interesting experiences and stories that I’ll be able to share when I’m a content soccer mom.

I look forward to telling my mom over the holidays that I want to be an actress after months of appearing set on my current career track. The conversation should be sort of like when I said I was going to quit my secure nonprofit job to join the Peace Corps. I know that she will ultimately be supportive but it will be interesting to see how she reacts to yet another of my revelations. It’s crazy that I’ve become increasingly flighty with age. I was always the dependable, straight-laced daughter who had everything planned out. Now that I’m older and recognize that life is a bit more random, I want to take advantage of my youth and freedom to be selfish and pursue a few of my child-hood/ish dreams.

Satisfied

I saw New Moon today, and I can't help but feel happy. I enjoyed the movie as did my friend--probably the only person out there who hasn't read the books but L-O-V-E loves the movies.

The audience was mainly comprised of teenage girls but there were a few 20-something couples and girlfriend pairs in the mix. The previews reflected the intended audience of the movie (a vampire flix, a robpat flix and a bunch about romance)--which made me squirm (gosh, I'm too old for this, right?). The twihards in the crowd were entertaining with their gasps, giggles, and groans. At times, like when Rob and shirt less Taylor first appeared, I wanted to join them.

Of course, there were moments when the movie was a little too forced and Rob's, Kristen's, Taylor's acting came up a bit short. But overall, the acting, script and direction was much better than in the first movie. I loved the actor who played Aro. He was great. It is so interesting how one can capture (or try to capture) the essence of a character that is limitedly written on paper.

This brings up my latest resolution. I want to try my hand at acting. I only took one acting class in high school and in college, but I guess I've always loved or at least was always fascinated by the performing arts. I can't sing or dance but maybe I can act.

If nothing else, it will push me out of my comfort zone and provide the creative outlet that I've been craving now that I've taken a vacation from writing a book. I just feel that I might have something to share.

We'll see how that goes. It is just a silly idea now but I hope that with the right knowledge, practice, and opportunities, my creative side will finally have a chance to be shared.

WaPost on Twihards

Ah, this WaPost article captures how I truly feel about the Twilight saga.

I'm almost done re-reading book three. Then, it is on to book four, rewatching Twilight the movie, and finally, watching the new movie, New Moon... Hopefully, at that point the obsession will subside--at least until the next movie comes out this summer.

On a side note, I am smitten with Rob Pattinson. I actually found myself giggling when he was on the Today show this morning. Goodness, this series really has made me revert into a teenage girl.

Of course, I realize that I'm way too old for such a silly celebrity crush. But, I find him fascinating and disarming. I guess I haven't felt that way about a celebrity since the days of Jared Leto as Jordan Catellano. It's a little refreshing.

Mouse Saga Sidebar

Last night was better in terms of the mouse situation because a) I was exhausted; b) all my roommates were home and making noise; and c) I've learned how to sleep with the lights and Univision on.

Here is something a friend sent me that made me laugh. Perhaps, this could be considered a humane mouse trap or at least a more respectful one.

Mouse update

I have officially lost my mind. I did not sleep last night. Whenever I would finally get settled, I would hear fidgetting in the corner of my room and jump up in alarm and grab something to throw. My mom told me to block the possible hole behind the radiator to bar the mouse's reentry. Unfortunately, that probably just trapped him in my room and made him freak out more.

By 3 am I gave up on sleep. I turned on all the lights (cfls, but still an inexcusable global warming impact) and the television. To distract myself, I did more mouse research followed by a quick kayak search of hotel rates. Unbelievably, I managed to stay up until 6 by watching univision and looking a clothes online (though I was derangedly jumping at every noise and shadow I sensed). Then, I finally calmed down and there was no more rustling. By 7, my roommate was up making noise and I was able to drift off to sleep before my alarm woke me up 30 minutes later.

As you can imagine, I'm tired and in a sour mood. I spent the morning inspecting the corners of my room and cleaning the kitchen (where mice definitely frequent). I am off to find traps for my room now and I am debating whether I will attempt another night of craziness (maybe I should buy ear plugs--though I guess that wouldn't curb my mouse dreams). Or I will request a corner in Shimmy-Shimmy house. Or I will break down and get a hotel room like my mother advised (she's even ready to come up and move me into a new place). I love my home but I am a wreck. That is unacceptable. I doubt sleeping on a friend's floor or a fluffy hotel bed will give me any peace of mind when I know that a mouse/mice are moving into my sanctuary.

Mice

Here I am sitting in my room afraid to turn off the lights, afraid of bedtime, afraid of quiet. I wish I was on my way to NC tonight (sorry A-M!).

I knew that it was only a matter of time. It's getting cooler outside and my housemates and I have been so busy that we've been less than careful about scrubbing down the counters and sweeping the floors. That is no excuse, but it is an explanation.

So, my house officially has a mouse problem. An exterminator came on Wednesday and noted that he found myriad holes near our house. He said that there was recently a major extermination a few houses down. I guess the whole family packed up and moved in. He said he didn't want to do anything until he talked to our landlady because it would be a major job ($$$). That made me worry but it wasn't unexpected.

For a while, I've heard scurrying between the walls. I thought that I was going crazy but it has woken me up on several occasions (horrid nightmares!). Finally, my roommate heard them as well. Now, I am certain of what I hear: a metal door (?) opening and closing, followed by scurrying in the walls in my room and in the ceiling. I can only imagine that one day the ceiling will fall, revealing a thousand beady eyes.

I saw a mouse in the kitchen earlier this week and now I fear that its cousin is in my bedroom. Although I cleaned my room earlier this week, I left a slightly exposed bar of chocolate out last night. I didn't wrap it as carefully as I should have given that our place is probably a multi-mouse family home. Today, I found my beautiful Ghirardelli Midnight Delight gnawed at the end. Gross. I believe that it came through the hole behind the radiator. Given all that I've read on the web about mice, it doesn't seem like much can deter them. They can squeeze into spaces a quarter of an inch wide, leap into the air, and crawl up vertical spaces. No wonder it was able to get at the delectable treat on my nightstand.

I am tempted to crash at a friend's house or check into a hotel tonight. If only Gray Cat wasn't the carrier of an unknown infection, he'd be sitting right next to me right now. I am utterly grossed out, afraid, and angry at myself. If only I had wrapped that chocolate bar last night. I've broken my no-food-in-the-bedroom rule over the past months and now I am facing the consequences. My roommates eat in their rooms, but they've never reported any problems. Just me.

At the same time, this problem is a whole house problem. We've had mice in the kitchen since I arrived and my landlady recalled an infestation years ago owing to the basement tenant's storage of many bags of dry dog food.

So why the fuck is our landlady taking so long about hiring someone to destroy every creature that has more than two legs in our house (especially now that the exterminator expects a major infestation)? I believe in humane killing but in this situation--where I know a successful extermination in our house will merely result in emigration to a neighbor's house--I say bring on the poison. Kill them all.

Okay, now back to making lots of noise and debating whether I should sleep on my futon or a friend's floor. The problem is that I can't sleep on someone's floor or in a hotel until my landlady finally decides to hire an exterminator and he is able to work his magic on them.

Ugh.

Chill-ax

Today is the last day of my self-imposed house arrest. I have been so tired and overwhelmed about work and I figured that this recess week was a good time to take some deserved days off.

It has been a great vacation from work and worries. I caught up on sleep, did countless loads of laundry, cleaned my room, watched movies, danced to too loud music, finally made mexican food, and read a lot (mainly twilight again).

I am a bit restless to return to work and that routine. I really do like my job and the people I get to work with even if there is a tendency for burnout.

I think I will take more random days off in december. It is always good to recharge your batteries and take time off to just be yourself. It's something that I hadn't done in awhile, and that I hope to do more regularly now.

Twi-hard?

Last night, I finished the last book in the Twilight series. Reading the books has consumed my life during the past two weeks. I shunned outside activities, stayed up late and woke up early almost everyday just so that I could read a few more pages. I put aside the disturbing but equally captivating book that I had been reading, The Picture of Dorian Gray. As soon as I am able to move forward from my lingering thoughts and unresolved questions about the Twilight story, I shall return to Dorian Gray. I just wonder when and if my brain will be able to move from Twilight.

It is funny that just as I shunned Harry Potter for years, I was reluctant to read Twilight. But as I was doubtful that a "kids book about wizards" would be able to truly capture me, I was doubtful that a silly teeny-bopper, fantasy book would even come close to having the beauty and complexity of my favorite Austen and Hardy classics. But something—a combination of being hooked on the CW’s rather tame Vampire Diaries and the encouragement of friends—convinced me to start reading the books. I am so happy that I did.

I am in love with the story of Twilight. Sure, it may never be as close to my heart as Persuasion. But, something about the idea of love, true love, being the purpose for and quest of your life has filled me with joy. I was engaged by the love story, by the conflict, and by the supernatural world Stephenie Meyer created. Of course, like many, I cringed at the incomplete editing and other flaws that appeared in the book (It was interesting to watch how her writing and voice became stronger over the series). But after the first few chapters, it no longer mattered. The story had a way of sucking me in and making me anxious to discover the resolution of Bella’s story and in an odd way, it charged me to find resolution in my own life.

This means that it made me think a lot about Floyd. Wondering if Floyd is my Edward, my true love. But I’ll save that for anther day. As I will also think later about how the book and Meyer’s somewhat unplanned ascent to authorhood has inspired me to write again. I’m not so deranged to think that a beloved story of my own will come in a dream, but I am excited about the possibility that I, too, could create characters and a story as vivid and satisfying.

For now, I give two thumbs up for the Twilight saga. It is intoxicating, frightening, and enjoyable. I look forward to reading the books again, less anxiously, so that I can have an even greater appreciation and understanding of how the author was able to weave such a beautiful story. So though, I’m not quite a Twi-hard, I am deeply reverent of how her story has moved me.