This American Life

So, I asked for responsibility, and I got it. I have 28 things on my afternoon to do list. I have 300 resumes to go through and choose who to conduct interviews with, 3 ads to write, and 40 invoices and checks to reconcile today, among a million other calls and emails to write and return. Yesterday, the day I got to fire someone for the first time (maybe a little too overly apologetic on my part), I received 7 emails between 5 and 5:30 (my end time) each asking me to take care of something by the end of the day. Ugh. All I could do is come home and crash and zone out in front of a movie. But I do really like being busy all day long, it's so much better than watching the clock.

My parents came to town and were so nice and bought me furniture and we ate good food and I got to show them around my new favourite city. It made me miss them and Vancouver even more. I will actually be in Vancouver in December.

Although I love Portland, if everything goes to plan, I may be jumping ship and moving to a sunnier climate 2009. Possibly. Settling down is way overrated, apparently. If I think back to where I thought I'd be at my old very advanced age when I was 15, to be truthful, I thought I'd be an internationally published writer living in New York or Paris in love with a man about 6 feet tall with dark hair and an accent. Ideally someone who could both appreciate arthouse films and who could also help me move. I also thought that this career thing would be all sorted out by now. But, funny thing happens, time passes much faster than I mature. And my age doesn't feel as old as I thought it would be. And funnier, life doesn't turn out how you think it will.

But, there are some upsides to my life. I've had a lot of adventures and made a lot of lemonade out of all of the proverbial lemons. For example, I know am handy with a screwdriver and wrench, thanks to my habit of dating musicians who aren't so inclined toward manual labour. I may have to carry my own groceries, but, yes, I am quite self-sufficient. We take it for granted now, but when you think about all those post-feminist years, it is actually somewhat gratifying to know that I am self-sufficient and could be for the rest of my life. I do like that I can pay my own bills and know how to change an oil can.


I could be moving to one of 8 cities in 3 countries in the upcoming year. But, you know, that's all dependent on people not turning down my school applications. Applying to grad school is kind of stressful, because you know your whole life is on hold and up in the air until they say yes. But....it's also kind of exciting.

But I do get easily excited.

Right now, I'm excited about my imminent sewing lessons, which will hopefully improve my imperfect technique, and I'm also really excited about signing up for a running club and road races. One of the more surprising things about me, if you haven't known me in that venue, is that I'm fairly competitive. It's just how I was raised by my Dad. I grew up with the mentality that you could never miss practice or games because of illness and that you should train, basically, until you were on the verge of collapse. If I'm training with someone else I'll basically kill myself rather than give up since I hate losing. When I start a workout regime, I workout obsessively until I can barely move my body and basically stop eating anything other than tofu, nuts, fruits, quinoa, and vegetables. I'm just starting to throw myself into another period of training. It's compulsive. Man, I'm such a dork.

When Paul came snowboarding with me last year for the first time, I think he was a bit shocked by the fact that I was better and stronger than him. I spent my entire life playing sports competitively, before the past few years, and I do miss that aspect of my life. Although I've kept fairly active since then, I'm never really motivated unless there's some kind of competition to motivate me, so I think I'm going to start training for road racing. I've also considered triathlons, except I'd have to seriously work on the cycling speed.