It’s been 4 months and 3 days since my last confession.

Let’s just skip the news about terror. It needs to stop. It probably won’t because the answer is kindness and hard work at the ground level. Let’s all agree that no one is radicalized by being treated with too much kindness, empathy and compassion and that the world would be infinitely better if everyone looked at one another as potential friends or family and then treated them as such. I may be a radical, but I’m a radical that thinks that all this would stop if we all embraced our oneness and accepted that some people will believe slightly different things spiritually and politically and even have different tastes in music and clothes. Deep down under it all, though, we’re all just fleshy sacks that need to live day to day by loving one another… even, as my yoga teacher said, the annoying ones.

But this post isn’t about that. This post is about my ordinary life, mostly untouched by the terror that had affected so many families in the past 48 hours. Life in my tiny bubble is mostly good. I’ve had a headache off and on for about 3 days and I slept 10 hours the other night out of what I can only guess was pure exhaustion. I’ve been busy. My sister has a baby shower coming up (because she’s pregnant with what will be the coolest baby ever) and I’m still plugging away at the school thing. (I’ve only taken 2 classes this semester. Last semester I took 3 online courses and it was the worst decision I’ve made in a long time.) I’m still seeing that wonderful guy who saved the kittens four months and 3 days ago. In fact, I’m nearly 100% moved in with him. Most of my stuff now lives at his (our) place. There are still boxes overtaking the living room and my yoga room is still unfinished, but all that’s left at my place is essentially junk, my bed, my bike and a wicker chair. (I don’t want to think about it. I have until the end of the month to get that stuff moved here.)

The guy is still pretty wonderful. He says things every day that make me feel like the luckiest girl alive. (He also says things that make me think I’m dating my father… and today I was subjected to some horrible cartoon which very quickly brought my headache back, but I suppose these are the dangers of living with someone.) He’s so observant and he tells me I’m beautiful almost every day. I still can’t believe how different he is from all the other ones. I feel lucky but also like I deserve this kind of guy.

We just hit our 5 month mark, so maybe the shit will hit the fan at 6 months.

I’ve been slacking a little on the yoga, so every time I do it (at least once a week, usually two or three times) my body feels wrecked for two days. This weekend I did yoga on both Saturday and Sunday (today). In fact, I just got back from an arm balances and inversions workshop and I feel really good. Sore as can be, but in a really good way. I’m hoping to to yoga more often than not during the week — maybe Monday, Tuesday and Thursday — but school and life responsibilities sometimes get in the way. My desire to do handstand one day needs to start overcoming my drive to kick back and relax.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in the “To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced life” phase of Eat, Pray Love. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself when I come home and make dinner, pull on sweatpants and sit down to watch some Orphan Black with this guy.

This guy.

That reminds me… I’ve also gotten into comic books graphic novels. Picture books Graphic novels are so much fun. Granted I have not read them all and I’ve generally stuck to suggestions from the boy, but he’s steered me pretty well. The first series I fell in love with is the Silver Surfer series by Dan Slott. And then I fell in love with Bitch Planet by Kelly Sue DeConnick (they have real feminist essays at the end and they’re great!), Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples, and Sex Criminals by Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky. All but the Silver Surfer series is adult-centric, but they’re all wonderful and the art is fantastic.

I’ve rambled on long enough and I think I’ve given you the quick and detailed update of my life lately. I hope you are all doing well and enjoying life and I hope you are far removed from the harshest of our world’s realities. <3

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Re-reading books and other Goodreads cheats.

I had the realization the other day that I should probably be including all the crappy ass textbooks I’m reading in my Goodreads titles because they’re consuming SO MUCH of my time and my professors generally make us read through the entire book because, well, apparently I’m paying them to tell me to read books. Terrible ones, in some cases — ones that SHOUT AT THE READER IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND THAT bolding is also an acceptable way to draw attention to important sentences.

The problem with this is… I can’t remember all my textbook titles. They might all be on my Amazon purchase history. That’s probably a good place to start.

Another issue I have is my desire to re-read some of my more favorite books. I can’t re-list the books. They’re likely already listed in my “read” list, so they won’t really count towards my unofficial goal to read 20 books by the end of the year. (This probably won’t happen.)

Audiobooks? Do they count? What about graphic novels/comics? Do the images cancel out the legit reading?

Overthinking ridiculous things like Goodreads is what I do when I’m not thinking about communications law, public relations or the relationship between the media and society. (Side note: The Media and Society will probably be my most interesting class. The public relations class will probably be the most painful.)

I had a really great idea for a blog post about how unfairly millennials (and whatever the newest generation is) are viewed considering all the shit we have to put up with — ridiculously high school debt, lack of jobs (even with a 4-year degree) that pay an actual living wage, the idea that we’re slackers because we’re not “go-getter” yuppies and prefer to enjoy what we do… or at least give us the time and opportunity to do what we love to do… it’s all a lot of shit. So much shit.

Then I listened to the F*ck That meditation and I breathed out all the bullshit and I lost the post idea in the ether. Oh well, it’s been done before (image posted by postsecret).

946875_10151645467815240_1119659986_nAn image is worth a thousand words — even when there are words on it. As a millennial, I do find some of the younger millennials annoying, but this is mostly for their music and their use of over-sized headphones that make them look like faux audiophiles.

I mean, they probably think my earbuds and my lack of e-reader use makes me a weirdo, so I guess we’re even.

I did just buy an e-book. Maybe I’m becoming more legit. Too legit to quit. Shit.

My thoughts are too disjointed. I should probably not be blogging right now.

But I’ll push onward.

Yesterday, I was in Rehoboth Beach, DE. The 3 hour and 30 minute drive turned into a 6 hours one. We arrived around 1:30 or 2 pm (I can’t remember any more because I was starting to become delirious) and then drove around for-everrrrr to find a place to park. We got custard, coffee, put our toes in the ocean, and did a little shopping before we hit up Dogfish Head Brew Pub.

That place is so amazing. The beer is great, but the food is just as good. The calamari, the crab cake sandwich, the scrapple burger topped with an egg.

All. Divine.

Then we drove home. That got us back around 2 am. I’m exhausted and filled to the brink with calories. I can’t imagine eating anything else, but also I want to eat the left over Chinese food in Matt’s fridge.

In other news, I’m kitty sitting for the next 2 weeks. I was worried that I somehow lost the kittens before I even opened the door, but was relieved to find that the cats have taken up residence under the bed. I lured one out with snuggles. The other is still not convinced that I am not there to make its life hell.

He’ll come out eventually. He’ll have to eat and drink at some point. Maybe he’ll even start to trust me in a week and a half.

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Let’s talk about…

I need to get back into my writing about modern art. I miss it and there’s a lot of really weird stuff that occasionally pops up on my facebook feed. Beautiful quits featuring still shots from amateur porn (and they’re truly beautiful and well crafted) feminist artists who try to make people view periods with less disgust (like the crew who wore white pants on their period and didn’t use any kind of feminine hygeine products to sop up the mess).

Since I do not have the money to go out and buy white pants to stain, I will not be participating in that sort of protest art.

My last project for my topics of multiculturalism class was a 5 paragraph essay about how art is political. I have never in my life been so sad about not having to write an entire paper on a topic. I could have written 5 pages on how the invention of the movable type printing press was revolutionary on a religious/political level. I could have written pages on the evil genius that was the Hitler/Goebbels propaganda game, or written pages about the work of the anonymous artist, Banksy. (Is Banksy still totally anonymous and if so, how have they been able to keep their identity under wraps in today’s social media driven world? Are people still secretly fans of mystery?)

I have one more week of break left. I have two books I want to get through before it ends. I should be reading one now, but I thought blogging was a better use of my time. Also, there is a very cute puppy curled up at my feet and sometimes I get distracted by her cuteness. How can anyone get anything done with cute animals around them? 

I have a yoga confession to make… I haven’t done yoga since Friday morning. I took Friday off as my floating holiday and got day drunk with the above puppy’s equally adorable owner. I’ll get back on the saddle on Monday. It still feels weird to skip more than a day at a time. Like the yoga police might show up and remind we what a slacker I’ve been.

But to remain balanced, you have to become unbalanced from time to time, right? Wasn’t that the gist of Eat, Pray, Love? So I’ve been spending some time kissing this guy’s face. It’s fun and I slept incredibly well last night, even though (or maybe because) I was wrapped up in a bear hug all night. I wasn’t wrapped up with an actual bear, but rather a real, human man. Being in a literal bear hug would be terrifying and I doubt I’d sleep at all in that situation.

I ordered my books for my upcoming semester. Public Relations, The Media and Society, and Communications Law. I rented the PR book because buying it would have cost $150. Renting cost $30. Communications Law sounds horrible and it also had a very pricey textbook, so that got rented too. Media and Society’s book was $7 with the shipping.

The  I just hope they all arrive before my classes start. That part stresses me out. I have one more week of being a real grown up with spare time. I’m hoping to spend some of it wrapped up with this boy and also getting coffee with friends and doing leisurely, fun reading rather than the required stuff. I should definitely do a lot more yoga. I want to be able to show everyone up and get both my legs behind my head in Mia’s Saturday morning class. I’m an egotistical yogi like that and I use to be able to do it when I was a kid. I made myself into baskets to be carried around the room by my dad. I was much much lighter then.

[4 hours (or so) pass] 

Well, shit. That super adorable boy I’ve been kissing noticed that my neighbors found kittens in a storage shed behind my apartment building and so we took them to a shelter. To steal a line from the kids these days, “I can’t even.”

I’m going to read and finish up this bottle of wine that was opened last night. This was a good weekend.

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Orange isn’t my new black.

My official first day of summer break was yesterday. It was wonderful. Well, working wasn’t great — I was pretty unfocused — but the rest of the day/evening/night was super fun. I had an opportunity to go to Knoebels Amusement Park for the first time in probably 15 years and I got to go with this pretty cool dude who drug me into an old fashioned photo booth. (We had to wait a full 2 minutes and 30 seconds for the black and white photos. They were wet when they were dispensed AND they smelled like sulfur, so that was pretty legit.) Oh, and I got so many puppy kisses. It is nearly impossible to be sad when your face is being licked all over by a small dog.

And then, after having a pretty damn good Saturday morning, I went to yoga and rocked a bunch of arm balances. My birds of paradise was pretty awful, but I’m choosing to ignore that today. My legs are just overworked lately.

Now that my break has started, I’ve begun my Netflix and reading binge. Tonight I decided to work on some crafty stuff, so I chose Netflix. Everyone has been raving about how much they LOVE Orange is the New Black, so I decided I’d finally give it a shot, despite haaaaating the book.

The TV show isn’t for me either. I’m only two episodes into the season, but it still rubs me the wrong way. The (perceived) arrogance of book version Piper carried over to the TV series. Maybe it’s not arrogance — that’s probably not the right word. She seems to be humble bragging throughout the book. She’d talk about how much easier her prison life was, possibly because she was “nice” or white. Every so often, she’d throw in a statistic to highlight the plight of others in her book, and I know it’s a memoir, but it is so self centered.

In better news, I finished Christoper Moore’s “Serpent of Venice” and I only had to renew it one time! (Actually, I probably wouldn’t have had to renew it, but I was cutting it close and it made me nervous.) My current read, A. Lee Martinez’s “Divine Misfortune” was recommended to me by the pretty cool dude I spoke about earlier. So far I’m about 5 short chapters in, but it’s pretty great so far. I really do feel like the world’s slowest reader sometimes. Reading before bed… it’s hard to stay awake when you’re as tired as I usually am. Also on my short list of things to read: “Anita” by Keith Roberts (because it was lent to me on the condition that I absolutely protect it with my life) and “The Art of Social Media: Power Tips for Power Users” by Guy Kawasaki (lent to me also, but without the protective clause, though I’ll still protect it pretty fiercely). I’m debating whether the Kawasaki book should really be a class-break type read or something I should read while classes are in session at least. (It’s nonfiction, after all. Who reads non-fiction for fun?

I’m nearly falling asleep on my laptop here, so I’m going to log off and may come back and post more later. <3

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Miniature Superheroes and more.

I played around and created another lady tonight. I like her over the knee socks. I have a thing for over the knee socks... I should probably buy a pair.I spent my Monday in a half zombified state, cutting out tiny superheroes for work. Then I laminated them today… and cut them out again. They are freakin’ adorable and I think I might have the world’s greatest job. I mean, I got to create 12 superheroes using library staff input and HeroMachine 2.5. So much fun!

So here’s my plug — Summer Reading Club registration started yesterday! Sign up and read books, learn about heroes and take selfies with superheroes (real and imaginary). This year’s theme is “Every Hero Has a Story” and it’s pretty rad. There’s lots of great programming for kids, teens and adults too.

If you had told me last year at this time that I’d be getting paid to make super adorable library super heroes, I would have never ever in a million years believed you until it happened. Life can be so good. I’ve been spending a lot of my time lately feeling so incredibly lucky. I have amazing friends, the world’s best family, and I have a wonderful job. I’m just soaking up all the goodness while it’s good.

I’m on week 9 of 11 for this semester’s classes. The end is in sight and I’m both relieved and terrified about it. I have a crisis communications plan to write for my media relations class, a segment of poetry (gag me, I’m so bad at this) to create for my Topics in Multiculturalism class (on pay inequality), and… god only knows for photojournalism. We’re always off syllabus in that class and the assignments are always posted late.

I can’t wait for this semester to be over so I can have two weeks of hardcore relaxing before starting another 3-class semester for the Summer term. Hopefully I’ll be taking a beach vacation in September during my next two week break. (I don’t want to think about how far in the future that seems. It will be here before I know it.)

Can we also take a minute to acknowledge that ohmygod it’s JUNE already? (We’ll pass over the Mercury in Retrograde and Full Moon stuff. But believe me, traffic has been a nightmare lately and full moon always brings out the nut jobs.) How is it possible that nearly half of 2015 has flown by? Can I hit a pause button (preferably on a weekend)? Is there anything worth watching on Netflix in June? (I’ll have two weeks to Netflix and craft here shortly.)

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Yoga musings and more.

Hello my faithful readers. Though I blog infrequently, I think about doing it all the time. Life is crazy right now. I’m taking these three classes this semester and I’m taking three more next semester. Slowly chipping away at the stone that is Future Student Loan Payments.

I guess that’s not accurate. I’m actually adding concrete to my Quickly Forming Student Loan Debt. Maybe I ought to play the lottery. Being able to pay off my student loans quickly would be a dream.

But I digress… 3 classes is too many. I’ll continue the insanity for another 11 weeks after I survive this 11 weeks. (We’re starting week 8 tomorrow. The light is at the end of this tunnel.) I haven’t had much time for normal adult activities — like relaxing, getting drinks after work, trying to flirt with men in real life or having those blessed Netflix marathons. I’ve barely had time for yoga this week. (I hit the gym for cardio on Monday, did yoga on Tuesday and then skipped yoga Wednesday for Supper Club and Thursday to watch National Lampoon’s Vacation… and Friday was #hbgbyob night followed by a drink with my sister because I missed her face terribly.)

I finally had time for yoga on Saturday and it was a glorious, sweaty mess of a class. Seriously, these Saturday classes wring me out and make me clean. And smelly, but also clean. Yoga reminds me how important it is to feel things… even uncomfortable, ass-muscle-stretching things or emotionally off-putting things. Yoga has helped me embrace myself again. I’d forgotten how much of a warrior I am — bringer of light and (frightfully bad) singer of Taylor Swift songs.

I’ve also been waiting for a dreaded email from my Topics in Multiculturalism professor with poem revising suggestions. The lack of suggestions can only lead to one conclusion — my poem(s) are beyond hope. I already knew this. I’m no poet. I do much better with a blank document in InDesign and an event to advertise… Painting a picture with poetic wordplay is decidedly not a talent of mine. I decided it’s okay for me to be bad at this one thing.

I’m really good at a lot of other stuff. I need to let other people shine every so often. And so, if I get a C on my poetry project, that’s just how it is. C’est la vie.

There’s not much else to report on. No new or old sex friends to report on right now. I have started to shave my legs again — just in case.

Tomorrow’s looking like a pretty laid back sort of day. I’ll probably spend my morning practicing my bound wild thing. Who knows where things might go from there. (Probably nowhere too exciting… but if there’s debauchery, you’ll all be the first to know.)

My bound wild thing is coming along too. Still not graceful, but I'll get there (maybe). #selfielapse

A video posted by _christinaheart_ (@_christinaheart_) on

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The kind of weeks I’m having.

Channeling Tina Belcher all the days. All of them. It’s working pretty okay. I can’t keep one thought in my head for more than a few minutes, except when I find myself updating three posters/flyers for a library program. Then I lose track of two hours and end up eating lunch at 2:30.

Oh look, something shiny. Bye!

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New Semester? ohgod.

The Spring semester starts tomorrow. I think I mentioned it in my previous post, but I’m taking 3 classes for the next 11 weeks. Photojournalism, Media Relations, and Topics in Multiculturalism. Sadly, I only discovered the new Bob’s Burger episodes on Netflix tonight.

I, thankfully, finished the John Cleese memoir tonight. It took me forever to get through it. It wasn’t that terrible of a book; I just read before bed, so I get through approximately a page a night.

But it did slow down about halfway through. His recollection of his early, pre-show business life was actually a lot more interesting than the part that eventually made him famous. He also didn’t talk about his time as a Python member much. Maybe the second half of the book was cranked out under a strict deadline.

Anyway, the next book I’m reading is “First Frost” by Sarah Addison Allen. I love her books. They’re fluffy, but a little fantastical. It should be an easier beast to get through.

I also blew through a bunch of money this weekend. I visited a wonderful new Vietnamese restaurant this weekend, Pho7Spice. I got a small (huge) bowl of their Pho7 Special. So meaty, so delicious.

They had amazing macaroons too. And the coffee! The coffee! It was so strong, so delicious, so worth risking insomnia.

So, you know, we ate one of everything on the menu. (I kid, but not by much.) The best macaroon was the salted caramel. The best pho was all of it.

Buuuuut, between Pho, macaroons, coffee, my 5-class yoga purchase and my credit card bills — I’ve got about $20 to buy food for the next two weeks. Chickpea curry and bean chili, here I come. Payday comes and the money leaves almost immediately. Weeeee! (Anyone have tips on how to create a budget without feeling like a poor person — even though you’re a poor person?)

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Ba da ba ba ba… Another one bites the dust (but I still want to dance in the rain).

Another boy has decided to be pretty damn disappointing.

I think the Universe has taught me the lesson (again) to trust my gut. This post is not all about the failure of another man. I’ll italicize the man rant in case you want to easily skim over it and get to the good stuff.

When guys disappear for 3 weeks, even when it’s time for them to start Training For Their Thing, it’s a sign that something’s not right. Granted it wasn’t just the dropping off the face of the earth that gave me that inkling. Flaking on plans, a screen grab of sushi off the internet instead of a real life food shot from NYC, blurting out of questions like “have you been good these past three weeks or have you seen someone else?”… all of these things were Weird (with a capital W) and my intuition knew it but I rationalized it thinking that I had no reason (besides all the Weird) to doubt this guy. Besides, I was his “favorite.” Who’d be so cheesy unless it were true?

It’s not like I could be mad that he got a girlfriend but I do have the right to be mad that he got a girlfriend and then continued to have sex with me without telling me about her until he was an asshole one week… which led me to discover (via a tagged status update from the girlfriend) that he took the girlfriend to his first Thing and then learned from her facebook page that they were dating since February.

So if all this happens, trust your gut because the later realization will make you feel stupid. You shouldn’t feel that way because all you did was take someone at face value, but you still will because you decided to look the other way while your intuition screamed that you shouldn’t. You’ll also be pissed that you paid for the damn crepes on your last date.

HOWEVER (the rant is over because I’m too awesome for bullshit)!!!!

My job rocks. The Monday after all this shit went down, I had a super busy day at work assembling props for some children’s book displays and sending news releases and just generally kicking ass. This is the first time in my adult life where something shitty happened in my personal life but it didn’t totally shake my confidence because — fuck that shit — I’m kicking ass and taking names and making a damn difference in my small way.

And…

I’m staring a new semester on Monday. I’ll be taking three classes this semester and I’m really hoping it doesn’t end up killing me. It’s only 11 weeks. I can endure stress for 11 weeks, I think. Two classes are online (Photojournalism and Media Relations) and one is in person (Topics in Multiculturalism).

I’m pretty excited about the Media Relations class because it will probably be useful to my current job duties. It’s about how you can get the word out about events and how you can make the media’s job easier. I’m also excited about Topics in Multiculturalism because it’s the first 400-level class I’ve taken and I’m a nerd like that. I’m also scared shitless because I’m afraid I will Never Stop Writing. I’m excited because it seems like a really cool class and it’s actually in person so there will be actual, verbal class discussion. I’m also nervous because some college kids aren’t really very good at discussion because they’re busy sending dick pics on snapchat or whatev.

Anyway, 11 weeks. Even if it sucks, I can get through 11 weeks with a C. I think. I’m sure confident, anyway.

And now a yoga story!

I was in Scranton (well, Duryea) this Friday night/Saturday morning to celebrate my Dustin’s new job near Bethlehem. He was having a bon voyage type shindig and so I came up and slept in the softest most back wrecking bed I’ve slept in in a long time.

In the morning, after dragging my feet about yoga, I decided it was a sign from the Universe that I should go to yoga when I discovered via the Maps app a studio called Nearme Yoga which was, literally, near me.

I took myself to class and we were asked to picture this scenario:

You’re in a desert. Picture your surroundings. Now, picture a cube. Picture a ladder. Now imagine a garden… and a horse. There’s a storm… What direction is it headed?

The cube symbolizes your ego. Mine was large, which means I’m sure of myself, and it had trees inside it. It was made of glass, so that symbolized my transparency as a person. That was all pretty spot on and I also liked that my ego was filled with life and growth. I think it means I’m confident in who I am and I’m always trying to improve myself… Not perfect — trees are never perfect — but growing and adapting and strong.

The ladder symbolizes your friends. My ladder was sturdy and made of wood — the type that gets handed down from grandfather to father to son to grandson — and it was leaning against my cube. It was much smaller than my cube, but it was leaning against my cube. I think that means that, while I don’t have a ton of friends, I have good strudy friends who will lean on me and return the favor when I need the support.

My garden was suppose to symbolize the children I want to have. They were all flowers on top of cacti. There were probably 5 or 6 of them. I certainly don’t want 5 or 6 kids, but I do love that my existing family is so close and inclusive. I’d like for there to be kids in my future, lots of them, but not necessarily my own. It takes a village to raise resilient cacti babies, so I guess that’s not too far off.

But here is the kicker — the horse is my ideal mate. My horse was a beautiful black horse with a white and grey spotted patch on it’s face. Tina Belcher was riding my horse. I’ve joked on multiple occasions that Tina is my spirit animal. She’s now riding my spiritual horse-mate. Is that weird?

What does it mean that Tina Belcher is riding my realistic horse-mate?

I refuse to believe Tina riding my horse means anything but awesome stuff for me and my for-life mate.

Finally, the storm represents how you see the world. Mine was off in the distance but moving towards me. That’s also pretty spot on because I’m anxious and I’m always expecting the other shoe to drop. I’m constantly hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. The storm didn’t make me feel unsettled though, and I think that’s an improvement over my old way of thinking. I know I can weather the storm (because I’m a mofo tree, dammit) so it’s no big thing.

Rain just purifies the air. It’s a reset button. It washed the dirt away.

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Hello Beautiful People!

It’s time for another rendition of random blogging time!

How are things where you are?

I’ve been magically, wonderfully, joyously, blissfully awesome. Was that too much? Okay, life hasn’t been perfect — it is winter, after all — but it has been pretty damn good.

I started my new job in December. At a library. You know, that place with all the books and the free internet access… the movies, CDs, and databases. That place. I’ve made worksheets, props, magnets, and “coming soon” bookmarks. I’m learning about news releases and I’m making suggestions (and taking minutes) during committee meetings.

I’ve played with exacto blades and glue and lollipop sticks. It has been so fun. And my coworkers are all great. It’s such a supportive place to work. Even on my super busy, nutso days, I feel like I’m actually doing something that makes a damn difference in some small way.

I’ve also been continuing my yoga. I’ve started running semi-frequently (1-2 times a week). I’m suppose to do one or the other every day, except for Wednesdays because those are the Sacred Supper Club nights and you can’t run or do yoga after you’ve eaten your weight in food… especially chili because that’s a disaster and that’s what’s on the menu this week.

On the running front, I tend to stick to a 30 minute workout (5 minutes of warm up, 5 of cool down), so I’m running just over 2 miles most of the time. I’m okay with that. Running two miles once or twice a week means I run two miles more than most people once or twice a week. It also seems to keep my body happy AND it’s given me a glorious backside. (At least compared to my slightly less glorious backside from a few months ago — it was still pretty glorious from all those warrior poses and yoga squats.)

My new yoga thing is to pick a goal pose and obsessively work on nailing it until I nail it. And then nail it over and over and over again to placate my ego. My current pose is full mermaid and I can clumsily grab my toes and rotate my shoulders. Its isn’t pretty, but I CAN TOUCH MY DAMN TOES!

Mermaid.

Mermaid #1.

So that’s pretty fun. And damn if it doesn’t look pretty once you’re in it. My ultimate goal is to make this look easy, like I can make “bird of paradise” look easy *most* of the time. Not always. I don’t actually aim for always. Sometimes I have no balance and sometimes my legs are tight and sometimes my ankles are tired and refuse to support my weight again for my own amusement.

So that’s how things are in my neck of the woods. I’m painfully behind on current events, still haven’t seen 90% of the movies I should have seen by the age of 29, and I’ve just written and submitted an obituary on a fictional man named Skyler who died at the age of 92.

And it’s Winter for a little while longer. I already feel better knowing that February is behind us. Sunshine is on the way, it’s going to get warmer. My electricity bill will be half (or less) than what it is now for about 6 months. I’ll be able to go outside without freezing and I just can’t wait. I cannot express just how over winter I am right now.

I mean, I just finished listening to the “Wild” audiobook and it’s made me want to go hiking. This is not a thing I usually want to do and I’m sure as soon as I see my first spider outside, or wasp, or stink bug, I’ll change my mind, but right now those things sound heavenly.

That said, this weekend is supposed to be “nice.” Sunny and above freezing for part of the day. Very exciting stuff right there. I’m going to buy myself a third yoga mat on Saturday and check out some music in Lancaster with my chosen partner-in-crime.

Have I mentioned life is good? So much can change in a year or two. So much.

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