Wanderlust

wan·der·lust [won-der-luhst] noun
a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about.

I lived in the same house from the summer before kindergarten through high school graduation, and came back to that same house for 24 years until my parents retired to the beach. There are too many memories to recall readily though I know they involved hours on the phone, laughter, tears, boy band obsession, and an absurd amount of neon.

I loved growing up in that neighborhood, with the same friends living on my street.  I met so many of them when we entered kindergarten together at 5 years old and (thanks to Facebook) I'm still in touch with a lot of them today.  Throughout college and beyond, I loved to come home to the same house, the same mall, and...Ukrop's.

Because of this, I always thought that I would find a home quickly after I graduated (whether it was Richmond or not...it was DEFINITELY going to be a sweet southern town), marry my high school/college boyfriend, settle down, have kids, and give them a similar experience.

Wow. 

While I'm sure that there are plenty of people who make this kind of firm declaration and follow through, I clearly was not one of them.

Fat Chance

When I was in college, I took a sociology class where, in addition to the usual homework and tests, we had to write four papers.  The theme was the same - how certain characteristics of our upbringing affected who we had become - but we had to focus on a different topic for each paper: gender, race/ethnic heritage, socioeconomic status, and birth order.  It sounds cliche, but I really did learn a lot about myself from doing this exercise.  However, one topic that was NOT addressed, but had a huge impact on who I am today is weight.

Weight.

Like a lot of women I know, I have never been satisfied with mine no matter what it is.

I went on my first diet in elementary school.

My nickname when I was little was a filipino slang term for "chubby." I know my parents meant it as a term of endearment (chubby kids are cute, after all), but it still gave me a label very early on that I tried to overcome.  For me, it was hard enough being one of the only non-white kids in my neighborhood.  I didn't really want to have to deal with being the fat asian kid on top of it.

Those rolls! Cute when you're a toddler, but...

The heart of it all

I had a blog post all set to go about New Year's Resolutions (and my inability to keep the one that I really tried to keep this year - blogging more often).  It was, in my opinion, somewhat funny, something people could find commonality in, but overall, something that I hoped would entertain.  The problem is that it was taking me WAY too long to finish.  I started it the week after New Year's Day and I kept abandoning it and coming back. I couldn't really get it just right, and it was really bothering me.

Then it hit me. I realized that I was having such a hard time with it because I have been getting away from the reason that I started this blog.

Wrap it up

The semester is over, the year is almost up and I'm just realizing that this blog is almost one year old! Well... one year from when I remembered that I had a blog. :)

I have been less active this semester and I'm really really going to try harder next year to do more than one post per month.  I'm not sure if it's that I'm just used to the shenanigans of students so I don't feel the need to vent about it as much, or if I'm getting apathetic, or even if it's just that I'm more patient.

Truth be told, the semester kind of flew by for me.  I am regretful that I feel like I didn't connect with this semester's class as well as in the past and that has kind of bugged me. I'm still trying to pinpoint why it worked out that way and why it bugs me so much.

I've also been very aware of how quickly people are coming into and going from my life, especially students.  Again, this is the nature of the job and working in an academic environment, but unlike friends from childhood, high school, college or post-college life, it will be difficult to keep up with most of them.  We're not Facebook friends, we don't follow each other on Twitter, and most of them will move on and not look back.

I am insanely curious to know how they're all going to end up.  I know that when I was a senior in college, I never could have predicted my life would have gone the way that it has...

I may not have known where I was going to live, but I knew where I didn't want it to be (the north or a big city, obviously)

...and I was SO SURE of what I wanted out of life,

...and who I wanted to be with,

...and of course NONE of that really worked out the way that I thought.

The Changing of the Guard

Despite my lack of posts through this fall, life has not actually been all that boring.  On the contrary, it's been a pretty good year so far!  We've had a bunch of house guests (because of football season), I've only gone out of town a couple of times, and most shockingly, I haven't minded sticking around. :) 

I have to admit that a lot of this has to do with the changing of the guard of my teaching assistant, or TA.  I'm still not sure what it says about me that I relate to my TA's more than my colleagues, but nevertheless, the two that I've had so far have become two of my closest friends.

Going Jersey

I consider myself a pretty nice, relatively even-tempered person.  In fact, while I am quite opinionated, I am more concerned about putting people off so I try not to be too loud about said opinions unless I'm really pushed.

I think a lot of that has to do with my dual background: asian and southern.  Between the two cultures, I was not really encouraged to speak my mind too much. I was pretty comfortable with that, which was a huge reason why I was hesitant to move to the New York City area.  But...

I distinctly remember when that all changed.  I had lived in Hoboken and worked in Manhattan for only a couple of months.  I was still getting used to parallel parking, maneuvering a mass-transit system and not making eye contact, but the trigger was something fairly innocuous.

I was at a CVS store and as the cashier handed me my change, I said, "Thank you."  So far so good, right?  Well, she looked at me like I had 3 heads, glared at me and mumbled something back that didn't even resemble "You're Welcome."

I was shocked, semi-insulted, and...about 5 minutes later...really irritated.

And thus began my slow yet steady transition, for the better, I think, of standing up for myself more.  That 5 minute reaction time decreased until, very slowly, I became used to giving an immediate reaction that was a little more expressive than a look of shock and hurt.  In fact, it can get a little angry.  And occasionally, I will go beyond that.

I will Go Jersey.

Long before Jersey Shore became well-known for the almost weekly brawls, I credited living in the NYC metro area with bringing out a certain...pugnacious side of me.  It's not that I would intentionally pick fights, but when pushed to the limit, my sweet demeanor could turn. Quickly.

My friends and I started calling this, "going Jersey."  It would come out at predictable moments: when people cut me off on the Turnpike, when oglers would get too aggressive on the streets of the city and of course, when people yelled at me.

A classic story of going Jersey happened while I was in, of all places, Baltimore.  ProMo and I were passing through on our way south to visit our parents, and after a fun night out with some friends, we decided to get a slice of pizza to eat in the car before we hit the road.  Now, at this point my car...excuse me...my Pontiac Sunfire sedan...was pretty banged up from, well, living in Jersey and staying generally parked on the streets.

They call them "bumpers" for a reason.

So there we are, ProMo and I, listening to some rap music, windows down, singing along, eating our pizza and savoring each delicious, greasy bite as if our lives depended on it.  Just then a car pulls up ahead and attempts to parallel park in the spot in front of us.  Now I know that I was and am biased, but even to the novice parallel parker, this spot was a no-brainer. The driver (a female) seems hesitant.  She tries, fails, and re-tries.  ProMo and I, in a fantastic mood, are happily cheering her on.  She almost has it.  I, in the driver's seat and still singing, jamming, and eating pizza, gesture for her to keep backing up.  The windows are down in the car and ProMo and I are both saying things like, "keep going! You've got it!"

Actually, she's still having trouble.  Our cheerleading is not helping.  At this point, her boyfriend gets out of the car to help.  Our eyes start rolling.  Now all three of us are coaching her.

She is close to my front bumper but this is her best attempt yet at actually getting into the spot. Boyfriend looks nervous. ProMo and I are STILL gesturing for her to keep backing up. Between greasy bites and singing, I'm saying things like, "That's what bumpers are for!" and "My car is crap anyway!" and my personal favorite, "Keep going until you hit resistance! Trust me!"

And again, this was a HUGE spot.

Boyfriend's worried look is slowly turning into a look of annoyance. In my head I'm thinking, "Surely this annoyed and suddenly sour face isn't directed towards me.  I'm coaching her, for goodness sake."  He then opens his mouth and yells...YELLS!... "MOVE!...BACK!"

ProMo and I are dumbfounded. Silent. Music is still blasting but I am acutely aware of at least 2 seconds of silence as I blink and stare with pizza grease dripping from the side of my mouth.

At that point, I'm not exactly sure what happened.  I remember lots of yelling and gesturing (if you know me, you know I talk A LOT with my hands), pointing and cursing from both me AND ProMo.  Pretty sure pizza bits were flying out of my mouth too.  At some point, ProMo either stopped for a breath or realized what we were doing and stopped which made my final words all that much clearer: "...AND BY THE WAY I COULD PARK TWO F-ING CARS IN THAT SPOT!!"

Now it's boyfriend's turn to stare and blink. He quickly and quietly gets into girlfriend's car and they speed off, abadoning the spot and presumably their dreams of pizza for the night.

It's quiet (except for the rap music), I'm still fuming and ProMo says quietly..."I think maybe it's time for us to move away from Jersey..."

And that, my friends, is what it means to Go Jersey.

Home Alone

ProMo is off on another international conference adventure which means over a week of "bachelorette" time for me!  Since we've moved to the 'burg, this has happened pretty often, which is great for him and his career.  For me, well...

Initially, I whine.  I say that I'll be lonely.  He and I hang out all the time and many days he's the only person that I talk to, so when he's gone I can go the entire day without talking to anyone.  But after a day or so, I start getting used to it.

Then, the inner OCD geek comes out.

I kind of like...OK...I really like being in control of my schedule, meals, and of course the television.  I should not admit this, but I even plan out all my meals (normal) and at least one household chore (not as normal) every day.  I print off a schedule - which is actually supposed to be a meal planner - and I change the column of "snacks" to "chores."  I really enjoy doing it and I follow it every time.

I know. I'm not right.

While I do get excited about it like the nerd that I am, I am also fully aware that my days are playing out like a scene (below) from the movie 40 Year Old Virgin. 

Seriously.  If I had little figurines to paint like Andy (Steve Carell) did in the movie, I probably would.  Instead, I do one or all of the following: play Wii, sing karaoke or do sudoku puzzles. 

It makes me wonder what I would be like if I were still single. While I would love to think I'd be sipping a glass of wine in a bubble bath every night, I'm pretty sure I'd just be curled up with some puzzles and a dog and maybe some Glee.  And frankly, that wouldn't be so bad.

A Crisis?

"Define mid-life crisis..."

ProMo and I traveled out of town yet again a couple of weekends ago to celebrate the birthday of one of our very good friends.  She is our age...that is, late 30's....as were most of her guests. One of the circles that I found myself in was discussing at what age one could categorize his or her erratic actions as a mid-life crisis.  To me, it always sounded like something reserved for tired, overweight, balding men who suddenly bought convertibles or sports cars. Not someone like me...right?

Right?!?

My previous blog post illustrates that this summer has been a little reflective for me and perhaps I should just read that to see the beginnings of a crisis...if it is indeed a crisis.  Was it triggered by my birthday, aka the tangible transition from my "mid-30's" (acceptable, hip) to my "late-30's" (or as my friends have shortened it..."almost 40")? Or was it triggered by the realization that the current freshman were born after I had already graduated high school?  I've always been OK with my age and birthdays, and I have changed my career path a few times (as have many of my Gen X peers), so what is causing this current sense of dread and panic?

Is it a mid-life crisis?

When I checked with wikipedia, here are the buzzwords from their definition. 

"a period of dramatic self-doubt that is felt by some individuals in the 'middle years' or middle age of life, as a result of sensing the passing of their own youth and the imminence of their old age"

"triggered by transitions experienced in these years, such as extramarital affairs, andropause or menopause, the death of parents or other causes of grief, unemployment or underemployment, realizing that a job or career is hated but not knowing how else to earn an equivalent living,"

"result may be a desire to make significant changes in core aspects of day-to-day life or situation, such as in career, work-life balance, marriage, romantic relationships, big-ticket expenditures, or physical appearance."

So a logical conclusion from my wikipedia pop-quiz would be that I am indeed going through a mid-life crisis.

Another symptom? My enthusiastic attendance at the Britney Spears concert this weekend.

That said, it is also true that I have ALWAYS loved cheesy pop music, I have a clear tendency to get restless living in the same place for more than 3 years, and all who know me know my passion for travel and other "big-ticket expenditures."

So I am inclined to say that this is, in fact, not a mid-life crisis.

It's a pre-existing condition. :)

Disoriented

Orientation.

Every July, over a span of 3 weeks, groups of anxious 17/18-year-olds and their families descend on the 'burg and learn...well, I'm not exactly sure what they learn.  Because I didn't go here.  But whatever it is, they do it in circle formation, sitting outside, with an overly upbeat college kid in a maroon and orange polo shirt directing them.

While we are a mere 3 days into orientation for this year, ProMo and I are already grumbling about how all the lunch places downtown are crowded and how it's too soon to be inundated with students.  This alone could make me grumpy but as I was walking back from lunch today, I recalled something that I already knew, but served as the latest in a stream of reminders that time is marching along more quickly than I would like.

They were born in 1993.

Me circa 1993 - when the current freshmen were born.

 Flannel shirt? check.

To my younger readers, this may not be a big deal.  But to my contemporaries who may not work in a school-type environment, chew on this...

I had just gotten used to the fact that the students I've taught for the past couple of years were born in the late 80's and didn't know who the band Duran Duran is or understand my obsession with them.

Duran Duran? Hubba hubba.

Now I'm hit with a group that was born AFTER the heyday of not just Michael Jackson and Duran Duran, but New Kids on the Block, MC Hammer, Guns n Roses, The Cure, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Nirvana.

Nirvana!!  Forget the 80's...most of the 90's is unmemorable for this crew.

Chalk it up to the latest reminder of my age that has happened in the very short time since we got back from Switzerland.  It all started with, of course, my birthday in the end of June.  Not everyone cares or even thinks about their birthday.  Some don't even celebrate it. 

This is not my world.  

My birthday is a date that I have always looked forward to.  Not because I had fabulous, grand parties as a kid.  (Actually, because of my summer birthday I never got the cupcake party in school and I was usually either out of town or most of my friends were.)  

No, I loved it because it was all. about. ME!  I cherished it, loved it and held it on such a pedestal that I gave it a name.

Stelabration!

The original Stelabration

The start of a new tradition in B'more...Stelabration, Camden Yards style (my name's on there somewhere)

Oh, I still love it.  But for the first time, I felt the slightest sense of dread that I hadn't felt before.  Not at 30, like I thought I would.  But at 37.  All this despite the fact that everyone tells me I don't look my age and I still get carded in bars and restaurants.  The truth is, whether or not I look it, I am...it. 

37, that is.

I drowned my sorrows - literally - by having a backyard BBQ and (inflatable) pool party attended by some very cool people...the CEBs (plus a couple of G's).  Average age: 23.  The song "No Diggity" comes on my iPod.  "Ooo...I love this song," I reminisce as I wade in my pool and sip my cold beverage. "It was popular when ProMo and I started dating!" The closest CEB replies,  "Oh yeah, I was in, like 3rd or 4th grade!"

Thanks.

The next, slightly more subtle reminder was when we went down to Hilton Head over the 4th of July weekend.  My family has been going there almost every summer since I was 6 or 7 and we always went about the same time of year (somewhere around my birthday and/or the 4th). 

One of the beautiful, wonderful things about Hilton Head is that no matter how popular it gets, it never builds up too much.  Because of this, and the uniqueness of the island itself (a mix of dense forest, spanish moss, lagoons and beaches), every trip down there brings me back to my youth.  From walking on the same great paths to Harbor Town, to chilling on our straw mats on the beaches, to playing tennis, to seeing the myriad of minivans from Ohio...not much has changed. 

Stelabration, Hilton Head-style. We still own this timeshare and I'm pretty sure this table is still in there.

That is, until I see that the people my age now have kids, and those kids are experiencing those same summers that I did. No, it's not 1987, it's 2011.  I'm not the one doing the cannonballs off of the diving board, I'm the one shooting the kids the evil eye and sighing loudly.

Ah, youth.

Which brings me to last weekend when we went to NYC.  Most people assumed we were "escaping" or partying, but in actuality, we spend most of our time catching up with our old city and visiting good friends.  One of the best things about having lived there is the fact that when we go back, we don't need to worry about hitting any tourist traps, we can just focus on enjoying the city like locals. 

We stayed with one of our closest friends (who is one of the rare people who can say he was roommates with both ProMo and myself) and spent most of the weekend eating, drinking, talking and laughing just like the old days.  "Doesn't it seem like you lived here just yesterday?" our old roomie asked. "Yes, but it was 12 years ago," was ProMo's prompt reply.

Really? 12 years ago?

Really.

"The REAL Three's Company" My roomies and me...12 years ago.

It doesn't seem like that long ago that I was training for marathons in Central Park, going to happy hour at Bull's Head, and enjoying fresh Italian food a little too much.

But it was. A really long time ago.

And...that brings me back to orientation.  As I walked by yet another circle of orientation games, I studied their faces and picked up more than a hint of the freshmen-to-be checking each other (and their orientation leader) out. 

Further down the Drillfield, I walked by a couple of parents - identifiable by their free "Ask Me About My Hokie!" reusable tote bags - and looked at them a little more closely.  As I did, I realized that many of them looked like they could be my age.  Or at the very least my sister's age. And I realized I was most likely (much) closer in age to them than the shiny-faced new crop of students.

Disoriented? Well, to quote my younger selves...

Right on.
Totally.
Word.
Fo shizzle.
Mos def.

Green green grass

I'm getting ready for a trip abroad but I couldn't leave the country without a long-overdue blog post!

Over the past couple of weeks, I've started and stopped quite a few blogs.

Ironically, one was about writer's block. :)

But one of the things that I've settled on after a good 2+ weeks of pure observation of the world around me could be summed up by a few cliches.

You can't always get what you want.
The grass is always greener on the other side.
Never judge a man unless you have walked a mile in his shoes.

I've traveled a bit over the past couple of weeks, and in that time I've had the chance to catch up with a bunch of my good friends.  Inevitably, it ends up as a mutual admiration club.  I wish that I lived in one of the more exciting cities that they live in, but they long for the light traffic and low cost of living in the 'burg.  I miss the multiple opportunities to meet new people, they wish that they could be home at a reasonable hour, park in a driveway (or garage) and watch the sunset on a back porch with nothing but the sound of the birds chirping and the wind through the trees.

At the same time, my crop of friends and recent graduates that are entering the working world are quickly wondering why they were sooo ready to graduate.  It seems like everyone is wanting what they can't have.

I feel like it's not too much of a generalization to say that most people aren't completely satisfied with at least one aspect of their life.  But I think this is totally normal. 

Most people will vent occasionally but every now and then you meet those people that like to keep up a good "face" and keep it all inside.  I like to say that these people are being very American Beauty.  By this I mean, on the outside, they look like they have a perfect life but inside, it's a crazy Kevin Spacey mess.  And that's not good for anyone.

Those who scream the loudest have the most to hide.
Sometimes the saddest people have the biggest smile.

With all that said, it can be nice to see my life through someone else's eyes.  I could be feeling kind of blah, but then I'll hang out with someone who will tell me that they envy:

• the amount of free time that I have
• the fact that ProMo and I are DINKs who can "travel on a whim"
• the fact that we live in a cheap college town
• our lack of "responsibility" (a thinly veiled reference to kids)
• my 8-5 job
• my proximity to nature
• that I have such a cool husband...

I agree with some of these statements, disagree with a few others and find the rest laughable.  I'll let you figure out which is which. :)

The point is, sure...there are a lot of things that I would change about my life if I could, and there are a lot of things that I would keep the same.  So for now, I will be content with my perfectly imperfect life.  And I hope you will too.  Because no matter how it may seem, the grass isn't always greener...

The Sweet Escape

Disclaimer: While I generally try to keep my posts positive, this is after all a blog of my life.  And so every now and then I hope you'll forgive my moments of frustration and brutal honesty and know that I just need to vent to the blogosphere without worrying what people are going to say. Thanks for being my readers and friends and letting me be me. :)

After the fun and craziness of last week, this week has been a bit of a let-down.  I am excited that ProMo and I are headed to DC for the weekend (a work trip with most fortuitous timing) because I know it will shake me out of this funk.

What do I blame it on? That the semester is over and students - and their energy - are no longer here? That the weather has been cold and rainy all week? That my entire work focus will shift for the next 3 months? That if I hear a student - or worse yet another faculty member - say "so do you actually work in the summer?" one more time I'm going to scream? It probably has to do with all of them.

As a result, I find myself retreating back into my 'burg shell.  I "suddenly" (although I knew it was coming) find myself surrounded by people who don't "get" me. I live for the trips out of town (and trust me, there are some great ones coming up), but then I resent that I can't find that kind of happiness in my own little world here.  It's not right that someone should have to LEAVE their hometown to have fun.

And it's not that there isn't fun stuff to do here...there can be.  But without any good friends here, I'm relying on one person - ProMo - to do everything with.  To his credit, he's been great!  The problem is that I've depended on him to be my (sole) social outlet for the past 3 years (less the past couple of months when L and D gave him a little "break").  Throw in the fact that he has a whole different work and travel schedule, and is admittedly less social than I am, and the result is that I would end up doing a lot of this stuff by myself.  And that, my friends, is definitely no fun.

OK it's not that we don't get invitations to do things or we haven't been on "couple dates" with other people.  But just like real dating, you can't force a relationship just because you're the same age or you live in the same town or you have certain things in common.  And unfortunately, the people that I could really "piss time away" and enjoy exploring the area with happen to be...not here.

At least it has gotten to the point where people have stopped telling me that I'm just not trying hard enough. Believe me, I have tried it all.  But besides that, I don't think ANYONE should compromise what they look for in a friend, right? The truth is that it's a small town. Period. In a city you have millions of fellow residents and maybe get close to a handful of people to call true friends.  Percentage-wise that doesn't bode well for a town of a few thousand.

I've mentioned before how surviving cancer is a blessing in that it makes me really appreciate just being ALIVE and having love in my life.  So I do feel selfish when I want more. The "curse" of cancer (besides the obvious) is that I made a promise to myself that I would not waste any more time...wasting time. Or existing. Or being in an unhappy situation.  So when I do find myself having a bad day or week I really beat myself up and put pressure on myself to DO SOMETHING to change it. And that's not always possible.

So what do I do? Look for a sweet escape...either literally or figuratively. Skip town (see ya soon, DC!), go for a walk, watch some guilty pleasure TV show, read a book, do sudoku, clean the house, clean the dogs, go workout, take a nap...

I know people would love to have as much "free time" as I do. I KNOW I have a lot of wonderful, positive things in my life.  But sometimes you just have to vent. And escape. And throw things out into the black hole of the internet...

And so it goes

"And so it goes, and so it goes.  And so will you soon, I suppose..."

This quote is from one of my favorite Billy Joel songs.  Like many Billy Joel songs, it is beautiful, sincere, and slightly tragic.  And although he is singing about love - the romantic kind - I always find myself singing this song to myself when I say goodbye to good friends.

[Stick with me...I swear this isn't as depressing as it seems so far!]

Assuming this is not your first visit to my blog (in which case...welcome!), you probably know that because of my many moves and job changes, I've had to say goodbye to loved ones a number of times.  ProMo has certainly moved around more than I have due to his childhood as an "Army Brat," but I think I've had my share of goodbyes as well.
 
The "problem," I think, is that I get attached to people pretty easily.  I thrive on making connections and forming friendships. So while this may not seem like a problem, it can be hard when I find myself needing to say goodbye before I'm ready.  And despite the fact that we're not moving, the end of a school year in a college town means that I will still be saying a lot of goodbyes. 

And so it goes.

As I've mentioned before here on this blog, finding lasting bonds has admittedly been harder for me since we moved to the 'burg.  But this year has been a bit of a revelation.  Once I decided to just let go of some hang-ups on who I could and could not socialize with, I've been able to get close to some pretty cool people.  That's the good news!  The flip side is that by opening myself up to these friendships, I've had to prepare myself for the inevitable goodbyes that I know will come.  Some sooner rather than later.  As in, this week. (Eek!)

Rather than seeing it as something completely sad, I am thankful for the really fun (really really fun) times that I've had this year!  And I am hopeful for good times to come next year, even though I know this means opening myself up for new friendships yet again.  But that's one of my favorite things to do, so I don't mind the challenge... 

And I think I've got some good prospects, whether they know it yet or not. :)

And so it goes.

Age Ain't Nothing but a Number

A few of my readers have mentioned that I may want to explain what I mean by "My DINK-y Life."  DINK is an acronym for "Double Income, No Kids." Conventional wisdom says that the older the DINK, the less they have in common with their (age) peers.  As you can imagine, there are not too many DINKs here in the 'burg.  So ProMo and I often need to get creative in our socialization.

And after nearly three years here, I did something new this weekend.

I ventured downtown on a Saturday night without ProMo. 

Yes folks, while he was off having a boys' trip to VEGAS [where there was plenty of NSFB (not suitable for blog) activity], I braved the downtown scene without him.

I'm talking full-out college kid experience courtesy of my T.A., L, and her buddy D.  We did it up: from the pre-gaming to the Pokey Sticks and all the Sharkey's and TOTS in between.

AND...it was really really a fun night!  It wasn't nearly as awkward as I had psyched myself up to believe it would be to be. L and D told me it was because I "blended in" so well.  They are sweet.

The good news is that the weekend festivities gave me hope that I, in fact, do NOT need to leave town to have fun and I also don't have to be afraid to run into students!  In fact, it seemed that more of them didn't quite know what to make of me being on their home turf.  One student (bless her heart) even did a "drive by" just to make sure it was me.  When I assured her that it was, she gave a dazed "Oh, hi" and walked away with a friend a tow. A friend who, L later informed me, is also in my class.  [My bad for not knowing that, but see this post for the reason why.]

The bad news is that, in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think that L and D (who are grad students) will be gone soon.  And once again, I will be left with a crop of 18-22 year olds.  To paraphrase a character from my blog's pseudo-namesake, I keep getting older and they stay the same age.  :)

I guess the positive of this is that as they graduate and move on, I'll have more friends in various locales to visit and maybe they can just be my friends instead of my students!

Being a DINK is pretty interesting.  Because of circumstances, I find that I often relate more to people who are 10+ years younger than me than the ones my own age.  Nothing against my mid-30-something friends, but it's frankly easier for me to relate to conversation centered on the latest books, movies, sporting events, and music than talk of daycare, play dates and the perils of little league politics.

Which leads me to believe that it's not age, but rather life experience that sets us apart.  There's nothing wrong with it, it's just life!  And so I've concluded that there must be some "mental age" sweet spot that I've stayed in for a while now.  For example at my first job, my closest friends were all between 5 and 15 years OLDER than me.

So I guess it's true what they say...

Age ain't nothing but a number!

Act yo' age!

Why So Serious?

Apparently, in my effort to not talk about dancing, dive bars, or students, I cranked out a pretty depressing blog post. Boo, me! Sorry about that, people.  That was never my intention!  I guess I was just caught up in a moment.  Or maybe, more than anything else, it was just an excuse to put up fun old pictures and raise a virtual glass to my amazing friends. :)

ProMo raising a glass...er, coconut... 'cuz he's wrong in all the right ways

SO, despite the rainy Monday and the bittersweet basketball game on Saturday night (I don't wanna talk about it), my mood has improved throughout the day.  This is probably mostly because Spring Break is around the corner...as in, Friday!!  And yes, faculty do have to work over Spring Break, but I am choosing to take a couple of vacation days as long weekends to squeeze in some trips.  I'm sure I'll have some great stories to share in future posts.

But for now, I have a pretty good backlog of topics that I can't wait to dig into.  Even though they won't all happen tonight, this does tell me that I need to get cracking on updating this more regularly!  Some of these topics include:

• Topic 1: Reality TV (how have I NOT talked about Jennifer Lopez and Steven Tyler on Idol or that lovable cowboy lug that is The Bachelor AT ALL?! And...THIS JUST IN - one of my original teen idols, Ralph Macchio, is going to be on Dancing with the Stars!! First New Kid on the Block Joey McIntyre, now the Karate Kid? Be still my heart...)

Daniel-san!!

• Topic 2: My insane yet awesome dogs, Marlon Jackson Moen and Tito "Eli" Jackson Moen! Oh, have I not mentioned that my dogs are and will forever be named after the Jackson 5 (and their siblings, when I get to 6 names)?

Marlon and the Pringles perp.

The Original Marlon and Tito flanking Michael.

• Topic 3: Travel adventures (lots of fun trips coming up!)

High security in the Philippines.  Not getting through that sucker.

• ...and the gift that keeps on giving...students and my crazy life in academia.  I hope to bring you more amusing stories of my awkward 30-something city-girl self STILL trying to navigate this town of mostly temporary 18-22 year old residents.

On a related side note to that last bullet, I have invested in a digital voice recorder.  Originally, I wanted to buy it for some interviews that I do for work, but then I realized that it may be a tremendous benefit for my blog.

To test out this theory, I brought my new gadget out in downtown Blacksburg on Friday night. And, my friends...it. was. awesome.  If I do say so myself.

While it's a bit long, rambling and inside-jokey to all include now, here's a little sample of my observations:

The scene - Friday night, Hokie House.

["Genie in a Bottle" by Christina Aguilera and "Criminal" by Fiona Apple have already played.]

Me, speaking into my new favorite toy: They're playing the Spice Girls now. Spice Girls! PLEASE TRY to convince me this is not a 90's bar. This is, like, the 3rd 90's song we've heard in a row. [Pause. Sense of recognition.] 

Oh my gosh...these people were, like, 5 years old when this song was popular.  OK, maybe 8. AT BEST 8...They would have to have been born in 1989 to be 8. So that's like, seniors. [BTW, I'm impressed by my quick math skills in this situation, but still mad at my overuse of the word "like."]

[Silence while I scan the crowd.]

AND not all these people are seniors. [Pause. scan.] In fact, I would venture to say that 30% of the people here have a Fake ID.

[Another pause, moment of reflection, a-ha moment, and finally, mock horror] 

They are shutting down Adams Mill but they're letting these people drink?!?  It's a travesty.  A TRAVESTY!


...AANNNDD scene.  Welcome to a taste of a "chill" night for us in the 'burg.  This was followed by sporadic visits from students, who were all quite polite, if not always the most sober. 

But back to the blog!

While there is endless hilarious material on life in this town, I WILL get serious every once in a while.  There are some pretty significant anniversaries coming up for me, and since this is the best forum for expression that I have, you'll see it all here!

But don't worry, I never take myself TOO seriously so you shouldn't either. ;)

Friday is here...

It is the late afternoon/early evening on a Friday in the 'burg.

These are the moments that I truly feel in limbo.  You see, during the week my work and other random life responsibilities keep me busy and generally content.  But on the occasions that I am in town on this day of the week, at this time, I can't quite describe how I feel.  Of course I'm happy that the weekend is here, but truthfully I'm a little lonely and wishing that I had more of my good friends close by.

These are the moments that, when I lived in Hoboken/NYC, Baltimore, and DC I would know that I would have friends to hang out with, even if ProMo was busy.

These are the moments that I remember saying to my co-workers/friends, "Where are we going tonight?" because it was just assumed that we had plans together.

These are the moments that I do envy the students...as they relax and play frisbee, football or soccer on the Drillfield.  I want to do that! OK - maybe not play those sports (because I really suck at all 3), but definitely sit out there and relax with friends.  It's a beautiful setting and reminds me of lazy days on the Quad at Duke.

These are the moments that I wish there were more than 5 places to eat/go out in the 'burg.

I know it will get worse when the weather warms up and I will want to sit on the patio at The Mill or walk down to the Mall or Rock Creek Park and chill with my peeps.

But in the spirit of T.I. (see the About ME! tab for an explanation/quote), I am trying to not focus on all that and really enjoy what I do have...

A great home. A great husband. Crazy yet infinitely lovable dogs. A safe place to live with a low cost of living. And lots and lots of friends.  Even if they're not here with me, it's nice to know that there are so many people I could count on if I really needed them.

Dance Dance

On a spring semester Saturday night in the burg, you can count on a few things.  Among these:

1. The majority of the people you see will be students.
2. If you go out to a nice dinner, you'll likely see fraternity boys and/or sorority girls all dressed up to go to a formal.
3. There will be dancing.  Lots of dancing.

The benefit of living in a college town is that it gives you the opportunity to re-live some of the best moments of your college days.  For me, this included formals and dancing.  I love love love to dance.  In fact, that's one of the reasons I love Vegas so much. Amazing clubs!  But that's a post for another time...

When formals and dancing collide...
My girls and I doing the hottest dance move in 1996 - the Marcarena

I also loved my sorority days and while we did a lot of fun things, getting dressed up, going to formals, and dancing bring back a lot of great memories.  So when ProMo and I see all the cute "kids" dressed up, nervous and enjoying a nice dinner, we can't help but feel nostalgic for those sweet days.  Sure we didn't know each other then, but that kind of thing is universally fun.

The "awww" moment quickly fades when we decide to head out and find our "perfect bar" in the 'burg.  This would be a place that has friendly bartenders, plays good music (to us this means top 40 pop/hip-hop), and is not swarming with college students. Easy to find in a city, impossible to find in Blacksburg.

We end up in a place that doesn't have a rep for being one of the standard student hangouts, but has great music blasting.  I'm tentatively hopeful.  I think things are looking up even more as I get carded, have the drunk girlfriend of the bouncer tell me I look "amazing" for 36 (thank you), and follow the sound of the music upstairs.  There, we are greeted by another bouncer who tells me that there's a $5 cover.  For...? Whatever, I gotta dance!

Vegas, not Blacksburg

But as soon as I'm on the dance floor, I immediately spy 2 of my students and quickly note that the average age is, at best, 19.  I do my best to get my dance on and avoid eye contact with students, but I am more focused on the insanity that surrounds me.

Going to Vegas and other clubs often, I am far too familiar of the ol' "grab and hump" (or as ProMo calls it - the "ball and socket") that drunk boys LOVE to pull on whoever is closest to them.  While this move is not exclusive to college kids, having it executed by sweaty, drunk, and generally awkward pubescent boys adds that little something that makes it slightly more desperate and sad, rather than just annoying.

And it's in these moments that I am glad that I am not in college anymore.

Too distracted and slightly depressed that we have not yet found the "perfect bar," we finish our drinks, watch more awkward mating rituals, and head home to snuggle with the dogs.   Being a grown-up isn't all bad...but I sure wish I didn't have to leave town to dance.

Brawlin'

OK, so I love sports.  Specifically football and basketball, but really, I'll have SportCenter as my "white noise" as easily as I'll have E! News or the Sirius "90's on 9" channel.

Anyway, ProMo and I were at our Thursday night happy hour enjoying our beer, wing tidbits and pizza, and watching sports on approximately 10 different televisions.  One of the big stories of the day that we kept seeing on the Highlights was the fight between the goalies for the Pittsburgh Penguins and whoever they were playing.  [Since I don't follow hockey, I don't know what their names are nor who the opponent was, but that's fairly irrelevant.]

Let me set the scene for you: there's a standard hockey fight going on.  It starts with a couple of guys then maybe a couple more get in on it.  Refs are hanging out, doing whatever it is that hockey refs do when a fight is started...which is pretty much stand there and watch the fight happen and wait for it to run its course.  Then, the Penguins' goalie somewhat casually skates over the the other goalie.  Ref tries to stop him, Penguins' goalie pushes ref out of the way, brawl ensues.  Apparently, goalie fights are so rare that ESPN felt the need to put together a video montage of the best goalie fights of all time. Fine.

My question is, why is it not only OK but really, EXPECTED, that there will be a fight in hockey but it is so completely unacceptable in every other sport (except those based in fighting like boxing, of course).  Football and basketball players who get in fights get fined, suspended, or both.  What do they get in hockey?  A 10 minute penalty? Seriously?

I'm not saying one is right and one is wrong, but where did that disparity come in and why?