I love Gene Weingarten’s piece on smut novels in the Washington Post Magazine this weekend. Best line of the whole thing: Because what it makes clear is that, in comparative literary terms, female sexuality is James Joyce’s “Ulysses” and male sexuality is “The Hardy Boys.” Yeah, that sounds about right to me.
See, I told you the happiness wouldn’t last.
I’m pretty sure I have diverticulitis again. I stuck to liquids and soft foods all day Friday and Saturday, hoping that would help. The pain seemed to be a little worse last night, so today I have been on clear liquids with the exception of a couple little cups of pudding because I am hungry, dammit.
I don’t have a primary care doctor, so if I go somewhere it will have to be urgent care or the emergency room. I probably should have gone somewhere today, but everything is a mess in the aftermath of our blizzard. I walked 2 blocks to CVS and that was enough. I might go tomorrow morning if I don’t feel any better, but really, what are they going to do? Give me a prescription for antibiotics I’ll be afraid to take.
This could not come at a worse time. All the work at work is finally hitting at once. Assignments were handed out on Friday. Maybe it’s just me, but out of the four new people, I think that I have been assigned the most work. Part of me wants to take this as a vote of confidence, but another part of me thinks it is just because nobody is paying attention to who is doing what. At any rate, it is a LOT of work, all sorts of complicated stuff all due at about the same time with tight deadlines and little supervision. So of course I would get sick.
Also, I have my three month review tomorrow afternoon. I was nervous about that already since I do not know how my boss is going to evaluate me based on the two conversations we have had in the last three months. Not that I am expecting anything irregular, but it would be nice to go into it with a clear head instead of low blood sugar and confusion caused by eating a liquid diet for four days.
Finally, why doesn’t anybody good want to date me? Nine months of dating with nothing to show for it. This last one is really bothering me because the date went so well. And I am kinda mad because he is the one who made it into a date in the first place! I suggested a platonic drink since it was unlikely his discomfort with my marital status would have changed. I used those actual words. Then suddenly he was ordering dinner and picking up the check and suggesting a second location and kissing me and paying my cab fare home. And if he was just gonna blow me off the next day, I would rather have kept it platonic because he is the most interesting and engaging person I have met so far in this town, and I would have enjoyed having him as a friend. But now it’s all weird and he’s not gonna call, and I might as well have slept with him then. (Ok, that’s not true, I would feel worse if I had slept with him.)
But seriously, what is wrong with me?
And here I am all alone and sick in this city, and it sucks. Not that I wasn’t just as alone in Maine, but still.
I don’t know. This weekend just sucks.
I have five books on my coffee table right now that I have started and not finished. It’s not that I don’t like them. They are actually all really good. I just haven’t been reading much lately, what with all this writing and other stuff I’ve been doing.
Today I sat down and read a book. First book of the year, and it is February 6th. Thanks, Snowpocalypse!!!
It was Normal People Don’t Live Like This by Dylan Landis, and I recommend it highly.
I’m going to hear her read this week. God, I love DC!
That’s what people are calling our big blizzard. It really is quite something–this would be a big one even in Maine.
You’ve probably heard that some of our grocery stores ran out of food yesterday. Apparently all anyone is planning to do today is eat.
I just saw someone on snowshoes cross Connecticut Ave. and go up a side street. There’s a big Dodge Ram pickup truck stuck in the middle of Connecticut. The guy tried to get through the ridge of snow that the plow made going by and into the driveway of my building. He might have been able to make it in that truck if he’d had some speed behind him, but of course he’s not from Maine, so he was going about 2 mph and got stuck. Now he’s shoveling.
Apparently they don’t build the roofs down here for snow.
I’m staying in all day, but some places are open. Kramerbooks in Dupont is open, and they’re serving Snowpocalypses: Bailey’s Irish Cream, Godiva Chocolate liqueur & Peppermint Schnapps in hot chocolate.
My Tuesday night date, let’s call him MG, for Maine Guy, asked me for a second date before the first one was even over. “When can I see you again? Friday?” I told him I was going roller skating on Friday but free on Saturday. When he put me in the taxi at the end of the night, he said he’d call me about Saturday. I sent him a one-line thank you email on Wednesday morning. He wrote back, said he had fun, too. Then he said he was supposed to hear something about his new job on Friday, it was supposed to snow on Saturday, and maybe we should hold off on planning any dates “until things are more settled meteorologically and professionally.”
What the hell does that mean?
I keep trying to figure out if that was a brush-off, or if he really just wanted to wait until after this weekend to plan a date.
Guys, you do know that women spend ridiculous amounts of time trying to interpret stuff like this, right?
I know what you’re thinking, and no, I didn’t sleep with him. I was a model of restraint and decorum because I think he is actually worth dating.
If I had slept with him, the cancellation of the second date would make more sense to me.
Also, I am totally worth going out in the snow.
Today I remembered why I became a consultant. Because I saw so many really bad consultants in action, and every time I thought, I could do that so much better.
My colleagues and I have spent the last couple of days doing some intensive training. This morning we had two hours of training delivered by a consultant who managed to alienate the entire team in about 30 minutes. It would have been hilarious, if it were not so sad and frustrating.
One good thing: I was so proud of my teammates because despite the alienation, people worked hard to turn it around and get what they needed out of the training despite the consultant.
It occurred to me that if I had been able to articulate how my strengths as a consultant (the ability not to alienate people, for instance) in my business school applications, and show how that would be an asset to my teammates, I might be in business school right now. But I’m not, and that’s ok.
Here is my favorite moment of the day. We took a break partway through the training. (We had to ask for a break because the consultant did not build one in and we all were dying. So much for principles of adult learning.) When we came back, a second consultant had joined us as an observer, although nobody knew who he was or why he was there. At one point this consultant started talking, and when he was finished, one of my colleagues looked at him and said, “Excuse me, but who are you?” It was amusing.
Other amusing moments:
When the consultant told us that his specialty was motivation. After he had alienated us all.
When the consultant told us to remove the passive voice from our writing in order to become better communicators. Then he attempted to give us an example of the passive voice, except the example didn’t use the passive voice. So I turned to the colleague next to me and whispered, “That’s not the passive voice.” She whispered back, “I know it’s not. It’s the passive aggressive voice.”
I had a date last night. With a guy from Maine.
It’s kind of a funny story, actually. I saw his profile on a dating site this summer when we were both in Maine and “winked” at him. My marital status made him uncomfortable, he said, and so he disqualified me from his dating pool on the basis of a technicality. Now we’ve both moved to DC. He wrote to me through the dating site last week. I told him that my situation hadn’t changed but that the coincidence alone seemed like reason enough to have a drink.
The funniest thing–he’s from DC originally. So he was telling me all about what it was like to grow up here, and I was telling him all about what it was like to grow up in Downeast Maine.
We ended up having dinner and then going to a jazz club for awhile. It was the best first date I’ve had so far, especially conversation-wise. This was helpful in terms of recalibration–oh yeah, this is what a good date is like!
Here is the best moment of the whole night: We walked out into the snow; he hailed a taxi, put me in it, and PAID THE DRIVER. Now that is chivalry, people. And that is a man who knows how to act like one.
The phone would not stop ringing today. Guess who was calling? Boring, overeager, nice guys who do not take a hint when I am polite but unresponsive. Sometimes I sit across a table from these guys, or I look at my incessantly buzzing telephone, and I think, why are you acting like a woman? Why don’t you go read a pickup artist blog, dammit? If I can learn how to make small talk, the least you can do is learn how to act like a man. This must be what it feels like to be a guy and have girls harassing you all the time.
When I’m planning to meet someone, I usually give them my phone number so that they can text me if they are going to be late or have to cancel at the last minute. I can see I’m going to have to stop doing that.
Interestingly, I have become even more protective of my time now that I have been writing and exercising more. I would so much rather write than go on a coffee date. I’m sure this is a sign of some sort of progress. Still, I worry about striking a balance. I don’t want to become a recluse.
There has got to be some kind of happy medium between won’t leave you alone and doesn’t call for three weeks, right? Ugh.
Today was the three month anniversary at my new job. It feels like a lot longer than three months. (Not in a bad way.)
I played volleyball last night and wrote about it on Whip My Assets. What I didn’t say on that blog was how irritated I was with a couple of the guys I was playing with. The night started out well. The first game, I played with some competitive and skilled players and held my own even though I was rusty. Then someone came over from the second court and said that they needed more players and asked if anyone wanted to go over there. This turned out to be unfortunate because the people over on that court turned out to be the ones who “didn’t care about winning.” You know what that means, don’t you?
So they weren’t very good, which was no good to me in terms of getting back into the swing of things. Then I got stuck on a team with these two guys–who had absolutely no game of their own–and of course they couldn’t wait to coach the new girl. Narcissists. After awhile I just disengaged and let them do whatever they wanted. I should have told them to get the hell out of my way. Oh well. Next time I’ll play with the good people.
It was still fun.
I’ve been in DC three months this week, and I think I’m finally settling in. Even more than that, I feel like I’m getting used to the rhythms of my days, getting slightly better at managing my time and balancing all the things I want to do: work, explore, meet people, exercise, rest, etc. The greatest reward? My mind is more active and engaged than it has been in a very, very long time. I feel awake, energetic, creative, happy.
You heard me right, people. Happy.
Well, we’ll see how long that lasts. (There’s the cynical Carlita you know and love…)
This week was busy. On Thursday night I volunteered with the Department of Homeland Security making phone calls to grassroots community and faith-based organizations to talk about relief efforts in Haiti. I was kind of fascinated by this, actually. The basic idea was to call these organizations with the message that financial contributions are the most efficient and effective way to help. I also had a few websites and phone numbers to share and that sort of thing. What fascinated me was that DHS would be doing this kind of grassroots messaging. I was also fascinated that the list I was calling came from a website that was basically an asset map of faith-based organizations. What do you know. Homeland security using community organizing and asset-based community development tools. One person I spoke with said that he would never have gotten a call like that during Katrina, and that I had renewed his faith in our government’s capacity to respond to a crisis.
Last night I went roller skating for the first time, and it was so much fun. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before, but I put a “strictly platonic” ad up on craigslist looking for a skating partner. While Craig may not have supplied me the best dating material, he delivered me a fantastic skating coach. As soon as we got onto the rink last night, I knew that I was lucky to have him there to teach me the right way to do things so I won’t develop quite as many bad habits while I’m learning. He was great. Showing me the proper form, correcting me, pointing out when I was doing something right. I only fell twice, once before I even got onto the skating floor, and I managed not to fall on any little kids, so that was a minor victory. After skating for a couple of hours I felt like I had made a decent amount of progress, and again, it was so much fun.
The other thing I loved about last night? It was a cultural experience I would never have had in Maine. The rink was in Maryland, about a 30 minute drive from my building, and it was gospel night. The other skaters were mostly from churches in the area. At one point I looked around and realized that my new skating friend and I were the only white people there! Having been raised by evangelicals, however, I felt right at home at gospel night even when the DJ asked us all to get in a big circle in the middle of the rink to hold hands and pray. And when the DJ went over the rules for skating he said, “This is gospel night, and we are all God’s people, and we follow the rules.”
Last but not least, there is work. Next week will be the start of our busiest and most interesting time of year. As we have been gearing up, the work has become more intellectually stimulating, which helps to balance out the bureaucratic bits. Plus, I was assigned a new project that gives me a chance to draw on some of my other interests, includng social media. It’s invigorating. And when was the last time you heard me say my job was invigorating?
The other good sign at work is that over the last couple of weeks, I have noticed people beginning to come to me with questions. I got a few questions about statistics while we were reviewing reports recently, as well as process questions–things relating to how I organized my approach to a task to be more efficient. I think that’s good, and it makes me feel good to get to answer questions once in awhile, since learning requires me to be the one doing the asking most of the time.
Tonight I am catching up on laundry and bills and emails. Tomorrow I have more time set aside for writing. Yay!
