musings. i'm still procrastinating...

1. 2 days left in NYC and, yes, I'm not finished packing. And I worked the last 2 days on a (crazy) event...that left me super exhausted and, still, unpacked.

2. I'm so very, terribly, utterly ready to leave NYC. I'll miss my friends, public transportation, and the convenience of having anything you want whenever you want however you want. But that's it. Is that a lot?

3. I don't want to drive a truck again for a long, long, long time. After (barely) clipping another truck's mirror in DC, to a 1,200 mile long-haul in a 24-footer from DC to New Orleans, to - essentially - living in the cab of a 15-footer for the last 2 days, to, yes, taking care of my own move to Michigan (10-12 hours in a 16-footer with 100 lbs-worth of dog)...I have come to the conclusion that I'm not interested in being a long-haul trucker. Ever.

4. As much as it makes me nutso, I do love the event world. There's something bonding about being up all night, working your ass off, being soaking wet (sweat or rain), having dirty fingernails, playing with 'snips' and leathermen, having a crap-tacular event tan (think worse than farmer's)...the list could go on.

5. I have really great friends.

6. Coming out of semi-retirement is gonna be difficult. Especially as I'm heading into a true, indefinite period of retirement while I'm hanging out with the madre. Although, there are many odd jobs I could (and probably will) do, not knowing how long I'll be there makes decision-making difficult.

7. I was pulled over (in a truck) for the first time in nearly 10 years recently...and I haven't been that flustered or pee-my-pants nervous in a really long time.

8. I've been obsessing about what squirrel poop looks like. Anyone know? You see bum poo, dog poo, cat poo, and bird poo all the time. I've seen horse, elephant, sheep, goat, camel, and more. But I have no idea what squirrel poo looks like.

9. I'm tired. Really, really tired. Ok. Gotta go pack.

First goodbye - check!

My first goodbye was sprung upon me today. I get back from a grueling trip to DC by way of New Orleans (long story - ask if you dare :) ), to go play with My Main Man (MMM), Humphrey, Thursday morning. Get there, hangin' out, being smooched by a 2 1/2 year old Golden, and his dad (Linc) happens to let it slip that they're taking BACK off to the Adirondacks for another 10 days.

WHAT????

So, the tears immediately appear. And I cry the entire time Humph-a-dunk and I are out wandering the wilds of the UWS. MMM is being super patient and snuggly with me, trying to figure out what's going on.

It was a sudden rrrrrrrip of a goodbye, but, I can't lie, methinks it was actually less painful than saying little goodbyes for the next week.

That Linc is a good man...and a great friend. I'll miss him and our political chats just as much as I'll miss his lunk of a pooch!

Keepin' it real.

So, why is it that it's the most mundane of tasks that makes a move feel real? Changing my address for magazines and cancelling my gym membership made me feel like I'm moving.

Crap. I'm moving!

Randomness.

1. My newest self-challenge. Anyone wanna join me? I haven't, um, started yet...but I'm gonna!

2. I'm actually looking forward to spending some time with the fam (and new nephew!) in Michigan. Notsomuch looking forward to finishing the packing, having a stoop sale, loading the truck, driving 600 miles (with 2 dogs in the cab!), and then unloading the truck. But, hey, that's life, right???

3. My sleeping bag is even more traveled than *I* am!!! My friend, Evelyn, got a killer chance to go to Rwanda for a couple weeks and was told she might need a sleeping bag...so, The Marmot got to go! Unfortunately, she found out after lugging it all the way there that she, um, DIDN'T need it after all. But, hey, that's life, right? (Seeing a theme??)

4. I think I'm addicted to rotisserie chicken. My roommate has the Showtime Rotisserie and it ROCKS. I love it...and my dogs think it's better than TV - they just sit there watching and salivating.

5. I've been spending so much time meandering down Memory Lane that I decided to start looking up a whole bunch of folks I haven't talked to in a gazillion years. Some are Google-able, but even more are on Facebook! Who knew?!?! C'mon, Burks, get with the program. Everybody's doin' it!!!

6. Some really, truly interesting jobs crawled out of the woodwork this past week, so, fingers crossed, something happens!!! Granted, Dallas wouldn't be my first choice, but it would be an a-m-a-z-i-n-g opportunity. Just sayin'...

7. Fresh Direct boxes are the *perfect* size for packing books.

8. 35 days...and counting. Ouch.

9. There's a hurricane named after me!!!!! Although, I guess I shouldn't be happy that I'm bringing potential death and destruction to folks, huh?

It's a happy thought!

On a random sidenote, I'm totally addicted to Californication and The Tudors. Who knew Showtime had a respectable lineup??? And thank you Netflix for giving me a helluva lot of viewing pleasure!!!!

Holy crap...I hate it when I can't sleep!!

Yep. Woke up randomly in the middle of the night. Started out as one of those "I'm just rolling over" things, but has turned into a fully-fledged freak out. I was laying here thinking about all manner of really fun, peaceful night-time thoughts like: the logistics of leaving, when to rent a truck, will all my s&*% fit into a 16' truck like I hope/expect/need...you know, the easy things.

So, I decided I'd make myself feel better and actually price things out/quasi-plan rather than pontificate at 4:30am on Sunday morning. Well, eff me if it isn't going to cost a LOT to head to Michigan to go squat at my mom's house. $700 for the "privilege" of driving all my stuff cross-country by myself!!!!!!!! I figured it'd be expensive, but CRAP! Factor in some gas...whoa nelly.

And then, to make it, ya know, BETTER, I decided to look at actual driving dates. Well, it'll have to be mid-week the last week in September. Which, for some reason, FREAKS ME OUT even though it should all be expected. But no...I continue to freak out.

Fun. At not even 6:00am. Anyone have a AAA code I can use???

The Best Revenge.

Normally, I don't buy into the idea of revenge...never have, don't often now. I really do believe it's a waste of time and that, by hook or by crook, karma will getcha worse than I ever could.

So, why would I bring up revenge now, one could ponder. Well, because I am (sounds like: "because I said so," a la all our moms). I learned a really crappy lesson last night. One that - stupid hindsight - isn't really unexpected and is par for the effed up course as it pertains to this particular scenario.

No, I don't want to fully explain or, really, talk about it. Maybe tomorrow, but right now, I'm too raw and pissed off (mostly at myself) and hurt and livid. Many of y'all haven't ever seen me lose my temper. True, I get pissy-tacular a whole lot, but I can count on one hand the number of times I've truly gone apeshit. I'm pretty there right now...just nothing to do with it.

My revenge? Well, that's where I'll redirect all this anger. And what'll it be? To live a whole, happy life that's full of love. And I'll get ridiculously skinny in the process because all I want to do is run, kick and punch a bag, and lift weights furiously. I'm learning, today, that extreme anger motivates me to work out.

...by tomorrow, in all honesty, I'll probably be back to much more Sane Hannah. But right now, I'm not.

Clue: My Friskyscope as posted from earlier this week was dead on...read the 'sucky' part. Those who may be in the know, well, let's just say there I ran into the only person in NY I always see and really don't want to. No, that's not the part that makes me angry.

Friskyscope is SPOT ON!!!

This week's Friskyscope for me:

Sagittarius (November 22 - December 21)

Career recognition will be at an all time high. Friendship satisfaction? Another high scorer. Love life? Less than stellar and not looking like it’s got any life coming to revive its dismal circumstances. Sure, that might be a sucky attitude to have, but this week, being a realist will save you much time and energy that you otherwise would have forced yourself to expend.

At least I know my priorities where already in alignment. Yep, "sucky" is an understatement...but, well, uh, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, right?!

I have the BEST friends. The B-E-S-T. My "Be Fri" friends...

(Just ask me. You know you wanna. "Be Fri"???)

One of the things I've been truly lucky to collect over the years is amazing - a-m-a-z-i-n-g - friends. Granted, I should amend that to "since I've been an adult"...but who's counting, right?

In my teens, the ones who stayed in touch became my Best Friends simply because we stayed in touch. And, truly, friends of "historical" context are wonderful...because they have the history. (Or is that "terrifying" and not "wonderful"??) Unfortunately, that's something I'm figuring out much later in life only because I've only stayed in touch with folks from high school on. But they ARE wonderful!!

In my 20s, I stumbled upon the most fantastic group of friends. The stories. The adventures. The fights, the make-ups, the horror, the happiness...part of being in your 20s and figuring it all out, right??? God bless 'em for forgiving me and letting me back into their lives. (No, I wasn't the nicest back then...my world was very (read: VERY) black and white...I haven't softened completely, but I've softened a LOT compared to then.)

In my 30s, I'm getting to know myself, really know myself. (Hey, my 30s aren't even half over yet! I'm workin' on it!!!) Getting to know yourself provides you with a wonderful - THE most wonderful - group of friends. I can quite honestly say that the friends I have now will be friends of mine for forever. They'll become the newest, improved-upon "historical" friends. And, yes, they're making NY a very difficult place to leave simply because they're here.

[NOTE: Interestingly, a high school "historical" friend can be included in the Now friends circle. What does "historical" squared mean???]

So, Peggy, Whitney, Alison, Lydia P., Kelly, Greer, Alice, Elynn, Stephanie B., Roooooooooney, Reeny, Christine K., Karen, Nancy, Shaina, Evelyn, vanO, Cass, Terri, Jen S., Renee...and my "token" men: Lincoln, Morgan, Volpe, Decker, Ken, MJ, Ted, and, yes, even Crawford & Lucas. J - you're in your own category altogether. You're not all here, physically, in NYC for my "NY years," but I will always associate our friendships with me being in NY. You've all had stiff competition from my friends "back in the day"...but let's just call this your official shout out. And then you can hug me awkwardly and pat me on the back when I start to cry whenever I see you next, m'kay???

I haven't always loved the lessons I've learned. And you certainly haven't loved me every moment of our friendship - and vice versa. But, Gawd, have you all played a super, duper, wonderful, ass-kickin', kick ass role in my life. Thank you.

No. Really. (Like Ev & I would do - REALLY? Really. Really!) Thank you. Thank. You.

P.S. "Stiff competition" includes, but is by no means limited to: Jammin' J, Amy B., Tall Beth, Short Beth, Michele (where's the cellulite?) S., Oy-yay Oy-yay, Zeiggy, Kat, Wendy K., Gooooot, Amanda Sue, Missy, Mary H., NeNa, Chele, Cindy R., the Furry Redhead, Kevin B., and ALL of the Hammers (but, really, Al - you rocked my world!).

P.P.S. If we're going old, old, OLD school, then "stiff competition" would be Greer (again), Carla, Sammy, Trish, Zaborowska, Miki...TASIS, Izmir, and Greenhills - all y'all made me just as nutty as a girl could possibly be and I LOVE having you as a part of my life. (I CAN blame it on you, right???)

P.P.P.S. The oldest school I can get is Harriet, Margaret S., Sasha used-to-be-C., Mom, Dad, and Jingles. I guess it's you kids that I should really credit with how wonderfully I've turned out, huh? ;)

Lookit what I found...

I found SO many treasures today, but one of them was this poem. And, yes, it resonated.

Imagine a Woman

Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman.
Awoman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman who trusts and respects herself.
A woman who listens to her needs and desires.
Who meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman who acknowledges the past's influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.
Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and wisest voice.

Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body's rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman who honors the body of the Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her life energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine yourself as this woman.

Pretty cool, huh?

Holy got my butt kicked yesterday!!!

And I'm so not kidding. I went to a random Total Body Conditioning class at the gym yesterday. I thought I'd been to this club and this time slot before, but, um, no. I was wrong. Way wrong.

She looked nice enough. Young and, yes, I may have assumed that youth = inexperience.

Wrong. Way wrong.

Holy butt-kicking workout. TBC is usually a pretty good overall workout - everything gets targeted at least a little bit. This class hit all muscle groups a LOT. It was much more like a personal training session at warp speed. She threw in functional training with kettle bell-like moves with 'traditional' free weight stuff.

The one that got me the most was a move that I can't even begin to describe other than it hurt. Which, yes, means it works. But, boy, did I find my abs. And my butt. And my back. And my shoulders. And my obliques.

One would assume I'd not want to go back...instead, when's the next one? ;)

52 card pick up.

It occurred to me this morning that my life, right now, resembles a game of 52 card pick up. Remember that game? How you toss THE ENTIRE DECK OF CARDS into the air and see where they land. Unfortunately, the sap that's tossing is me. Even more unfortunate is that the sap that gets to pick up - and live with - the pieces is also me.

It's gonna be a bit of a wild ride for the next few months. Have some gut feelings about certain things happening, but really? I have no control...and I kinda like it. Freaks me the eff out, but I like it.

Really.

Trimming the fat...

is difficult. But terribly necessary sometimes. I have 'things' I'm trimming - the stuff in my house, clothes, books...and a person here and there. Interesting how that happens, eh? How when you start to trim the 'stuff' that's not healthy for you, the Universe rewards you with healthy things, people, and places?

I get it logically. It's just more difficult to take action sometimes. I've had a few experiences of late, though, where it became really, REALLY, R-E-A-L-LY! easy to make that decision and take those actions.

Here's to me gettin' all healthy-like!

Running, running, and more running!

Yep, there are more half marathons on the schedule! If I'm still around, I plan on doing Grete's Great Gallop on October 4th (or 5th)...and saying hello for the last (local) time to my Avon Walk peeps at Closing Ceremonies.

If I do end up hanging out in Michigan for any length of time whilst job searching, then I'll do the Detroit Free Press Half Marathon, too. Just for fun and to give me something non-jobsearch-related to do!

A bunch of us are already registered for the Las Vegas Half Marathon in December. Talk about an awesome birthday road trip, right??? And - AND - there's a 'Showgirls' division!!! No, not for showgirls who want to run...but for folks who want to run dressed up as a Showgirl. How AWESOME!!!! Soooooooo gonna wear a costume!!! If nothing else, it's a guaran-damn-tee that I'll train my heiney off. There's nothing like the fear of exposed, jiggling body fat to get me running and to the gym.

And then we're on to next year...Gasparilla!!!! Everything's pirate-themed. I might even lie and say that it's my first Half Marathon just so they'll ring the Maiden Voyage bell for me and get my medal from a PIRATE!!!!

And, yes, I might even do ING Miami. Seriously.

The reason for all this running? Well, besides keeping me skinny and traveling again, check out Half2run.com...a half marathon in half the states! That's the goal!!!

I'm a huge fan!

Of the stink'n'drink! Takes me back to my old AWBC days when we'd be on the lot 'til FOREVER, come back to the hotel, and hit the bar. There's something powerfully (stinky) bonding about a bunch of event wack-a-doos sitting in a bar throwing 'em back.

Then people started to shower before coming back to the bar...bad, bad, bad!!! If I ever went up to my hotel room, there's no way I'm comin' back down.

I miss the good ol' days!

I can't believe Patrick Swayze is dying.

As I (re)watch Dirty Dancing for the gazillionth time, with Patrick Swayze lookin' smokin' hot and sexy and groovy, I can't believe he's dying. Yeah, yeah, I know that life AND death both happen, but seriously!??!?!

Johnny's gonna be gone? No invading my dance space? No sexy dancing with Baby...or bringing her out of the corner?

Sad, sad day 'twill be when he passes...

holy crap...

I know I'm awesome. My mom raised me to think so...she's ended nearly every conversation with me - ever! - by saying "you're the best!" But, um, wow. She just rewrote my (already pretty kick ass) resume...and I sound AMAZING. a-MAAAAAAAAAAA-zing. AMAZING.

Yes, I could go on ad nauseum. But 'amazing' pretty much covers it.

Moms rock. For SO many reasons. Appreciate yours. Now.

Amendment to change being good...(see below)

The only thing I DON'T like about change is the starting over with friends. Ok, so I'll walk into a new job and meet people. I'll volunteer or meet people through dog-related activities. Or maybe a running group or something. But I have such a wonderful, amazing, diverse range of friends here...I just wish I could bottle 'em up and take 'em with.

Yes, yes, I have fan-tab-u-lous friends all over the place. And, no, I haven't lost contact with many, many of them. Being in my nearly mid-30s, though, I'm sick of making new friends in new places. I've done it all my life.

So, who wants to move with me?? ;) Or I guess I could move where I already know peeps, huh?

change really is good...

Yes, so after a couple days of adjusting to a new, tighter deadline than expected, I'm ok. Most of my HOLY EFF reaction was much more because I hate being told what to do. ;) I'm just so not good at following other people's timelines. (And here I am going BACK to the working world? Oy vey!)

A little nervous, definitely some fear cropping up, but overall I'm really quite excited for a new adventure. Nothing like getting what you asked for, right? I can quite honestly say I have no idea where I'll end up. Or, really, what I'll be doing. I have ideas as to both - the what and the where, but who knows in the end?

So, I bought the space bags to start packing clothes. I'm starting the book and clothing purge on Thursday (I was blessed with a random day off!). My mom and I are working on my resume this morning so I can start sending it out to people fully updated and snazzified!

Mom was even rather receptive when I, somewhat tentatively, broached the subject of the dogs and I crashing with her in Michigan if, for some reason, the Magic Job doesn't materialize by September.

Options...there are always options!

90 days. or 3 months?

Why is it that saying "90 days" out loud gives me a feeling I can only akin to a heart attack? But that "3 months" doesn't reduce me to automatic panic? They're the same, right???

Well, this weekend, my landlord made me aware that I have 90 days, or 3 months, to be out of my apartment unless I want to sign a new, year-long lease. Nothing says, "Hannah your life is changing" quite like news like that, eh?

And, yeah, he sent me a text on July 4th. Happy freakin' Independence from life as you know it, eh?

So. Now. I guess I need a job and to move. Shite.