Tag Archives: moving

Lasting Friendships and Corporate Lingo Bingo

I had a light bulb moment earlier today while driving back from Le Subway, my exotic lunch of choice for 90% of my work days. It was sort of a deep and insightful light bulb, and there was a moment where I was sad, nostalgic, happy, regretful, and contemplative all at once. I immediately decided to write about it, make it less of a depressing thought by sharing it with you people, and throwing in some jokes to lighten it up whilst dissecting. Because that’s my style. We are not super serious here at Miss Sassy Pants, because we don’t take our sassy pants too seriously, unless they are just seriously sassy. See how I did that? Also not sure why I used “we,” since it’s just me here in these pants. [Baa! That one was for you, Senator]

So now here I am, taking a break from wrestling and arguing with the biggest, slowest, most complicated excel spreadsheet ever (bet you didn’t know they could wrestle or argue…now you know) to get this jank down on proverbial paper. Also I challenge you to a game of corporate lingo bingo. 10 points for everyone who spots them all (also fun to play on conference calls, but that’s not for this post). Here we go.

One of the biggest take-aways from this rotational program is the human experience. It’s not necessarily all about how many muckity-mucks I schmooze with, how many high-impact initiatives I participate in, what my visibility is compared to my colleagues and peers, or my success rate (thank goodness). It’s the people I meet and interact with, how I learn to interact with different personalities, different kinds of bosses, finding my place in the work community and “life” community (aka outside of work), making new friends and forming relationships, and learning which gas station sells the cheapest gas (a moot point out here, as I sacrifice future unborn children each time I fill up). It’s the soft skills, and if my HR manager was reading this, he’s be so proud as he is always stressing to us kids in the program how important the soft skills are.

The first rotation in Richmond was easy. I had previously lived there for a good number of years, aka my entire life minus roughly 4 years of college, so suffice it to say I knew people. I knew where to go, I had friends, and I had places nearby I could easily visit and know more people. Does that make me sound ridiculously cool and popular? No? Well you’re right, I wasn’t, but my point is, I had a network, I had family, and I knew people at work from the previous summer working there. Like training wheels, this situation let me learn slowly and safely about the “real world,” as real as a world can be while living in the same town you grew up in and still living with your parents and paying no bills. Have a chuckle, and we’ll move on. Then after 6 months of regularity, good work out schedule, my designated parking spot where I parked daily, good pals, weekly lunch outings, and Law & Order marathons with my parents, not to mention close proximity to VT (very important),  it was all brought to an abrupt halt.

On to Raleigh, where I knew approximately 2 people and moved in with this random chick I found on Craig’s List (she’s awesome btw, and we’re now friends…thanks Craig). I missed my friends, having tons of Hokies nearby, and knowing which bars to go to for a cheap drink and good time. It took me a little while, but after a couple months I had new (good) friends, pals at work, my “place” socially at work, and had a routine of regular things I did and people I saw. It was like I actually lived there. Then once I got used to it and settled, I up and moved myself to California. Which, among other things, means I’d be away – far, far away from Virginia Tech during football season. Talk about depressing.

And so it seems that two times of settling, connecting, and routine-ing is enough for me to adjust how I think about and do things during these short stints of life. I have found myself frequently thinking, “well if it’s only x number of months left, what’s the point?” Why form bonds and connect with people, only to up and leave a short time later and more than likely see none of them possibly ever again, aside from Facebook updates? Luckily for me, when I think these things, I immediately recognize the depressing-ness of them and do something deliberately opposite of those thoughts. Like make plans and do something to capitalize on fun.

But then other times I can’t get motivated to make the effort to meet people or meet up with the people I have met. There’s logistics, getting to know them, figuring out if I actually like them and if they like me, if we have anything in common, forming bonds, blah blah blah. Making and maintaining friends (and especially good friends) really is a lot of work, so then I think, well I’m not staying here so why am I putting in all this effort to form relationships with people who will soon be 3,000 miles away from me? And also I’d argue that some people would feel the same about me. Why will they put in a lot of effort to reach out to me when they know I will be gone soon, when they could be making time with more permanent people? I could visit, we say, or they could visit me, at some vague point in the future. It’s not such a big world anymore that San Francisco is inaccessible from Raleigh. And I may or may not do this, but none of us are made of that kind of money. But you get the point. It’s a balance. I fight loneliness and laziness to try to find a balance between being a total loner / hermit for 6 months, and putting work into making bonds which will possibly hurt me later when severed (or at least transferred to somewhere less tangible like the interwebs). But really, this shouldn’t be the first thought after meeting new people…I mean really: “Gosh, you are nice and seem pretty cool,  I think we could be friends, but I’m not sure I want to hang out anymore for fear that I might really miss you at some indiscriminate time in the distant future, so let’s examine the ROI before we spend man-hours to take this initiative further through the development life cycle.” Right! Who does that? No one.

I have no regrets, and when I think about making plans, accepting or saying no thanks to invites, I always consider this. Which will I regret more: going and doing, or not going and not doing? We know the answer. I am grateful for my job, for the chance to live somewhere other than Richmond via company funds, and to meet as many different people and see as many new things as possible. After all, we learn from each other, do we not? And no doubt I can only benefit from forming as many friendships and strategic partnerships as possible. Whether things turn out for better or worse, I will have learned something from them, and learned more about myself. Which is apparently what the 20-something years are all about, so they say. Whoever they are. They seem to know a lot, so we’ll take their word.

So I long-winded this one a bit and went over my self-imposed word limit, but whatevs. Anyone agree or disagree with me? If you disagree, I’d say you might be weird or have issues. But I’m open minded. Plus, it’s sassy to be adventurous and to put oneself “out there,” where ever there happens to be. Go forth and be sassy.

Also, I managed 10 to 13 corporate lingo bingo words, which I’d say is decent considering the mostly personal topic. High five if you found them all.

Left my parka in Virginia. Which is bad since it’s FREEZING COLD here.

Oh, the land of fruits and nuts. The People’s Republic of California. It is a large state, and spans pretty much the entirety of the west coast from north to south, which you’d know unless you skipped all of elementary school. I said pretty much. So apparently when people talk about “sunny California” they actually only mean LA and/or San Diego, since San Francisco at this time of year is really more like the fictional vampire-ridden town of Forks, only with high-rises and turrible traffic.

In fact, and apparently everyone knew this except for me, it is freezing cold and foggy in San Francisco pretty much all the time. If I had a dime for every time someone told me the little anecdote about Mark Twain saying, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco,” I’d be able to reimburse myself for my plane ticket out here, my Hertz rental car, and the security deposit on my new fancy schmancy apartment. Seriously. And it hasn’t even been 2 weeks. Luckily for me, I had the foresight to look up regional weather patterns prior to making the trek out here so I had a couple (couple = 2) cardigans and a cute spring jacket with 3/4 length sleeves with me! Which of course all turned out to be NOT ENOUGH coverage even when worn all at the same time.

But enough complaining, because honestly I don’t even live in true San Francisco so the frigid summer temperatures don’t affect me all that much. But still. Picture my surprise/goosebumps when Roomz and I first hit fresh air off the airplane only to discover that we were both mistakenly dressed for Hawaii. Brnt. Shivering on my part began .5 seconds later. Luckily as I said, we ended up choosing to live in the east-most area that is still considered East Bay, and thanks to a little baby mountain range we are protected from the bizarre fog that literally rolls in with zero notice and takes the temps down 20 degrees in .5 seconds. It’s nice, but also sort of weird since when we leave for work in the morning, it’s hovering around 50. By lunch, I’m still needing a cardigan, but when we leave for the day in the evening, it’s hovering around 90. Weird! Hard to complain since typically I’d be drenched in sweat walking to my car in the gloriously hot and humid Richmond summers. I miss them, but not that much.

I’m adjusting well though, since the other great thing about this cute little town we picked is that it has a famous shopping district! [Poppa Pants, no need to read further.] That’s right folks, the downtown area, complete with wine bars, 20 Chinese and Thai restaurants, a couple diners, and the best mall in the world is just a short trolley ride away! Imagine my joy when I discovered that not only do we live SO close to this mecca, but I can ride a trolley to get there. Ok fine it’s just a bus that looks like a trolley, but whatevs. And BONUS, the trolley is free. You know, Miss Sassy always pinching pennies where she can. So to combat not having appropriate clothing, I of course have hit up sales looking to Californiarize my work wardrobe. It has worked gloriously thus far (on a budget, obvs) and I am thoroughly pleased. Also I never understood boots in the summer (what is the point of a “summer bootie” when I want to wear as little as possible…) and was clearly full of judgement for ladies wearing suede boots in August, but since all weather in the summer is not 100+ degrees with 100 billion percent humidity, I get it now! And will soon be adding these to my collection (I know, they’re so cute right!). Stoked. Little East Coast girl, learning some fashion/life lessons. How quaint.

And look at me keeping to my posting schedule. Happy Monday, ya’ll!

Holy Liberals, Batman! It’s California!

Ohmahgah! So I know it’s been a gagillion years since there’s been fresh juice from this orange, but a quick glance at my reader odometer tells me readership is not down that much. Thanks ya’ll. So what the heck has been happening? Tons and lots and mucho. Once again my social calendar is jam packed to the brim, men all up on my cell phone, ladies all jealous of my fab new haircut and shoe collection. And again just joking. Quick run-down: I moved out of my fab ex-roommates’ house (miss you girls) in Raleigh and came back to live at Casa di Momma Sassy and Poppa Pants for 4 weeks whilst enduring the torture that is 3 weeks of IT training put upon me by my gainful employer. I saw everyone possible, had a fun girls weekend, planned an awesome reunion trip to DC that I unfortunately had to bail on because hey! I moved to California!

There are so many stories I could tell/will tell eventually I’m sure, but for now I want to reflect on things that I have noticed initially that are SO different here on the left coast. Things that I have tabulated in my head over the last 7 days include but are not limited to the following items. There is no sweet tea here. Just “iced tea.” There are LOTS of Prius’s. Like LOTS. And people who drive them are more annoying than usual, with stickers on the back bragging that they passed some emissions test that every vehicle has to pass anyway in this state. Big freaking deal, you’re compliant with the law. There is no good college football, and no one really cares that there isn’t any good college football except for me apparently. I miss Chick-fil-a and Bojangles breakfast buiscuits and potatoes. Children are just as annoying here as they are anywhere else. Weed is about to be legalized here for realz, despite the fact that everyone knows it would get the hold-up from the Feds. I say it’s a good idea because then maybe California wouldn’t be about to declare bankruptcy every day. No one knows how to merge here, so that is something that reminds me of pretty much any place in the world I’ve been where merging is necessary. They love their organic yogurt here. Like in a weird obsessive way. They love organic anything here. The public transportation rocks. No one says “ya’ll” but me. Shampoo costs $20 instead of $6. Gas costs $90/gallon instead of just $2.50. Apartment hunting is just as difficult here as anywhere, but more expensive. A/C is not standard anywhere. Everyone has those weird looking shoe/sandal hybrids that I think are Fugly. The fog over San Francisco is gorgeous. It is not warm here like I thought it would be. And lastly, anyone who doesn’t have a Prius has a Mini just like me. It’s cool but also makes me feel unoriginal, BUT I bet they’ll all give me the peace sign back when I wave UNLIKE everyone in VA/NC who I waved to in a Mini. Jerks.

So that’s my quickie update! I have dubbed my new roomz Big D for lack of a creative genius moment/I’m tired of using Roomz and it’s confusing for all my previous roommates. He’s a nice guy and apparently likes to cook, which I see benefiting me in the future since we all know I enjoy bowls of cereal in liu of real meals on the reg. He doesn’t want to be talked about on this here jank so I will try to respect his wishes, but he must know (if he is reading) that if he keeps requesting to not be mentioned that the chances of me mentioning him increase. Anywho, we are getting along fine and both getting tired of being confused for a married couple. Buying mattresses together gives people that impression apparently, even when you are buying 2 queens instead of just one.

If anyone is coming to visit please do leave a note and we’ll plan some fun times! Alternatively, if you have any recommendations on places I should visit while I am here let me know! I have about 20 weekends until I move away, and I can’t wait to fill them all.

PS! New functions thanks to WordPress/whoever designed my theme! Rate enties, “Like” entries, subscribe to MSP! Subscribers get extra benefits, like being notified ASAP when I post something, and possibly future giveaways. I just came up with that but seriously it could happen. So DO IT.

East Coast Girls Are Hip, Southern Girls Knock You Out

Yes, I botched the lyrics, but it was on purpose for the sake of the title. And the reason that I am semi-quoting the Beach Boys’ famous song about California girls is because I’m about to become one! I don’t actually think I will “become” a California girl as I am not even sure what that entails, but I am at the very least moving there for my next rotation, and will pose as a California girl and/or a disastrously misplaced east coast girl living on the west coast for the next 6 months. Exciting! So I have embarked yet again into the wilderness that is Craigslist to try to find someone equally as awesome as my current landlord. I am highly skeptical since she is, like, super awesome, but I am of course maintaining a positive attitude.

Unlike the Raleigh area, Pleasant Hill is one of mucho cities in the San Francisco Bay area. There are a billion choices of little neighborhoods, town-ish places, etc. to choose from. Should I live 2 seconds from work again like I did here? Benefits: I am always late, a lesser commute seems to be helpful. Non-benefit: lack of social scene, lack of urban coolness. Should I live in San Fran and try my hand at super cool west coast urban living? Benefits: being a super cool west coast urbanite. Non-benefit: 30 or 40 minute commute, circa my first rotation in the ‘Mond going to and from Goochland, only longer and with more traffic. Hm. Other options include Berkeley, which looks pretty cute and is very conveniently located halfway between work and the super cool urbanism of SanFran (new word: urbanism). Benefits: awesome location, cute Victorian homes. Non-benefits/potential downsides: I am not a vegetarian by any stretch and did not vote for Obama…two things I fear will disqualify me from living in this region. But again, open minds, one and all. I’m not worried, truly, since I will be oozing southern charm and class from every pore. JP ya’ll.

I am also contemplating roommate choices. There are infinitely more dudes looking for roommates than there are ladies. While we could suppose why this is all day, we can skip that and move right on to the real question: can I or can I not live with a boy that I don’t know? There are so many benefits to living with dudes in my opinion, and should the occasion ever arise that I could live with any of my loving dude friends I would jump at the chance (with few exceptions), especially given that most of them are cleaner than me. Bonus. [Whether they would jump at the chance to live with me…whole other story.] But boys I don’t know are completely different. Benefits include the following: 1) Body guarding. Nothing like a big strong live-in dude to defend me from bad guys. 2) Reaching things in high up places. I have mentioned this before, and I know not all dudes are tall but I also know all dudes are taller than me. 3) Other dude friends. I love dudes, and not just because I may or may not simply love men, I’m one of those girls who refers to herself as a “guys’ gal.” Whatever that means. I’ve always had more dude friends than girls, so whatever. 4) Less drama! Admittedly, my current situation is a drama-free zone (which I love love love. Roomz, you rock) but we all know girls living together increases the drama possibilities by 64,789 times. Dudes are just simpler creatures, and I really enjoy this.

Non-benefits of living with a guy include the following: 1) Extreme skepticism from Momma Sassy and Poppa Pants. You may say it shouldn’t matter what they think but ya’ll they know how to play the co-ed living tsk-tsk card, and will play it until I am married and probably even then. Threats include everything from death to impregnation to “pig-sty bathrooms,” all of which are undesirable, and it’s extremely exhausting to defend all of this 24/7. 2) Some men are gross – see previous comment about pig-sties. Admit it dudes. You are, as a gender in general, just not delicate. It could be dangerous to my health. 3) He could be a skeeze. It’s always possible, and then I could end up…impregnated. Ahem. Anywho. Things to consider. I will obviously report back later.

Moving to CA means that this is my last week in R-town and I must admit I am close to devastated. I have come to love this place and will miss it and my new pals dearly. Also, side note, I’ll be back in Richmond for the rest of the month of July so give me a holler on my cellular device if you’re around! Miss Sassy wants to see you and your beautiful faces.

PS! If anyone knows anyone close to San Fran or has any tips for me please holler! Comments welcome. Visits encouraged. Sass present at all times.

Old Roomz, New Roomz, Yellow Curtains

Recently Mr. Smarty Pants aka new nickname Roomz (Roomz III truly, since two of my previous roommates have had this nickname) has moved into la Casa degli Pantaloni Sfacciati (House of the Sassy Pants, in Italian. Fun to say: “sfah-chee-ah-tee”) for a few months while he is job searching! All my life I have wished for a big brother. I wanted him to be older (check – one month), have a driver’s license (check) and a car (check) so he could drive me to McDonald’s to get french fries and a McFlurry (haven’t convinced him to do this yet). I’m not making this up, I really did want this. A little girls dream, no? It is painfully obvious I am an only child. What big brother would ever drive his annoying little sister to McDonald’s?? I was delusional. But luckily for my new Roomz, I no longer eat fast food (except on special occasions like today when I went to 5 guys…heart attack for one please), and also I have my very own driver’s license and vehicle! Anyway, having a roommate/brother is really pretty awesome. The benefits include but are not limited to the following: Poppa Pants is happier having another male in the house (score).  Roomz is way tall and can get things out of tall cabinets/high shelves so my dear mother and I don’t risk our lives teetering on a stool or ladder.  Roomz gives excellent outfit advice and is not afraid to tell me when I look trife, which is fairly often.  He is a morning person which means I have yet another being in my house to make me feel guilty for being late to work. Every day. Whatevs. Point is, it’s super fun and I am slightly saddened that come this Saturday I will be vacating my parents house (!!!!!!) and leaving Roomz III to be alone with my parents.  Really they’re not so bad, I pretty much love them.  Also I’m fairly certain I’ve been replaced as most beloved child. Apparently he cooks breakfast and makes coffee every morning, walks the dogs and gets the mail. Hello? Miss Sassy Who?

Other updates: As I just stated, I’m moving next Saturday! My adventure to Raleigh was a success and I met this really nice chica who I found on craigslist (recall I mentioned my skepticism) and she was totally not weird! Totally nice and normal in fact, and owner of a completely adorable home which is super close to my new office building. Woohoo, low gas costs! So I will be moving into her third furnished bedroom and beginning a new life with Roomz IV (and Roomz V since she also has another roommate). I must admit I’m super excited and also a little anxious. Less anxious because I picked out some super cute curtains (and look how precious these are!) and have a color scheme and cute DIY decorating ideas to implement ASAP when I move. Yes that’s right, implement. Perhaps I will update with pictures once I decorate the new stanza (room) degli Pantaloni Sfacciati. Minor italian lesson for everyone today, enjoy.  And yes, I am deviating from the ever-present pink-ness that is my existence.  I know, completely shocking. My bedrooms for the past  9 years (minimum) has looked something like this. The best part is that I had some pink lamp shades in the room so even the things that weren’t pink (white bedspread) had a pink glow. Yikes. Anywho, if anyone is in the Raleigh neighborhood, the research triangle/octagon, or traveling down 85/95 holler at Miss Sassy! I love visitors.

Side note: This post is in the Trifeness category but it’s really not about trifeness. It’s possible that I need a new category! Ideas? Anyone? Leave me some comment love! It’s like a virtual hug, and I love hugs.

Silly boys, it’s called “Sass” not “Ass,” and I’ve got both!

Hello dear friends, and other people who read this blog! Some of you have been asking where Miss Sassy has gone, and let me tell you she’s been around. She’s on her game, or rather, I’M on my game, and just so busy being sassy that I don’t even have time to tell you about it. JP. But seriously, lack of inspiration, “busyness” at work, PMS (rawr), gyming, laziness, ridiculous laundry, and etc. are the reasons I have not reported since last week. But do not fret, we’re back. We = me and my pants, apparently.

Here’s the topic for today: boys are trife (surprise). Ok fine, most boys are trife, as some of you are actually quite normal and able to communicate effectively and not be triflin skeez balls.  In general I think it’s annoying when boys aren’t straighforward or capable of communicating with me. And if you are a boy who does not like straightforward gals, then move on, because I am not the girl for you.  If you are confused by this statement, here’s an example text convo which might help clarify:
Him: come over [time: 2:47am after a Friday night out…need I say more]
Me: I’m already home, sorry
Him: come play guitar hero with me, you owe me [! I owe nothing.]
Me: Like I said, already home. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to just play guitar hero, in which case I’m def not coming over.
Him: geez, no need to be so straightforward.

Really? Because I prefer it.  Don’t even get me started on this “you owe me” business. And I really have no interest in playing guitar hero at 3am.  Not a good way to woo me, if that is your intention. Also I’m not a skank, since anyone who was born at least 2 days ago knows that wasn’t really an invite to test my guitar or singing skills. Skeez.  It’s like he’s offended by my straightforwardness. As if we’re in the 15th century when ladies didn’t make eye contact and never spoke to men. Quite a few things have happened to advance woman’s position in society in the last few centuries, in case anyone skipped every history class since Kindergarten. Just saying. If a boy** who’s not even on this continent can be more straightforward with me than a boy living in the same city as me who I see a few times a week, that should tell you something. [**This boy is not a boy really, he’s a man, and maybe that’s the difference.] If you’re ego isn’t big enough to take a hit, tread lightly. Rejection builds character, right? Because yes, I will call you out when I deem necessary, especially if your head is a little swelled and I feel you need a reality check. And yes I’ll tell you if I like you or not to your face.  I might flirt and be mysterious and not give you straight answers all the time, but in the end you’ll get the cold hard truth, or the warm and fuzzy truth. I realize that boldness isn’t for everyone, and if you’re not into it, it’s not my problem and I take zero offense.  We can be friends, really. OR you can grow some cajones and take it like a man. And hey, if you wanted to be straightforward, honest, and up-front with me right from the start, you might even score. My number that is. Because I’m still not a skank, even if you are Mr. Bold and Beautiful.

PS: It’s my last weekend in the ex-capital of the Confederacy, let’s see what kind of trouble we can dig up…full reports next week. Happy hunting, boys and girls!

Breaking News!

I’m pregnant! Ha! JUST KIDDING. Seriously, that would be breaking and terrible news, but seriously I’m not pregnant. The real breaking news is that I’m moving to Raleigh! Yes, ladies and gentleman, this Richmond-loving gal is taking her sassy and professional pants and relocating to another of this nation’s great state capitals. My place of gainful employment has decided that I am also eligible for an outstanding raise to 6 figures! Just kidding again! Sadly no raise, but bonus! I’m moving out of my parents’ home finally! I do love me some Momma Sassy and Poppa Pants; [+1 for using a semicolon in a blog] however, it is a well known fact that humans are the only race that allow their young to return to the nest. Ever. And so I am now happy to vacate that stereotype.  However I will say a big ole thank you to my parental units for allowing me to live there sans rent payment, sans grocery purchasing, sans utility bills payment, and sans…I just like using the word sans. Makes me feel smart. But hey, thanks Ma and Daddy! Miss Sassy Pants loves you and wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for your…well, you. High five to you both.

SO now that I found out officially, I’ve been searching for the perfect place to call my new temporary home.  My assignment is only for 6 months, so Richmond won’t get to miss me too much before I’m back.  And let me share something about this apartment search: it is ridiculous. There are about 9 billion colleges in the Research Triangle or whatever it’s called – Raleigh, Durham, and Chapel Hill. And let’s throw in Cary and Wake as well. They should call it the Research Pentagon. Whatever. Many colleges means that it is difficult to find an apartment that is not chock full of college students.  Yes I know I just graduated, but I do not have the same sleeping habits as I used to! I need to be in tip-top shape every day so people don’t think I’m a crazy party animal who comes to work hungover every day and has nutso red streaks in my hair. As we already discussed, this is not professional. And even if I am not really hungover, if I do not get sleep I will look hungover which is basically just as bad. Also I don’t like the smell of beer and puke anymore, and would prefer not to trip over beer cans and bongs on my way out the door in the mornings, as I did in my previous life as a college gal.

N. E. Ways. So it’s a challenge. I find myself stepping outside the box in a major way, by searching up craigslist (I mean!) for a roommate. Yes I responded to a couple ads, yes I heard back from one or two, and yes I will be meeting them this weekend. Get hyped. I’m a little nervous about this prospect, given that random roommates are a toss-up. I got so lucky freshman year (love to the original roomz, you rocked/rock my world), and then had a little hiccup and then got lucky again and then I had friends. Which some would say is also luck.  But whatever. It’ll be an adventure, less expensive, and maybe I’ll even make new friends.  Novel idea, eh? Anywho, I’ll report back after my epic journey to le triangle this weekend…hopefully I will have something signed by then. This would definitely give me some serious peace of mind!

Positivie notes: Get excited to discover and explore the Rals (new name for Raleigh, just came up with it, love) with me! I can’t wait to find my new favorite shoe store (window shopping and dreaming only – I’m on a serious budget!), manicure place (again, dreams), Panera location (for once a month splurges, sad), night-time hot-spot (again, special occasions, happy hours, $1 PBR only), and gym site (discounted by my employer because I’m “remote”…muahaha).  I am most nervous about the gym, as there are numerous locations nearby from which I must choose! What if I pick the one full of old skeezy dads?! Sorry, that was offensive. Not all dads are skeezy, but you know, lots of old men are creepy and I don’t want to be with a bunch of boomers or middle-aged dudes and cougars with their kids in the massive day-care. Let me tell you about the kids center in my current gym: empty. That’s the way I like and prefer it. Also it’s embarrassing when the cougar next to me in pilates is more flexible than I. Not that I’ve ever experienced that, just saying. Plus, bad/mediocre scenery = less motivation to workout. Obvs. Digression again!

Bottom line: get excited, I’m taking you all with me in my blessed little heart! Until next time, keep the sass on high.