I've been nagged...

Okay, two people in the last two days have told me, in not-so-subtle terms, that I need to post on here. So, let see, what's been happening since my last post, which was before Halloween (so maybe I am a little overdue)...

Well, Halloween itself was great. My roommate and former co-worker (from two different jobs) Tasha and I, along with one of our other former co-workers, Shavonne, headed to South Carolina for yet another co-worker's annual Halloween bash. It was so great to see everyone again, and my slutty Snow White costume seemed to go over pretty well (I was affectionately dubbed "Sno Ho"). Yeah, I know, I should have posted pics way back when. But they're up on Webshots, so check 'em out.

November was also great. I spent the second week of November in Charleston, which, for anyone who's never been, is just a fantastic city. I was there for training for work, so I didn't get to do a lot of site seeing because it was dark by the time I got out of class. Luckily, I've been before and have seen most of the tourist attractions, so I could just enjoy hanging out downtown at night. We did go on a ghost walk one night, which I hadn't done before, and really enjoyed. The next night, we ate at an allegedly haunted restaurant from the tour, Poogan's Porch. We didn't see any ghosts, but the food was fantastic.

I took my camera with me, but since I was with a group of people most of the time and it was dark, I couldn't get many good shots, because I couldn't really stop and take the time to use the tripod. I have posted a few that I took on the ghost tour and one night when we went down to the Battery. But just being down there and walking around that beautiful city at night has made me decide that I really need to get back into the photography thing again. And I really, really want to take another trip down there, by myself or maybe with just one other person, for about a week and just take a ton of photos.

Of course, after I got back from Charleston, it wasn't long before it was Thanksgiving. I decided not to make the drive home this year, mainly because my car now has 170K+ miles on it, so I thought I'd save the wear and tear of a trip through the mountains of West Virginia to my hometown in Pennsylvania, and just wait until Christmas to go home. I did cook a turkey and all the trimmings, though, and had a few friends over. A couple people ended up not being able to make it at the last minute, so we had A LOT of food.

And then came December, which of course is always hectic. I had most of my shopping done by the first week of December, but I just got my Christmas cards mailed out yesterday. Now I am down to one gift left to buy, which makes me really happy. I used to run around at the last minute, desperate to find stuff, but I am much better now at getting it taken care of early. Which I love, because it means I get to stay out of the stores during the peak shopping season, except for groceries.

Oh, and I almost forgot the job update. As I mentioned in one of my last, oh-so-long-ago posts, I made the decision to go back to the museum, this time working for the Foundation's development department. I went back the second week of October, right after Thomas, and I have to admit, I hadn't been 100 percent certain about my decision. It didn't take long to realize that it was the right decision. It didn't hurt that George Clooney made an unexpected visit my first day back (yes, he's as good-looking in person), but it's much more than that.

Like any workplace, the museum will always have its own unique frustrations and politics, but I just feel like I've come back home. And I'm really enjoying the many different aspects of my job, and getting to learn a lot of new things. I have a lot of exciting ideas that I can't wait to try, but to an extent I am still getting my feet wet and learning the ropes. It was really nice already having a background there and knowing the basics, but there's been a lot to learn with the database program I have to use (which was what the Charleston training was on). But while it's been a challenge, it's also been exciting as I realize a lot of different strategies and tactics we can implement with the program we use.

Okay, this may well be the longest post I've ever written, so I'm going to wind this up. In the future, I promise to be more dutiful in my blog posting obligations...mainly because this thing took way too damn long to write!

Halloween, here I come!

I have a great Halloween costume! Two weeks before Halloween! This is a record for me--I'm horrible at figuring out what to be for Halloween, so it's always the last minute before I figure out something, and then it's never anything I like. But this year I have a costume--and it's hot! Go me!

Can't you just stay in one place?

No, apparently, I can't.

I'm changing jobs. Again. Sort of. I'm actually going back to an old job. Sort of.

Now that I've confused you, here's the story. I left the museum in January to take a job with a marketing company in Huntersville, a decision spurred primarily by the jaw-dropping hike in gas prices after Hurricane Katrina, combined with a 100-mile roundtrip commute and low state salaries. I've enjoyed my new job, and love my co-workers. For the most part it's interesting, often challenging, and I've learned a lot of new things.

It is not exactly what I would call fulfilling. I don't really go home at night and think that I'm doing something important. After three years of high stress, low pay and even less appreciation at a newspaper job that was supposed to be fulfilling (and in many ways was, but was just as often frustrating), followed by a year and half at a job that was fulfilling but didn't pay enough to make ends meet, I was honestly okay with a job that was just a job and nothing else. Not a mission, not a statement, just something that provided enough money to pay the bills and have a little left over.

But... a new opportunity presented itself last week. An opportunity to go back to the museum, but not as a state employee, and making equivalent to what I make now. In short--a job that pays the bills, is fulfilling, and is not abnormally stressful. The job is actually a bit different from what I was doing there before, but has some similar facets to it, and is one I believe I will enjoy. So after getting a lot of advice from some wise friends, I've decided to return.

And hopefully I'll stay in one place for a little longer this time. :)

Smells like...

...football!!!

The NFL season kickoff was Thursday, and lucky me, it was the Steelers and Miami. Of course, everyone was skeptical about whether my boys could win with backup QB Charlie Batch, but they pulled it out. As far as I'm concerned, I hope the "experts" are skeptical all season long--it seems the more we have to prove, the better we do.

I always forget how much I love football season until it comes back around, and then it's like having a favorite food you haven't had in a long time, and you remember how good it tastes. I think Tasha is a little freaked out about my enthusiasm for the game, but hopefully she'll come to terms. And she just got a new car, so if I scare her too much, I'm sure she'll just head out to do a little shopping. :)

Now... let's play, baby!

Sitting here with a big grin

Today was a good day. I'm going to have to vague here, but let's just say that karma might be slow sometimes, but it will take care of things eventually.

And totally unrelated, can I say how excited I am that football season is here again? It's only the preseason, and I'm already a nervous wreck. I think Tasha was a little taken aback last weekend watching me watch the game. And I thought I was relatively low key. Of course, she's never witnessed Steelers Misty before. Go Black and Gold!

He's a leaner

That's how I often describe Alex to those who have just met him. Usually I say this because my dog, who was just introduced to the person I'm speaking to moments ago, is sitting at their feet, leaning against their legs, looking up with the sad, sweet eyes that say, "Love me. Pet me. Love me." Yeah, he's kind of an attention whore.

I also have been known to describe him as a sniffer, a gooser, a kisser and a farter (lemme just say, you don't want to be around him when he's in "farter" mode). So that got me thinking... if people I know were to boil me down so simply, to some kind of "verb-er," what would I be? Any thoughts?

I'll start the list--procrastinator. That would explain why I still haven't written the New York post I promised. Don't worry, I'll get to it--someday.

Hello, my name is...

...Misty, and I'm a blog slacker.

The first step is admiting you have a problem, right? Tasha kindly pointed out a few minutes ago that I have not posted on here since before I went to New York. I neglected to point out how how long it had been since she has posted on either of the two blogs she participates in. Of course, it has been equally long since I have posted on either of the two other blogs I have (maybe I have too many blogs?).

So anyway, I promise to post about New York either tonight when I get home from picking my puppy up at the vet (depending on the time), or tomorrow night. Right now I am hard at work. Sort of.

Sidenote for my fellow American Idol fans--Chris Daughtry is in Charlotte tonight for the American Idol tour. It's enough to get a girl all hot and bothered.

Holy Cannoli

I had a rough, rough day today. And I can't even begin to describe it on here. Sigh. The upside is, I think it will take a lot more to absolutely mortify me now.

"I promise not to piss on you..."

Funny things I've seen recently:

• After-concert potty break. It's hilarious the lengths drunk people will go to when they have to pee. Take, for example, the woman who squatted between two parked cars with her drunk friends holding up towels on either side of her after Kelly Clarkson.
• Woman chasing shopping cart. That is until she realized she wasn't going to catch it before it hit a car on the other side of the parking--then she took off running in the other direction, hopped in her car and left. Guess she didn't anyone to realize it was her cart that did the damage...
• "White Chicks." Watched this movie, which I thought might be kind of dumb, with friends this weekend. Turned out to be hilarious. And I have a new catch phrase. No, wait--hold my poodle!

22 hours and counting...

...till Kelly! Ok, I know it is sad and pathetic that I am this excited about seeing Kelly Clarkson. But give me a break, I haven't been to a concert in who knows how long. And Kelly is actually really talented, unlike a lot of other girl pop singers. So, in honor of celebrating the 4th by crooning with Kelly, I proudly present:

Reasons Why I Love Kelly Clarkson

1. She has hips and doesn't look she would break in a strong wind.
2. She made hazel eyes cool. I have hazel eyes. But I've never liked that word, hazel. It always kind of sounded like an ugly color to me. So I would never call my eyes hazel--I'd say they were brownish green, or greenish brown, or anything but hazel. Now, they're just hazel.
3. She's one of few that I think truly fits the much-abused term "fierce."
4. She smiles a lot, and it's not fake.
5. She would make a great new love interest for Nick Lachey, who needs someone with some substance.
6. She has a song where she literally screams at a cheating beau "shut your mouth!"
7. She's fun--have you seen the "Walk Away" video?
8. She's got pipes, so she sings most of songs loudly enough that I can sing along badly and not be heard.

Oops

I didn't go to the church I was thinking about trying Sunday. I accidentally took my dog's Benadryl Saturday night (long story) and overslept. Maybe I can talk Tasha into going with me next week.

The Absence of Noise

I finally got the overly loud, constantly running fan on my laptop fixed this week. It's been that way for awhile, but I keep putting off contacting Dell, because I assumed I'd have to send it back and be without my computer for awhile, and I really need it for freelance work. But I had reached a point where it was completely driving me crazy, and where I might be able to get by without the comp for a bit.

I was pleasantly surprised though...I used Dell's online support to report the problem, and was told that a technician would contact me in 1-2 business days to schedule a maintenance call. That's right, they came to me. So two days later, the Dell guy came out, and my computer is now blissfully silent. It's taken some getting used to though. I didn't quite know what to do for a few days, when I would boot up my computer and not be greeted with an annoying hum. It almost seemed like something was wrong, I had become so used to it. I told a friend, it was like going home for spring break from college and trying to sleep at night without the sound of the freight train that ran by my dorm going by every 30 minutes.

In other news, I think I might go to church tomorrow. Okay, you can close your mouths now. Yes, the heathen might go to church. But this is nothing like the narrow-minded church I grew up in. It's a Unitarian Universalist church. They don't adhere to a specific doctrine, and don't believe there is only one particular means of having access to God. One of my old editors once asked me if I'd ever been to one, and said I might find it interesting. Basically, from what I gather, it's more a forum for personal growth and the betterment of society than it is a "religion."

I've actually thought about going to a service for a long time. Part of me held back, because I thought, what's the point of a church service if you don't adhere to a particular doctrine? But the more I think about it, the more I realize there is a benefit in belonging to a church that I have been missing--the gathering together of a group of people to say, "We want to be good people. We want to be the kind of people who help those in need and defend the weak."

I've even thought about trying to find some kind of liberal Christian church for that reason, but I know that I would feel uncomfortable and hypocritical, because no matter how liberal the church, it would still preach a doctrine that I don't completely believe. The more I mull the idea of going to a Unitarian church, though, the more intriqued I am. In many ways, I believe those who attend there are more likely to be altruistic than those you'd find at traditional churches. Ultimately, most of the world's religions are motivated by a fear of punishment (hell), a promise of reward (heaven), or a combination of the two. The Unitarian church requires no belief in either, so its members are there simply looking a greater purpose--something I'm looking for as well.

I can't have kids...

...Because my dog alone is more than I can handle. Not that he's too much work--actually, he's relatively easy. He's exceptionally well-behaved, particularly since he's just a year old. I don't worry about him chewing anything, except the occassional nibble on my blankets, he never has "accidents," and though he's still a little excitable when he meets new people, he listens well and calms down pretty quickly. So all I really have to do is give him food and water, take him for walks, a bath now and then, and lots of affection.

It's the emotional toll. About two weeks ago, he started developing a rash on his belly and under his arms. He had a similar one about the same time last year, when he was still a pup, that went away on its own. I already know he has allergies, because I have to give him Benadryl from time to time for these huge eye "boogies" gets. (See, I'm being just like a parent--talking freely about gross stuff as if it isn't gross because it has to do with my baby's well-being). Anyway, I naturally attributed the rash to allergies and started giving him Benadryl. That seemed to be helping, but then this weekend he was playing in a little wooded area with some high grass, and by Sunday evening, he was broken out horribly all over his neck and chin--it even started bleeding.

So Monday I called the vet first thing, hoping to get an appointment that evening after work. Of course they didn't have any evening appointments open until Thursday. I fret all day Monday, knowing my baby is itchy and miserable. It finally occurs to me that I can probably drop him off in the morning and pick him up after work. I call, and yes, I can. That relieves me somewhat.

Still, I spent a good chunk of time yesterday when I was supposed to be working looking up stuff about doggie allergies instead. I got advice ranging from changing his pet food to giving him honey to finding a holistic vet (I didn't know there was such a thing).

This morning I dropped him off, leaving him for only the second time in his life with strangers--the first time was when he got fixed, so I'm pretty sure I'm still not forgiven for that. The girl went to take him to the back, and I quickly turned to leave, fighting the urge to speak to him in my "puppy" voice (it's basically the equivalent of the "goo-goo, ga-ga" baby voice), because I know that will make him anxious. He had been happily sniffing the vet tech (in his mind, his new friend), but as soon as he saw me leaving, he started trotting after me--because I'm mommy, so of course he's supposed to go where I go. I turned back, gave him a quick goodbye and told him he was going to stay there so they could make him better. I guess he believed me, because he then followed his new friend to the back.

I worried about him all day, even though I already knew what was wrong and, thanks to my online research, the basic course of treatment. But I worry because I know he's always going to have problems with this, because I know he's in a strange place with strange people and because he was getting poked and prodded without me there to reassure him. I know, I'm pathetic.

Now he is home and happily chasing his tail. Barely phased by the bath he just had (the vet gave me medicated shampoo and said to use it twice a week, and Alex desperately hates baths--he stands there quietly, but looks at me with big, sad brown eyes as if he really believes the sole purpose of a bath is to test his love for me).

So my logical side tells me that I'm being an overprotective, overattached mother. But my logical side has to keep arguing with my emotional side. Truth is, I love that dog to death. I love the way he acts like a clown, with that big happy smile, I love the way he looks at me with so much pure trust, then slowly sticks his nose out toward and gives me a kiss. I even love the way he's scared of the littlest things, despite the fact that he's so big and strong. If I get this attached to a dog, why in the world would I be crazy enough to have kids?

I Heart Jon Stewart

Stewart in '08.

I honestly believe that America would be hard-pressed to find a better man for president than Jon Stewart. With Anderson Cooper as his VP, of course.

I have been an ardent fan of Jon Stewart and The Daily Show for several years now, and my respect for him as an exceptionally intelligent, compassionate and moral man who uses his sense of humor to make the points that the mainstream media is afraid to make grows nearly every time I watch him.

But today, I think I was even more impressed with him than I've ever been, as I watched a DVRed episode from June 6, when he passionately and convincingly argued against a ban on gay marriage with an obviously stumbling and overwhelmed Bill Bennett.

Check it out yourself. I hope Jon Stewart was the captain of his high school debate team.

City Lights

Thursday my boss called me into her office and asked if I would like to go along with the sales staff for this huge trade show in NYC. Hell yeah!

I'm not in sales, I'm a writer, so it's not normally the kind of thing I'd go along for, this is a reward for the work I've done since starting there in January.

I've been to New York once, for a weekend. It was in '98, my sophomore year of college--a trip I took with an honors fine arts class. I hadn't been that excited about the trip beforehand. I didn't know many people in the class that well, and at this point in my life I hadn't really been to many "big cities," growing up in the small town of Grove City, Pennsylvania--aka, Bubble City. I was also only beginning to escape the coccoon of painful shyness that I hid in during high school, so the prospect of going to New York City was a bit intimidating to say the least.

I was definitely surprised. I immediately fell in love with the city. It was so big and vast--here you could do anything, be anyone, meet any kind of person. With so many people, it kind of erased the need to be self-conscious. Walking along the busy streets there, who was going to notice if I were having a bad hair day? Or if I needed to lose five pounds? There was freedom for me in that anonymity.

Even more than that, I loved the allure of seeing, experiencing, hearing new things. But all of it had to be packed into three short days. Luckily, we got a lot in--the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Modern Art, St. Patrick's Cathedral, the Empire State Building, Times Square, an off-Broadway show and Radio City Music Hall.

Ever since that trip, I've always wanted to go back, but have yet to make it. That desire only grew after Sept. 11. I need to go to Ground Zero. Everybody does. I didn't know anybody personally affected by the tragedy, but I believe, as an American citizen, I need to stand there and remember and mourn.

Not just for those who were lost that day, but for the family and friends they left behind; for a nation that has lost its innocence; for a nation that responded in the best possible way immediately after a tragedy; for a nation that has now lost its focus and not learned the lesson of that day; and for the soldiers who have fought and are still fighting an unjustified war in the name of revenge.

In just a little more than a month, I will be back in the Big Apple, a far different person than I was the first time I was there, in likely a far different city. Since then I have been to London, traveled most of the Southeast, was even fortunate enough to make it to Mardi Gras before Katrina hit. I've struck out on my own, had some huge career moments, fallen in love, fallen out of love, had my heart broken, made friendships and lost friendships. I am fortunate, blessed and very aware of it.

Anybody who knew me before I left Pennsylvania and still knows me now can tell you that I bear little resemblance to the quiet, insecure girl who left that little town almost 10 years ago. I still see remnants of that girl from time to time, but it's very seldom. In fact, when the topic of what you were like in high school comes up and I mention how extremely shy I was--most people who know me now find it hard to believe.

That self-transformation began about the same time as my first trip to New York, I can't wait to find out how I will see the city now, through new eyes.

How can there be so many...

...styles of tweezers? And nail clippers, cuticle trimmers and eyelash curlers? I needed a pair of tweezers, so I stopped in the health and beauty section while I was at WalMart tonight. And as I stared at the glimmering assortment of metalic grooming tools available to me, I was in awe--there must have been at least 20 different tweezer choices, ranging from 88 cents to almost $14. Yes--$14 for tweezers. If I pay $14 for tweezers, they better be automatic--you know I could just sit there while the tweezers float magically around, tweezing my brows. And they better be painless.

How could we as a society possibly need that many kinds of tweezers? I think it definitely illustrates that our current value system may be a little warped.

For the record, I bought the 88 cent pair.

Swing, batter, batter, swing!

Just thought I'd share this photo I got this past weekend at my friend Dixie's wedding. She was, ironically, marrying my cousin Kevin. They had a pinata for the kids at the reception--this picture is of her little sister and flower girl Rachel swinging with all her might.

Despite getting the barage of "so are you dating anyone?" questions, it was a very nice wedding and pretty good weekend in general. The wedding ended up being like a family and class reunion (Dixie and I went to high school together) at the same time, and I stopped on the way back south to see a good friend from college. This weekend I'll actually be sticking closer to home, but Tasha and I have plans for some quality time at the pool--and we're going strawberry pickin'!

Owww...

I wish someone had warned me that after you hit 20, your body starts falling apart. I always thought you didn't hit that point until at least 50.

I sprained my ankle last week. I have no idea how. I don't remember stepping on it wrong or anything. It just started hurting Thursday night, and kept getting progressively worse over the weekend. Went to the doc today, and got a brace that basically immobilizes my whole lower leg. I'd take a picture and put it up here to elicit sympathy, but that would require walking to my room to get the camera. :)

Anyway, for now poor Tasha is stuck helping the cripple. She's even taking Alex out for me. And she keeps yelling at me for walking around when I don't need to be. (Don't tell her I went to the kitchen for a snack while she wasn't looking!)

But on to happier things--Tasha and I went to a town in South Carolina that will remain nameless (suffice it to say it is the locale of the Evil Newspaper From Hell and the Good Ole Boy Editors From Hell) to see some of our old co-workers--not the Editors From Hell, but our poor fellow peons. Tasha hadn't been there in a year, and I hadn't been down for about a year and a half or more, so it was really nice to see everyone and catch up.

As bad as all of our collective experiences there were/still are, I believe everything happens for a reason. About a week after I accepted the position at said Evil Newspaper From Hell, I got a phone call from a pretty good-sized daily paper in Virginia, wanting to interview me. Having already accepted the position, I turned down the interview--without even getting the details of the position. I have often looked back at that decision and wondered how my life and career might have turned out differently had I done the interview.

But I'm glad I chose the road I did. The first two years at the paper were primarily good, and I learned a lot--about myself, about the world, and about making it in the working world. More importantly, though, I met some people who I hope will be a part of my life for a long, long time, and who I know I will never forget. The common bond we had was the bad situation we were all in. But out of that bond came a lot of good--memories that make me smile, and friends I know I can always lean on.

I don't believe in regret--as I said, I believe everything happens for a reason. I've always felt this way, but being able to look back at that experience and to see clearly, concretely how something that was so negative affected me in such a positive way reinforces that belief, and makes it easier for me to see the light in the distance whenever I am in a rough spot--to live in the moment, without hesitation.

If you need someone to hold you...

Chris Daughtry got kicked off of American Idol tonight. A crime against America. Particularly since he went home before Katherine-what's-her-name, who FORGOT HER LYRICS last night. Anyway, it's okay for him, because he'll get a recording contract and make tons of money. Sadly for me, I won't be able to fantasize about him while I watch him perform on Idol the next two weeks. But no longer will I have divided loyalties--it's Taylor all the way!
But just wanted to put this out there for Chris--if you're broken-hearted and need some consolation, I'm here for ya baby. And thanks for letting us know about the boxer briefs. It helps with the fantasies. God, I love boxer briefs...

I want to be that microphone stand

Yeah, I am in love with Chris Daughtry. So what if he's already married, has kids and doesn't know who I am?
For those of you who don't follow American Idol religiously, he's going to be the next winner. And I love him. Oh yeah, I mentioned that already. Anyway, he's definitely hot, though not the hottest guy I've ever seen. But there's something about watching him perform that's just... well, unbelievably sexy. Tonight he sang "When a Man Loves a Woman." At one point, he sort of gently ran his hand down the microphone stand--I want to be that microphone stand.

Crushing

So why did no one warn me when I was in junior high that "crushes" don't go away after puberty? I mean, you would think it would be like acne--once you hit a certain age, you just don't have to worry about it anymore.

No, I could not be so lucky. 'Course, my crushes get further complicated by the fact that, for some reason over the past few years, I've decided (not really decided, more circumstantial) to have crushes on guys that I work with. That's especially bad when you work for a small company, because everybody wants to get involved and play matchmaker.

So far, it doesn't seem like anyone's stuck their nose in too far. Well, I'm not completely sure if anybody's picked up on it. And maybe there's nothing to pick up on. I mean, I've let myself develop a pretty good-sized crush on this guy, despite the fact that he's a Republican (and that's a big obstacle for me to overcome!), and I really don't know if the attraction is mutual. I think it might be, but then I wonder if I'm just seeing what I want to see. It'd be nice to just know--because if I knew he wasn't interested, I could nip it in the bud. But there's not an easy way to find out without having to deal that whole "possibility of rejection" thing. Now, I don't have a big ego--I could handle being rejected. BUT when you work together--well, then it would just end up being awkward.

I'm beginning to understand the appeal of arranged marriages...

Hug a police officer

If I step outside right now, I'll hear the sound of a helicopter overhead. The main road right outside our apartment complex is completely shut down, because this morning, about half a mile from where we live, a man wanted for rape charges shot a Charlotte police officer in the head while he and several other officers were attempting to arrest him. Fortunately, it appears that the officer, Kayvan Hazrati, who is supposed to be getting married in two weeks, will survive. Doctors don't know, though, how much long-term damage he'll suffer.

We, as a society, are not very nice to police officers. We don't like them because they write us traffic tickets, because they make us follow the rules. We call them names, based solely on their profession, despite the fact that it is their job to keep us safe. When I was a reporter in South Carolina, we had a similar situation in our coverage area. A deputy went to a house to talk to the owners in an attempt to help mediate a dispute between the family and the Department of Transportation over a road-widening project the owners felt was encroaching on their property (the state had actually purchased the property needed for widening before the current owner even purchased their property). The deputy was shot through the closed front door with a high-powered rifle. The owner and his adult son then pulled the deputy's body inside house. Another officer who arrived shortly after to check on the deputy was shot in the yard before even reaching the house, sparking a 14-hour standoff between the father, son and half of the state's law enforcement officers.

At the paper, we had a specific officer with the Highway Patrol who was our designated media contact. I cannot think of a nicer, better man, and every time I talked to him, he always made me smile. He was one of the first officers to arrive on the scene after the second officer was shot. With just one other officer providing cover fire, he pulled the second officer's body from the yard. All of this happened on a day that I was off work. The next day, after using officers used robotic assistance late the night before to end the standoff, I was responsible for covering the arraignment of the son and his mother (who staged a mini-standoff at the son's apartment). During the arraignment, the son launched into a prolonged anti-government tyrade (to read the article, click here) and had no apparent remorse for the two lives they had taken. It made me queasy to hear him, and I didn't know at the time of my friend at the Highway Patrol's involvement--if I did, I don't know how I would have handled it.

Every day there are officers just like my friend who put their lives on the line, and rarely do we say thank you. Usually it's quite the opposite. Charlotte's Mayor, Pat McCroy, encouraged Charlotte residents to hug a police officer today. If you're not the hugging type, this is what I would suggest--the next time you stop an officer to ask for directions somewhere, let him (or her) know you appreciate what he does. The next time an officer pulls you over for driving too fast, thank him for the job he does--even if you get a ticket. Pretty much, any time you have contact with law enforcement officers, thank them--they deserve it.

My puppy smiles!

All the time! But you would think he's a poor, neglected, abused pooch by the pictures I have of him, because everytime someone pulls out a camera, he puts on his sad, serious puppy expression. But I FINALLY got a picture of him smiling the other day... ain't he pretty? :)

Look Ma, No Wires!

After a week at the new place, I finally got the wireless internet access thing figured out, so I can sit anywhere in the apartment and be online. Apparently the router I got originally just didn't want to work with my laptop. However, now I can't get the desktop, which Tasha has now, to "talk to" the new router, I think maybe because it's a different brand than the wireless card... the first router I had worked with the desktop but not the laptop. Any computer geniuses out there who care to help out?

Lovin' It!

Been kind of crazy the past couple weeks with the move and all, but yes, I did get moved! Fun stuff... read the Writers Bloc blog for a good story. Anyway, really, really love the new apartment, especially my bathroom. My friends are going to get tired of hearing about how much I love my new bathroom... it's HUGE! Still have a lot of unpacking to do, though, which I'm working around work, shopping for stuff we need for the new place, and my part-time work for the museum. Tash and I will eventually have a photojournal of the moving in process, once we get somewhat settled and decorated, so keep your eyes out.

She's Here

Tasha, as she was sitting on the couch in our house earlier tonight checking this blog, just reminded me that, since she's been here since last Wednesday, I should probably update this and say that she's here. So anyway, she's here.

Happy Tasha? :)

Just kidding--I am very excited that she's here, and excited to be moving into a great apartment only 20 minutes from my job at the end of this week... even though I detest the actual moving process.

Getting excited

Tasha's going to be here in one hour! Now I just need to finish packing...ugh.

Something to Say

After just writing a post about having nothing to talk about, I now have lots to talk about. My very good friend Tasha, who's now living in California, and who most of you who read this blog know, will be moving back to the East Cost in a week, and will soon becoming my next roommate. I am so unbelievably excited to have her back, not just in my neck of the woods, but just across the hall, although I know there's a lot about California she will miss as well.

I have to say, though, I'm not sure Tasha will be able to entertain me quite as much as Randi's antics, so she's going to have some big shoes to fill. Tasha will be crashing with Randi and I for a short period while we get a new apartment, so maybe Randi can give her a tutorial on how to make my life totally unpredictable and never boring. I think Tasha may be a little handier than Randi, so that will definitely cut down on the entertainment factor, but I may not be assembling as many treadmills/futons/tv stands now. And since these little projects usually involve Misty messing up some small detail that doubles the assembly time and quite a bit of cursing, that might be a good thing.

Anyway, the next couple of weeks are going to be very hectic, finding a new place, packing, get utilities set up, addresses changed, moving truck reserved, etc., all while working about 50 hours a week, so you may not hear much from me for awhile again. It's like I said--when I do have something to write about, whatever is usually keeps me so busy I don't have time to write about it.

Nothing to Say

Yeah, I know, I know--I started this blog because I wasn't writing as much for work since I did a career switch, and I needed a creative outlet. Now half the time I barely write in it. But, honestly, sometimes I just don't have anything to talk about.

I mean, the Super Bowl got me all hyped up for a bit, but after that, then what? Let's see...Alex is as adorable as always. I like my new job--people are fun and easy to get along with, and I don't have to take out a loan to fill my tank or buy groceries anymore. Yes, for all my relatives who think I'm going to be an old maid, I am still single. There's just not much going on.

And that sounds really sad, like my life is boring. But the truth is, my life is good. Right now, it's pretty simple, but sometimes you need simple. Since I'm not constantly obsessing about finances now, I can take time to savor the little things--the way my dog looks at me like I'm the best person he knows, how good it feels to ride with the windows down and the music up on those blissfully spring-like days you sometimes get during February in the Carolinas.

For a long time, pretty much from the time I started college until fairly recently, I've felt like my life was constantly "amped up." There was always some kind of drama--at work, with friends, in relationships, whatever. Right now, even though there are still some significant changes going on (like the new job and getting ready to move), I feel comfortable. Like I'm drifting slowly with the current--not sure of my exact course, but knowing that I'm headed in the right direction.

Can't Beat the Black and Gold!

'Nuff said.

Are you ready for some football???

Here We Go!

Last year, when the Steelers finished the regular season 15-1, I thought our year had finally come. Every time a conversation turned to football, I talked trash--and then, after losing miserably in the playoffs to, of course, New England, I ate a lot of crow.

This year, we weren't quite as strong in the regular season, and barely made the playoffs--as the No. 6 seed. A No. 6 seed has never made it to the Super Bowl, so all the commentators had written us before the playoffs even started. But something was different this year--we had a rocky mid-season, but we looked strong at the end of the season. And somehow, you could tell, there was a hunger there. From the beginning of the playoffs I've had a good feeling that we were going to the Big One. But this year, I kept my mouth shut--I made no bold predictions, just said before each new game that I was hopeful but also nervous.

Today, my boys did it--they defeated the Denver Broncos and are on their way to Detroit for the Super Bowl. I am ecstatic--though during the game I was so nervous I thought I might get physically sick. I am ecstatic because I think that Steelers are a good team, and a team with character. While sports reporters write stories about "star" athletes who make more trouble off the field than plays on the field, the stories about Pittsburgh in the coming weeks will surely center around one of the most gregarious, vibrant, and well-deserving athletes playing the game today--Jerome Bettis.

Because bigger than the story of his almost 14,000 career rushing yards, bigger than his returning to his hometown of Detroit for a game that will probably be the biggest--and last--game of his career, is the story of a man who has always played the game he loved with more heart than anyone, but always knowing that it was just a game. You can be sure if you're watching a Steelers game, you're going to see a lot of shots of a big man with quick feet, a propensity to dance in the endzone, and a grin that can't be contained.

To me, Bettis' unbridled enthusiasm for the game is what Steelers football is all about--because it mirrors the same enthusiasm I've experienced my whole life following this team. Some of my favorite Sunday afternoons growing up were spent watching Steelers games with my dad--my dad, a quiet-mannered guy with coke bottle glasses, who turned into a raving maniac when the boys in black and gold were on. One minute he would be sitting nervously, cynically predicting that we were sure to give this one away (the more he predicted we would lose, the better our odds of winning), then a moment later, after we'd make some big play, he'd be leaping off the couch, doing a crazy little dance I can't even begin to describe, and whooping and hollering so loudly he probably woke the neighbors.

It was those Sundays with my dad that are the reason I love the game of football--and the Steelers--so much. During the next two weeks, I will again be making no predictions--I'm hopeful but also nervous. The only prediction I will make is that on game day, I'm going to wish I were sitting on the couch next to my dad, watch the boys.

My New Year's Resolutions

Normally, I would list here the typical--get in better shape, improve my financial situation, etc. This year, I just can't do that. While I do plan to do both of those (and am actually already taking steps in those directions), I just feel like this year I need to have more meaningful resolutions.
There has been so much about the past year that has deeply affected me that I'm not even sure where to start. So much has both shaken and reaffirmed my faith in the humanity of Americans, of the global community. The suffering the world witnessed as a result of Hurricane Katrina brought to the surface many disturbing questions. How is it that our nation's most vulnerable citizens have become, as CNN's Anderson Cooper so hauntingly put it, "a population of invisible people"? When did it become so easy not to see those that need our help?
At the same time as I decried the blinders that let this tragedy happen, the outpouring of help that came from private groups and individuals helped restore some of my faith in mankind. For a week straight a local radio talk show had me in tears every time I listened to them, as they led a collections effort that resulted in about a dozen tractor trailers full of food and supplies being delivered to the Gulf, along with almost half a million dollars in cash donations.
While we tried to recover from tragedy at home, Americans continue to grapple with increasingly complex global issues--namely, how do we protect ourselves from terrorism without ourselves becoming the terrorists? It is my personal opinion that we have not done that well, and that our nation is in serious need of strong leadership to take us back in a more moral direction that truly values human life. It's really not my intent here to wax political (at least not in this post), but to provide a backdrop for my resolutions for the coming year. So before I go off on a tangent, here they are:

• To be more grateful. Sometimes it's tough to balance my checkbook right before payday, but I have never once gone hungry, slept on the streets, buried someone taken away from me by tragedy or violence, never once been abused or neglected. I am beyond blessed.
• To do more good. I can criticize my government, I can criticize our lack of action and policies I don't agree with it. But when it comes down to it, most of what I do is lip service. What action have I personally taken to help the poor, to educate the illiterate, to right the wrong? In the past year, very little. I graduated college with plans for a career in journalism because I thought I could make a difference--give voice to the voiceless. After three years, I left the field because I felt I wasn't able to do that in the way that I wanted to, at least not in the current media environment. But in the year and a half since I made that decision, I haven't found another way to "change the world." So my resolution this year is to start finding my own way to make a difference, so that in my soul I know I've done my part.

That's it folks. Two resolutions. Seems like it should be easy--but I have no doubt these will be the most difficult resolutions I've ever made.