thoughts are king

Perhaps Britney Spears Said it Best

Recently, a co-worker who works in the HR department where I work shared with me some interesting information. He informed me that he had to run a report on all employees at the firm and of the 1,300 people working here, I'm the youngest by three years.

"That's cool," I said. He responded with, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

I thought that was an odd response.

I'm not ashamed of my age. In fact, at work I, I like my age. Everyone around me is older, which consequently makes me feel young. (I know, I know, 22 is young.)

As of late, I've been struggling with the idea of getting older. Hearing some guy in HR tell me I've got the rest of the firm beat when it comes to being the youngest — by a long shot — oddly comforts me.

Last week, I read Jess' post on "Umm ... Now What?," which more or less discussed her fear of growing up. Like many of the commenters, it really resonated with me. I too am about to turn 23 (in March) and have developed a bit of a complex about it. I like the idea of getting older — one day buying a home, getting married, having children — but at the same time it absolutely terrifies me. I tried to hold on to my college-life with a kung-fu-like grip, but eventually the inevitable happened: I graduated, attained a job and got drop-kicked into the "real world."

Sure, there are plenty of appealing things that go along with being in the "real world." For one thing, I finally have some money, which I can use to purchase some nice things. I also have carefree weekends, not bogged down with papers and studying.

But despite all the new purchases and all the extra time to relax, I can't help but look back on the innocent(ish) days of my youth. There's nothing like being a kid and having ziltch responsibility ... no worries of rent, deadlines, job security, the economy ... etc.

In some ways I feel very much like a grownup ... YET, in other ways I feel very much like a kid. For example:

• A hefty portion of my pay goes towards "big girl" expenses like student loans, a car payment, insurance, my 401K, etc ... YET, I'm some how still able to weasel my mom into paying my cellphone bill.
• I ask for "big girl" Christmas gifts like new pots and pans, a coffee maker, a panini grille, an automatic car starter, etc ... YET, I do so by preparing a detailed list, titled "Caity's Christmas Wish List," which I make six weeks prior to the big day, prepare copies of and pass out to my "lucky" loved-ones.
• Like tonight, I choose to be responsbible on a work night and stay in. I light some candles and enjoy a few a glass of "big girl" wine ... YET, I drink the classy wine out of a beer glass that reads, "Budweiser, The Great American Lager."

Sheesh.

I think maybe Brit really did say it best, "I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman."

______________________

*On a completely unrelated note, I updated my "About" page. Check it out, yo!

Is something in the water?

So, I was at the gym this evening with Ward and was forced to watch the new season of Real World (Brooklyn). Through the years my desire to watch the "reality show" has progressively dwindled. However, I have checked in from time to time to see what stereotypical characters MTV managed to cast. I can't say a season has come and gone without me, at the very least, watching/tolerating one episode. With this in mind, it was a complete shock to me that this season's cast of yahoos looked younger than ever.

My generation grew up with Real World. I recall the days of Puck sauntering around the San Fransisco house grotesquely picking his nose and then sticking his finger in the peanut butter jar. I was there when Real World went to Seattle, to Hawaii, to New Orleans, to New York (again) ... and even the more recent years when they went to Austin, Key West, Denver, Sydney. With each of these seasons, there was a consistency: "Each guy/gal appeared to be older than me, if not the same age as me." I remember growing up and thinking, "Maybe one day, I'll go on Real World." I, of course, would/could never do it, but I always thought, "Hey, you have plenty of time to decide whether you want to apply or not." But now, after having watched one episode of this season, it's confirmed, I'm too old! [I'm also probably too straight, too mentally sane and too much of a stable drinker to ever have a chance in being selected.]

Maybe it's just me, but it seems that with time, people appear to look younger than they used to. I remember looking through my dad's high school yearbook and thinking, "My god, these people look old. How can this person be 17, when they look 40."

As a sophomore in high school, I recall the senior guys and girls looking bigger/meaner/scarier/more intimidating. Then, suddenly I was a senior and I remember looking at my fellow classmates and thinking, "Why do we all look so puny."

I truly believe it has something to do with how the next generation is raised. Maybe it's the extra vaccinations that arise each year that stunt our growth? Maybe as food becomes more organic, it causes us to grow less facial hair? Or maybe there's just something in the water.

Whatever the cause is, I think it's pretty clear from the photos below that 20-somethings from nearly 20 years ago look a hell of a lot older than 20-somethings of today. [Not to mention, a hell of a lot better looking -- basing purely off these photos, of course:)]

Season 1 - New York (first time around):

Season 2 - Los Angeles:

Season 20 - Hollywood:

Season 21 - Brooklyn:

Is MTV casting younger characters than ever? Do people nowadays look younger than they used too?? OR, have I just aged significantly since Real World started and am having a hard time accepting it??? Hmmmm.....

Where's the love?

I fear I have fallen out of love.

I used to love the way the outside world looked in the months of January, February and March — homes dusted in white powder, trees outlined in icicles, rolling hills blanketed with white ... but now? ...  eh, not so much. The appreciation I had for the winter months has withered away to disdain and dare I say, hate.

I no longer look forward to waking up in the morning to run to the window and see what crazy things Old Man Winter has been up to all night. The days of turning on the television, tuning into the local news and eagerly awaiting the list of school closings/delays to work its way through the alphabet to the letter "S," are gone ... forever.

Why the sudden change of heart? Yeah, you guessed it, work.

Now that I'm what some may consider a legit-adult, my wintery mornings are spent begrudgingly hitting my snooze button 10 too many times until I'm forced to drag my butt outta bed. No matter where I wake each morning — be it Ward's house or my parent's house — I am greeted by subarctic temperatures. In the case of Ward's house, you can blame it on the 70-some-year-old Squirrel Hill house characterized by drafty windows, wall-to-wall hardwood floors and not-fully-functioning radiators. As for the cause of bone-chilling temperatures in my parents nearly-brand-new-home? The presence of a poltergeist perhaps? (I swear, every other room in the damn house stays at a cozy 70 degrees. Mine? I'm greeted by a gust of wind every time I enter my room. Huh?)

Since Christmas, I've been fortunate to enjoy the convenience and luxury of an automatic car starter (thanks to my considerate boyfriend). That certainly takes a little bit of pain out of my early morning trek to work. However, upon arriving at my parking garage in town each day, I'm forced to leave the comfort and warmth of my car to walk four painstaking-blocks to my building. Intensified wind propelling between skyscrapers and directly into your face really does the trick in waking ya up on an chilly January morning.

The hike to work really can be quite enjoyable at times — especially in fall, spring and summer. But forecasts like last Friday ...

 

... really make what can be a pleasant walk, utterly unbearable!

I suppose growing up means the days of your mom dressing you like Randy Parker before leaving the house are a thing of the past. You're no longer loaded into a preheated car and dropped off at the front door of your destination. Finally, (and perhaps the hardest thing for me to swallow) growing up means your employer (unlike your school district, and even college) doesn't give a rat's ass what you had to go through to arrive at work on a -10 degree, snowy/slushy/hail-filled day.

Oh to be young again.

Shameless Plug

So my coworker/friend's brother is a writer for this new comedy series that just got picked up by ABC. It looks fantastically funny, and I can't wait until it starts (within the next few months, I believe.)

It'd be super great if it got picked up for more episodes, so be sure to watch it when it starts. K?

Without further ado, "Better Off Ted" ...

Hello, 2009.

So we’re about a week into 2009, and I suppose it’s about time I post the somewhat-generic, but oh-so-popular, “resolution” post. I’ll begin by saying, my resolution for 2008 was also generic; however, I kept up with it. Like millions of other people out there, last year I resolved to get healthy/get fit. Who would of thought I would keep at it (I as sure as hell didn't), but a year of attending the gym 3 days/week, I think, just maybe, makes me a bona fide workout-er. Not to mention, a person who has, at least even if just once, kept to their New Year’s resolution. Here’s hoping I can do it again in ’09!

This year I plan to:

• Learn to play guitar.

• Re-learn how to knit.

No neither will earn me Nobel Peace prizes (perhaps a Grammy if the guitar thing works out), but they’re two things I really wish I was good at.

Playing guitar — I plan to take lessons, although Ward (who knows how to play *sudden flashback to high school days of his band “Good Compared to Nothing” just floated into my head ☺) objects to this “unnecessary” expense. He says, “Why don’t you just let me teach you?” Well, dear boyfriend, about six years ago you kindly taught me how to play “Smoke on the Water” — good, great, excellent! I truly appreciated it; however, nada single other song can I say would be on my Grammy performance play list but that. And even that beginner-level song I’m pretty sure I have fully forgotten. So, it’s time I pay a pro who I will feel obligated to see once a week because my money is on the line. 

As for the guitar? Well, you see I’ve had this really nice (at least I think it’s nice) acoustic guitar sitting in my room since I was twelve. I somehow “acquired” this instrument from my older brother. He likes to say I “stole” it. Potatoes, po-ta-toes! The thing has been in my room for ten years! He could have easily walked right in there at any point and taken it, but nope, it remains. What’s the saying? “Possession is 9/10 of the law?” Doesn’t that apply? My step-dad — the cop — says no, but what does he know? (Kidding, of course!) Anyways, I need to use his to take lessons, to learn if this is something I’m in fact good at/will keep up with before I go and drop a butt load of money on my own, right? We don’t want this to be like the 5th grade when I was convinced I would become a wold-class flutist and convinced my mom to let me play, right?

Lessons with brother's guitar it is.

As for the other resolution — relearn to knit — this one I think should be less expensive and perhaps a skill I will carry with me into my nineties. Wouldn’t that be lovely? It may not win me any Grammy Awards, but perhaps an all-knit clothing line? One can dream.

A long time ago, in 6th grade, I learned how to knit in home ec., well at least I tried. I was either far too bored to learn how to properly perform this octogenarian-type skill, or I just don’t have a knack for it. I recall my pot holders and coasters not looking like the girl’s sitting next to me. Far, far too many knots. For the final project, a friend of mine ever so kindly knitted a scarf for me so that I would get an A.

A significant amount of time has past since then, and I would like to think my attention span to learn new things, not to mention my fine motor skills, have greatly improved. My goal is to have a sweater knitted by next Christmas!

I guess for a resolution to work, you have to pick one that is achievable. I’m confident that guitar and knitting are do-able. I’m tempted to throw photography on this year’s list of goals, but I just don’t think what I exactly have in mind is possible at this point in time — both financially-speaking and available time-wise. I would love to wipe the dust of my dad’s old Nikon (another item I “acquired; see a pattern developing?) and get back into shooting and developing. None of this digital crap. I want to get down and dirty in the dark room, with plastic tanks and reels, stop baths and fixers — the best part of photography. However, until I can afford to convert a closet into my very own dark room … wait, rephrase ... until I purchase my own place and can convert a closet into my very own dark room, this resolution will have to wait.

*Note to self, 2010’s resolutions — purchase a home.

Happy 2009!

Five reasons why it doesn't feel like Christmas ...

1.) I had to work today. WORK. ON CHRISTMAS EVE. WHAT THE?

2.) I am NOT currently in the midst of a month-long break from all things that cause stress. I therefore, do NOT get to sleep until noon each day, stay out past midnight, catch up with friends temporarily home from college, or watch sweet daytime TV that I have so come to miss. Oh no, instead I'm waking up each day at the butt-crack of dawn (ok, ok 6 a.m., but whatev), to climb into a freezing car, to sit in an hour commute, to arrive at a busy workplace, to be tied down to a desk for 8 hours. Bitter much?

3.) No snow. Lotso rain. (This one is nothing new. Christmas in Pittsburgh is not Christmas at all without grey skies, a whole lotta rain and nada snow. The truly unfair part? Plenty of snow last week. This week? Not so much.)

4.) Grandma did NOT include me in the coveted "gather around grandma's passing out money envelopes to all the kids" act. No, no, no. I was completely left out of that generous tradition I had come accustom to benefiting from. $10? No, it's not a lot of money, but it's the principle people!

5.) No LIVE Christmas tree. All my life we had a live tree. We would get together a few weeks before the big day and either hit up a local tree lot, or (my more favorite way of obtaining a tree) venture out to a tree farm to chop one down ourselves. Yes, that's right we Griswold-it. And, you know what? I was damn proud of it. I always judged those families that put up a fake tree. A synthetic tree seemed to go against all that was Christmas. I don't know why or how, it just did. Period. But now? At my house? Fake tree all the way. Granted, it's the Cadillac of fake trees. I guess my mom thought that by purchasing a ridiculously expensive fake tree I would forget it was fake. Nope. Wrong.

Here's hoping tomorrow's Christmas festivities feel more like the good ole' days. Here's also hoping my other Grandma doesn't also deem me to old to receive monetary treats. And finally, here's hoping the week-long vacation I have scheduled to take off from work next week will help to fill the dismal void in my life that no-more-college-holiday-breaks has created. Merry Christmas everyone!

It's-a-me, Mario! (meant to be pronounced in cheesy, high-pitched, Italian-accented voice)

So, much of my week has been spent playing original Super Mario Brothers on Ward's Xbox. "Waaa???? How is it you're playing a game produced by Nintendo on a console produced by Microsoft??" I hear ya.

Well the answer is quite simple, really. Ward is a crook … an exceptionally tech-savvy crook that knows how to … what's the word he told me … ah yes, "mod" his Xbox to have EVERY Nintendo game EVER created available. Thus, causing me to spend endless amounts of time sitting on the couch like a waste-of-life directing Mario through Mushroom Kingdom on a fruitless search for Princess Toadstool … not without having to defeat those pesky Goombas, Koopa Troopas and of course evil King Koopa himself.

What a fine life I lead.

aha! success.

It took me a pathetic amount of time to figure out how to get a video on here that didn't look like my last sad attempt, but I eventually figured it out (not without a little help from my dear friend, of course).

Not much to say about Drag Queen Bingo last week other than it was utterly ... AMAZING!

Meet Jezebel.

These are a few of my least favorite things ...

• Early morning texters.
• Windshield wipers that just smear the snow, rather than wipe it off.
• When two radio stations play the same song, at the same time.
• When a radio station cuts off the end of a really good song.
• Sidewalk hogs.
• Rude cashiers.
• Bad coffee.
• Burnt bagels.
• A long-drawn-out-eight-hour-work-day-with-really-not-much-to-do-to-occupy-my- time-but-post-meaningless-blog-entries-and-Google-stuff, standing between me and my weekend.

HAPPY FRIDAY!

*on a more positive note, 13 more days to Christmas!!! booya!

Dino Live ... YAY!

So I was ecstatic to say the least when I left work yesterday and noticed I had a text from my friend, Sta, asking if I wanted to join her tonight at Dino Live! Twenty-four hours prior I had never even heard of it, but coincidentally, at work yesterday we had a staff meeting and everyone was talking about it. I didn't get a clear idea of what it exactly was, but I was told by co-workers who had already seen it that it was incredible. I was able to gather that dinosaurs, or rather dinosaur lookalikes, we're involved in some capacity and that it was enjoyable for all ages. I was intrigued enough to think about looking into purchasing tickets, but plump forgot. Then by some strike of both luck and coincidence, I received that generous invite.

Walking into the show, we really had no idea what to expect. I was thinking it was maybe some type of virtual experience, but by no means thought we would get to see what we, well, go to see. As explained on their website, "Fifteen roaring, snarling LIVE dinosaurs mesmerize the audience and are as awe-inspiring as when they first walked the Earth." T-Rex, Stegosaurus, Brachiosaurus and some other guy I never heard of before, Utahraptor, were all there!

I'm still not really sure what the dinos were made of. They were a mix between robot, costume and awesomeness. I would highly recommend checking it out if given the chance. FYI, you can bring a camera. I assumed you wouldn't be allowed to take pictures, which explains the shoddy quality of the cellphone pics and video below.

Check out the intense fight between Mama-Rex and a dino that looked like a hedgehog that was trying to eat Baby-Rex!

Download dinofite.3g2 (Be sure to turn up your sound to get the full experience.)

He uses his tail as defense, waaa?