Jumping on the New Year's Resolution Bandwagon...

Surprise! It’s New Years again. That time of year when everyone pretends they have the motivation to start (and continue) with something new. The time of the year when gyms are packed, healthy food flies off the shelf, and volunteer organizations have record high numbers of…well…volunteers.

And then comes February and life is as it was the year before. After all, change is a bitch.

I always seem get especially impassioned around this time of year. Not because I get to spend more time with family or because I thought of the best New Year’s resolution to date, quite the contrary: It’s because I believe I am the one human being on this planet that does not look forward to the New Year. But as much as I despise the New Year, I can’t seem to explain why that makes sense to anyone… not even to myself.

I look on the New Year in a cup-half-empty kind of way (shocker). I mean, think about it, there is another 365 days (366 in 2012) that we have to get through till the end of the year. No, not in an optimistic Woohoo-I-have-another-365-days-to-accomplish-my-goals way, but in a pessimistic, I-have-another-365-blinkin’-days-until-I-can-start-again way. Here comes the clincher: You would think that mentality makes me look forward to the New Year, right?

But no.

Because then I have another 365 days to get through…

I’m a walking contradiction. It makes no sense. I know, yes thanks for giving me that look.

Anyway, so personal feelings aside, as we all know one tradition (that just will not die) around New Years is to make resolutions. And from my experience there are some that are SO much more poplar than others. Namely:

* Getting in shape/going to the gym/exercising more, or any variation thereof. (It's a notable resolution for sure, and one most doctors would be proud of, but how many years will we repeat the same half-hearted resolution only to fail, once again, at accomplishing it?)

* Stop smoking/Eat better/Stop drinking, etc. etc. (Yes, I'm all for people stopping smoking--it's a disgusting habit; or eating healthier--McDonald's will be the death of this nation; or drinking less for that matter--people make stupid decision when they drink, but do it with a friend. Because going cold turkey alone will lead to nothing except a healthy dose of whatever it was you were trying to give up as a consolation for the fact that you couldn't do it.)

Then, of course, you always get the I'm-so-witty resolution of "I resolve to not make any more New Year's resolutions!" Right. Tell yourself what you want but you're not clever, original, or smart.

My dad came up with an intriguing resolution, which I believe he has already endeavored to achieve: breaking habits.

As he said, his life had become a game of habit. Waking up, doing the same things day in and day out, visiting the same people, at the same time, on the same days; going to the same pubs to watch his rugby matches, for the same amount of time, on the same days of the week.

Are you tired yet?

So Dad decided that this year (well, next) he was going to break those habits. Instead of going to the same pub, he’d go to another where he wasn’t a regular. Instead of having tea with his neighbor on Sunday, he’d do it…well…whenever he felt like it. It’s amazing how little old ladies can get so stuck in their ways, hopefully she’ll be able to handle the new schedule too.

Anyway, what struck me about this resolution is that it is fresh. Sure not everyone can do it; I mean I have a job, habit is part of my life, but for a retiree, I think it is ingenious.

So with this in mind I began thinking of what I would resolve to accomplish in the New Year. It has been so long since I've made a resolution but I've decided that this year I'll jump on the bandwagon and see what all the fuss is about. It has been a long road though, choosing my resolution, I mean I already keep fit by doing Insanity. I already eat fairly healthy, don’t smoke, barely drink. I already spend more time with my sister on this side of the country and I’ve already decided I’m going to start learning Italian (I just have to start…).

So after much thinking and reading back over some blogs I wrote a while ago, I've come to the conclusion that in 2012...

I resolve to be more optimistic.

That's right, less pessimism and more optimism.

It will be a tough road for sure, and no doubt it will be accompanied by many a strange look, but the possibility is intriguing: can one actually make oneself optimistic? Or are pessimistic thoughts something one is born with?

Thoughts?

Things I L.O.V.E. to H.A.T.E.

Let’s talk for a minute about pet peeves. You know that feeling you get that starts deep down, maybe emanating from your bones, that just takes over your whole body, tingling your skin, or sends your mind into overdrive, steam blowing out your ears, when you hear that one word, or see that one thing (or 10) that you would say you quite possibly hate the most in the world?

Okay, maybe that is a slight over-exaggeration, but for a hothead such as myself, it’s not that far off really. When I read, or hear, or see one of the things I would classify as a pet peeve, my brain shuts down for a second, possibly as a defense mechanism? Maybe it is a way to protect myself from the stupidity I had just been subjected to, because in essence, my pet peeves are attributed to other people’s stupidity...well, most of them anyway...

So without further ado, I’d like to share them with you, in the hopes that I’m not the only person on the planet bothered by these things.

Pet Peeve No. 1: “your” and “you’re”

Now I’ve heard a lot of people express distaste for this grammatically incorrect error, and yet, even they make it. I’m going to be brutally honest here: It’s an American thing. To my best recollection, I never ran across it with such frequency in South Africa. I used to attribute it to being a simple typing error, and then I heard it in a song and I thought: if they don’t even know the difference in pronunciation, how the hell can we expect them to spell it properly on paper?

Needless to say, that is not an excuse and my skin still cringes whenever I see the error on paper (or on Facebook where it abounds!...Side note: when do you think Microsoft will add the word “Facebook” to their dictionary?) So let me see if I can clarify this for all of you 'your'-ers out there when you should really be saying 'you’re':

Your = possessive pronoun, as in “your dog just pooped in my yard.” You’re = the contraction of ‘you are’, as in “you’re (you are) going to have to pick that sh** up yourself.” Thank you for your cooperation. It will go a long way toward keeping me sane.

Pet Peeve No. 2: “déjà vu all over again”

I hear this frequently, even by professionals on the morning CBS news. According to Merriam Webster, déjà vu literally means: a feeling that one has seen or heard something before. I like to define it as the feeling that you have been through something before, or more simply, that you are reliving an experience, or even more simply, that something is happening again. Hence “déjà vu all over again” is a redundant statement. What is redundant? “Characterized by or containing an excess; specifically: using more words than necessary.” Déjà vu suffices to mean, “Man, I swear I’ve been through this before!” don’t be obnoxious by adding the 'all over again', because what I hear is, “Man, I swear this is happening all over again all over again” [repetition intended], and who wouldn’t be annoyed by someone saying that?!?

Pet Peeve No. 3: Running water

When you hear the soothing sound of a brook flowing, I hear the sound of thousands of gallons of water being wasted when we’re in a water shortage. Okay, maybe not very much of that sentence is true, as far as I know we aren’t in a drought and water flowing in a brook isn’t being wasted, unless I claimed that that is good water that has gone to waste as it isn’t being used… which would probably lead to a public outcry over my dislike, nay hatred, for the earth. Again, not true.

What I do hate though, is the sound of water running from a tap (aka faucet in America). For example, the incessant drip drip drip of a tap that hasn’t been closed properly. Or the sound of the water running as someone takes a shower or brushes their teeth. It sends shivers down my spine. I have to consciously ignore the sound or move to a room where I don’t hear it. It’s that bad. Thankfully though, or by miraculous design, it doesn’t bother me as I’m the one taking the shower or brushing my teeth. Otherwise, I know a few people who wouldn’t want to be around my stinky, unbathed, unbrushed self.

Pet Peeve No. 4: Idiots

So you know how when you’re driving and you’re coming up on a car that has its brake lights on in front of you so you move over so as not to have to brake and then the lane you moved in to slows down even more than the one you were in to begin with but you already lost your place so can’t move back over? (I swear I just wrote that entire run-on sentence without taking a breath.) Ya. That pisses. me. off. to a degree no human being should have to be put through.

Sometimes I’m driving and I like to think they’re doing it just to spite me (seriously). I’ll be in lane A and the car in front of me slows down. So I move to lane B, but for no reason at all that car slows down and the car in lane A moves past us, so I move into lane A and low and behold the idiot in the car decides to slow down again while the car in lane B flies by. At that point I can guarantee that no one would want to be in the car with me...

There was a time, not all that long ago, when it seemed I had gained a small percentage of the patience I never had. I attributed it to my boyfriend, who is inhuman in his ability not to get frustrated. Sadly though, being away from him for the past year has led to me revert back with an even higher degree of impatience, as if the demons are punishing me for leaving the dark side for that brief spell.

Anyway at times it seems like the harder I try to stay calm, the more people do to try to push me over the edge, so what’s the point in trying?

The Height of "Are You For Real?"

What is it about traveling that turns even the most hardcore pessimists into even worse cynics? Didn’t see that one coming did you? Fine, or that turns optimists into pessimists?

In my case, I’m not the latter, so…

I’m a pessimist by nature, I believe. I have the worst luck on the planet, which I very recently learned I inherited from my father, who has the second worst luck on the planet. I took a brief foray into optimism a few short months ago but, in the end, I just find naysaying so much more exhilarating. What is so exciting about making lemonade out of lemons anyway? Why not just suck on the damn lemon until the glands in the back of your throat convulse from the acidity and you remember you’re alive?

Okay, focus … back to traveling. In my every day life, people annoy me. Now, throw me into a tin can with hundreds of them and it’s what I like to think hell would be like. My own personal hell. I’m not one of those people who like to make small talk with the stranger sitting on my right who, after the flight, I will never see or speak to again.

For that matter I don’t like talking to people in or around an airport, period.

I become a loner. An observer. And as much as the conversations around me make me cringe, a listener. There is always the spoiled university student whose daddy pays for everything: “Guess what my dad gave me for Christmas… he paid my credit card! I still want something for under the tree though, so I said I want a New Years dress, iPod speakers…the world on a silver platter….” Then there is the group of it’s-five-o’clock-somewhere university students out on a Spring Break-esque trip “Oh. My. God. When we get there, LET’S DO SHOTS!” What I notice about both of these is 1. The uncomfortably high volume in which they speak so that everyone around them can have the “privilege” of hearing and 2. They make me hate people even more.

Then there is the tall, broad-shouldered, I-spend-three-hours-a-day-in-the-gym-and-I’m-in-love-with-myself white/Latino. As I walk by, I notice, I mean he does look good, but right as we pass each other, he makes eye contact and gives me a come-hither, you-know-you-want-this smile. My reaction: I roll my eyes. Just in time so he can see.

And there is, of course, always the adorable, sweet old couple who tries to make conversation and you just really feel too damn rude to ignore. I’ll give them a pass because they are old, hoping that one day, someone will do the same for me.

On this last trip I took to Costa Rica, I was particularly not in the mood for conversation after just saying goodbye to my boyfriend … again. I was waiting in line for check in and, as if my signals could not be anymore obvious, a 40-something white American male behind me says “Sad to leave?” “Mhmm,” I reply, without looking at him.

Note for the socially clueless: No eye contact = No desire to have a conversation with you.

“How long were you here,” he prods.

“Not all that long.” I turn my back to him.

“I was here for 3 weeks. I come every few months or so.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s a beautiful country, you really should come and stay longer. I always spend my time in Jaco, maybe a few days in San Jose.”

I think to myself: Jaco is the worst beach to spend 3 weeks at and you couldn’t visit an uglier Costa Rican city than San Jose.

“Was this your first time here,” he continues, clueless.

“No, I lived here for two and a half years.”

Silence. That will shut him up, I thought.

“Oh, why were you here? For work?”

Ugh! Seriously dude. I’m not looking at you. I’m answering with short, first-grade sentences. I turn my back to you after every comment. How are you still talking to me? And as my luck would have it, I had another 30-40 minute wait in line with Mister chatter-box behind me. When it was my turn at the counter, I walked off as fast as possible, not looking back, while at the same time praying that for once in my life I’d have good luck and he wouldn’t sit next to me.

Be careful what you wish for.

God answered my prayer that day; he didn’t sit next to me. Instead I got a 300+ pound, 6+ foot, 40+ something Latino who, due to the size of his shoulders, forced me to fold myself uncomfortably into the nook in between my seat and the window, hoping for a fast flight.

It felt like an eternity.

There are of course the moments that make me smile a little too, although they always seem to be overwhelmed by the bad about flying. This trip, for example, the good came in knowing I didn’t have to convince an immigration official that my green card was, in fact, real and that I didn’t pay for a fake one. I didn’t have to scan my fingerprints and stare into the tiny camera as they captured my face. I didn’t have to answer questions about why I was out of the country for so long, or when I planned to leave again. In fact, this time, immigration hit on me. Twice. Once entering into Costa Rica and again arriving back in America.

And now my new, shiny American passport has its first stamps, stamps that I would willingly put myself through hell again to obtain.

Insanity: Are You Insane?

That should be Insanity's new slogan.

After failing miserably at my mid-years resolution to wake up at 5:45 every morning to hit the gym before going to work--if you remember my extremely long list of obstacles I would have had to overcome in order to be successful, I overcame a total of zero--I had to take another approach: working out after work (in the evening, when God intended) but before getting home. I found that once I was home, there wasn't any way I was going to leave again now that it's getting cold and dark at approximately 5:23.

Maybe my solution was a bit presumptuous, and I really think I have gone quite insane, but it's working.

For those of you who live under a rock and haven't yet heard of Shaun T's complete body fitness program, fittingly dubbed "Insanity", I invite you to Google it... and be amazed.

Who in their right mind would do such a thing?

Me. At least I was in my right mind when I resolved to give it a try.

Through the grapevine at work I heard that a few girls were getting together after work to give it a whirl, and after struggling to get myself to the gym even one day a week, I thought this would be the perfect solution: I workout before even leaving work. Genius!

Admittedly, I don't think I gave the program the respect it deserved. I thought, "heck! I work out, or at least I did. I'll be fine and this way I'll get back into my routine."

Ignorant (maybe this should be, arrogant) assumption No. 1: I work out.

Making it down to the gym one day a week when the weather is warm and sunny, running only 25 minutes before stretching, doing 10 repetitions with some dumbbells, then opting instead to return for dinner, doesn't constitute working out. That has been my routine for about 3 months now.

Ignorant assumption No. 2: I'll be fine.

No joke: I came as close to collapsing as ever in my life after just the warm up. And then, it got harder. By the time I left on that first day, my legs were shaking so badly I had to wait a minute before I could drive. Surprisingly though, after that first day I could still walk and my muscles weren't as sore as I had expected them to be... and then the cockiness set back in.

On day two we did the plyometrics circuit. By that afternoon my muscles were feeling much more fatigued and in hindsight I probably should have opted out of the workout, gone home, taken some glutamine and rested, which is exactly what I didn't do. Picture this: a not-all-that athletic white girl with fatigued muscles trying to squat, jump and basically just move in any way. By the time I made it home, I knew there was no hope of me walking the next day. As much as I tried to stretch that evening, I wanted nothing more than to sit and not move, which is exactly what I did do.

The following morning, it took me three tries to get out of bed. I couldn't stand the pain of making my muscles stretch to a standing point. How I made it to work, and through work, is beyond me. I chickened out of Insanity for the next two days and the weekend (maybe chickened out isn't the correct description here, I literally could not move), but come Monday I was ready and raring to go. And from there it has gradually gotten easier. In only two weeks I have seen my stamina increase, I've already lost an inch in my hips, and I only want to collapse half-way through the warm-up instead of a minute into it.

This workout is truly the most insane thing I've done in terms of fitness, but I am thoroughly enjoying it. While the other girls one do it twice a week, I'm there every day it is offered. I even did it at home alone one evening (but won't be trying that again).

Insanity is definitely something to add to your bucket list, but trust me on this one: do it with friends. Otherwise there is no hope of keeping yourself motivated for the insanity that will, without doubt, ensue.

Expressions of love...

At the beginning of the year I bought a daily calendar entitled "I Love You Every Day" in an attempt to keep me motivated until I got to see my boyfriend sporadically throughout the year. As you can imagine it has a love quote for every day of the year (some of them were not so much about being in love as about being unhappy because of it, which I found strange. I threw those one's out.) There were a few I saved, however, and my favourites and these:

Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Love is the same as like except you feel sexier. ~ Judith Viorst

If you love life, life will love you back. ~ Arthur Rubinstein

Love is the only thing that keeps me sane. ~ Sue Townsend

In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities. ~ Janos Arnay

Whoever has loved knows all that life contains of sorrow and of joy. ~ George Sand

There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved. ~ George Sand

Love is a friendship that has caught fire… It is a loyalty through good and bad. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses. ~ Ann Landers

Love needs to be proved by action. ~ Saint Therese of Lisieux

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. ~ Thomas Haynes Bayly (This one I generally disagree with, but it is still a beautiful concept and deserves its place here.)

Where there is love, there is no imposition. ~ Albert Einstein

To be loved means to be consumed. To love is to give light with inexhaustible oil. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Where there is great love, there are always miracles. ~ Willa Cather

Love is a game that two can play and both win. ~ Eva Gabor

True love’s the gift which God has given to man alone beneath the heaven. ~ Sir Walter Scott

What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us. ~ Helen Keller

Love is the light that you see by. ~ Bess Streeter Aldrich

Love alone matters. ~ Saint Therese of Lisieux

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart. ~ Helen Keller.

Love is content with the present, it hopes for the future, and it doesn’t brood over the past. ~ Ann Landers

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. ~ Fredrich Nietzshe

To live without loving is not really to live. ~ Moliere

We never live so intensely as when we love strongly. We never realize ourselves so vividly as when we are in the full glow of love for others. ~ Walter Rauschenbush

Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile. ~ Franklin P. Jones

Loe is content with the present, it hopes for the future, and it doesn't brood over the past. ~ Ann Landers

To love is to take delight in the happiness of another, or, what amounts to the same thing, it is to account another's happiness one's own. ~ Gottfried Leibnitz

Love is the reason for it all. ~ Dorothy Fields

Through love, through friendship, a heart lives more than one life. ~ Anais Nin

The man who has never made a fool of himself in love will never be wise in love. ~ Theodor Reik

We love those who know the worst of us and don't turn their faces away. ~ Walker Percy

There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy. ~ Jean Anouilh

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ~ I Corinthians 13:4-5

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, and men below, and saints above; For love is heaven, and heaven is love. ~ Sir Walter Scott

Being loved anyway is not being regarded as perfect but being accepted as imperfect. ~ Ellen Goodman

Love is not dumb. The heart speaks many ways. ~ Jean Racine

Love has the power to give in a moment what toil can scarcely reach in an age. ~ Johann Wolfgang van Goethe

The heart that has truly loved never forgets, but as truly loves on to the close. ~ Thomas Moore

The one thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we never give enough of is love. ~ Henry Miller

A woman has got to love a bad man once or twice in her life to be thankful for a good one. ~ Mae West [AMEN TO THIS ONE!!!]

Love, genuine love, makes people good. ~ Victoria Wolff

Two persons love in one another the future good which they aid one another to unfold. ~Margaret Fuller

Where love is concerned, too much is not even enough. ~Pierre de Beaumarchais

Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness. ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

Whoso loves believes the impossible. ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

If you would be loved, love and be lovable. ~Benjamin Franklin

Love is always in the mood of believing in miracles. ~John Cowper Powys

It is love, not reason, that is stronger than death. ~Thomas Mann

Till it has loved, no man or woman can become itself. ~Emily Dickinson

Till I loved I never lived enough. ~Emily Dickinson

The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know. ~Blaise Pascal

Love is never complete in any person. There is always room for growth. ~Leo Buscaglia

When a man is in love he endures more than at other times; he submits to everything. ~Friedrich Nietzche

Love cannot be forced, love cannot be coaxed and teased. It comes out of Heaven, unasked and unsought. ~Pearl S. Buck

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. ~Emily Bronte

When the desire is on for one particular person, nobody else will do. ~Caitlin Thomas

Perhaps loving something is the only starting place there is for making your life your own. ~Alice Koller

Love conquers all things, let us too surrender to Love. ~Virgil

To be able to say how much you love is to love but little. ~Petrarch

The next greatest pleasure to love is to talk of love. ~Louise Labe

Never doubt love...Never question it when it comes onstage, but be happy for its entrance... ~Helen Van Slyke

(That's it. Hopefully these inspired you to love a bit more deeply as they did for me. Happy loving!)

Who says resolutions are for New Years?...

I am putting this in writing for one reason: it becomes more official. If even one person reads this and asks me how it went, I would be embarrassed to say that I didn't in fact achieve what I set out to do. So what is it? Read on.

Most of you know that I would generally not be classified as a “morning person”. If given the opportunity to sleep in past 10 every day, I would. Hell I even chose a political science major over business because it meant I could sleep in an hour later every morning (okay, that wasn’t the official reason, but it was definitely a consideration). My regular morning routine consists of me hitting snooze at least twice, then still dozing for an extra 5 minutes after I turned the alarm off all together. And there is coffee. Until recently, a lot of it. I don’t generally consider myself fully functional until at least 2 cups of java, a shower, and the clock reading at least 10a.m.-ish.

That is what is going to make this all the more difficult.

After a lot of research during my various hours of downtime at work recently, I have decided, for many reasons, that I am going to become a morning exerciser. This might not seem worthy of a whole blog post and hours of research to you, but to me it is a life-changing decision. To me it means getting up between 5:45 and 6 a.m. Monday through Friday to workout before work, when I would normally sleep until 7. It means getting up before the sun and sweating out a few hundred calories before my normal day would even begin.

Now this isn’t the first time I’ve ever worked out before showering and starting my day, but those runs or gym sessions were planned at around 9 or 10a.m. (8 at the earliest) once my sleep had run its full course and I had woken up naturally. In Costa Rica during the last semester of my thesis seminar, I would set the alarm to wake up at 7:30, drink my coffee, check my emails and only THEN work out at around 8:30 when the sun was high. For a semester actually, freshman year, I would get up with Char’Lee and Travis for a work out before any normal person would. I only managed that though because I had two other people to motivate me, and, well, it only lasted a semester, if not less.

I have gotten into the rhythm of working out after work. For the 6 months I lived in California after graduation, I would head to the gym on my way home, be there an hour or so, and get home around 6:30. The nice thing there though was that Mom would cook dinner. All I had to do was get home and relax.

Now is a different story. Since I moved into my new apartment in Greensboro my workouts have been sporadic at best. I come up with every reason in the book not to workout after work: it was a long day, my head hurts from the computer, I won’t have time to cook and eat dinner at a decent time (this is a valid excuse), I won’t get to talk to my boyfriend (also a valid excuse). Anyway, what it leads to is me not working out, feeling like a bum, becoming depressed from lack of exercise, overeating… the list goes on. So here are my reasons for becoming a morning exerciser:

1. There will be no time constraints. When I work out in the evening, I very often cut my workout short because of everything I feel I need to get done before bed. I cut it short (or put on hold all together) if I want to cook a meal that will take longer than usual, if I have a freelance project to work on, if I have a Skype date with my novio, if I go to the grocery store, or if I go out with co-workers after work. I tend to go to bed early too, so my evenings at home aren’t long enough to accomplish everything I feel I need to. These might all sound like excuses, and they are I know, but they work, because for almost three weeks I didn’t make it to the gym once.

2. Research shows that morning exercisers are, among other things, 1. More consistent in going, 2. Sleep better than evening exercisers, 3. Get a boost of energy that lasts through the morning, stimulating brainpower and function, and 4. Jump-start their metabolisms. I read many articles on this subject (here is my favorite: http://www.sparkpeople.com/resource/fitness_articles.asp?id=468) and it seems there is a consensus that, although our body is in optimal form for exercise in the evening, morning exercisers reap more benefits.

3. I can have my cake and eat it to. I love my boyfriend. And I love exercising. Generally exercising takes back seat to chatting with my honey in Costa Rica. But if I wake up at 6a.m. (4a.m. his time) there is no reason why I can’t workout given that there is no way we will be talking at that God-forsaken-hour of the morning.

4. My evenings will be free. There is nothing better than getting home from work, putting my feet up, and relaxing all night. My brain and body are tired from sitting in front of a computer all day and the last thing on my mind is working out. This way, I get a great workout, which always makes me feel energized and improves my mood 100 times over, and I get to go home, sit down and just veg out in front of the TV all evening (or to play tennis or go out with coworkers, etc.)

5. I won't have to shower twice. I'm not sure when or why, but at some point I started really not liking getting wet. When I was a kid I took swimming lessons and I loved to swim, up until a few years ago. Then one day, out of the blue, I hated getting wet. This includes showers (don't worry, I still shower every morning). So the thought of having to shower twice is a big determent of evening workouts for me.

This goal isn’t without its obstacles. Here are some:

1. We’re going into winter. If I hate getting up early in the summer, I will hate it even more in the winter, when all I’ll want to do is stay in a warm bed. Plus, in summer by 6a.m. there might be a glimpse of a sunrise. 6a.m. in winter may as well be midnight.

2. The snooze button. I somehow manage sometimes to hit snooze over and over again without realizing it or without getting annoyed by the constant noise trying to wake me up. I envision myself doing just that. I’ll say in my sleep, just 10 more minutes and then I’ll get up, and then next thing I know its time to get ready for work. My solution? Zero snooze. The minute that alarms goes off, I’m jumping out of bed without thinking twice. All I need to do it get there on day one. After that, I’ll just remind myself how I did it once, I can do it again.

So starting tomorrow, Wednesday, at 6a.m. I will be conditioning my body to wake up early and exercise. Let’s see how it goes.

Becoming a gringa/American...

News update: I am now an American. After 12 long years living in America (really they did feel long, especially since my family waited 6 years after moving to the US for permanent residency when the norm is generally quite a bit less) the fanfare is over. And what a ride it was. Below is a short timeline of the major events:

Feb. 19, 1999: After a very long wait for a visa to become available, we arrived at our new home in America.

Early 2001: We initiated the process of applying for permanent residency.

Sept. 11, 2011: I don't suppose this needs any explanation but basically all applications were put on hold or slowed down dramatically.

Oct. 2005: We are finally granted permanent residency.

Jan. 2009: I leave the country to study a Master's degree abroad, without applying for a Re-entry permit, meaning I can't be out of the country for longer than 6 months without forfeiting my green card.

June 2010: I struggle with immigration agents at LAX upon re-entry. I am taken for additional questioning and warned regarding the amount of time I have spent out of the country.

Feb. 2011: I submit my application for citizenship in California along with the $685 application fee (which is non-refundable if, for some reason, they decided to deny my application).

March 2011: I move from CA to NC for a great work opportunity.

Early July 2011: After already being fingerprinted, I am called into the Charlotte USCIS offices for my citizenship interview, which includes the infamous Citizenship Test (a joke, seriously). Although I pass with flying colours (anyone who paid attention in US History class would) I am requested to send in proof that I applied in California and asked for case to be moved to NC after that (there is a requirement that you have to be a resident in the state you apply in for 3 months prior to applying).

Early Aug. 2011: After a slight delay to process the extra paperwork and approve my application, I am summoned (basically) to appear at the oath ceremony in the courthouses in Greensboro on August 19th at 12:30pm.

Aug. 19, 2011: My mom, sister and I head for the courthouse in downtown Greensboro, hoping to get there a bit earlier to find parking and our way to the correct room. A line of people snakes out the courthouse doorway and down the steps. After what seemed an eternity and making our way through security, we arrive to find a packed courtroom and no one informing of what we should do. After a bit of confusion, I took my seat in the front and the others in the back. An official looking guy and his partner proceeded to call us up individually by rows (no names at this point) to hand in our green cards and sign a form. It took about 45 minutes to get through everyone. Once we're all nicely seated again, the same guy starts rearranging us, clearly not in alphabetical order, nor by country, nor colour. Where the order came from, I will never know. This took another 20 or so minutes. Once we are all seated, again, in our new positions, he mutters to his partner "We have about 25 minutes?" At this point I am praying to God that that means everything will be over in 25 minutes. But boy was I wrong. Based on my sister's experience in Charlotte that took about an hour from start to finish, I hadn't eaten breakfast (I woke up late) or lunch, expecting to be able to go eat around 2pm with my family in celebration. So at this point I am cranky and about ready to fall over from hunger. Said official goes into a question and answer session: "Now that you are citizens (not yet buddy) what can you do?" Really... do we have to go through this NOW? I already read the handbook! Finally at about 2:05pm (late, of course) the clerk of court comes in and announces the judge: "Oye, Oye, Oye, all rise for the honorable Judge...." I'm not kidding. I burst out laughing... out loud. Anyway the ceremony itself lasted another 45 minutes or so and involved us standing up, raising our right hand, taking the oath to fight for America, renounce our former citizenship, etc., and finally them calling us up INDIVIDUALLY to confer our citizenship certificates. One after another we were asked to state our names and were we were from. And then we were given a little flag to wave proudly and the same court clerk announced the Judge's departure. Finally, it was over. Now let's go eat!

Overall it wasn't an unpleasant experience, just a long one. I was looking forward to a short and sweet ceremony and good food with family and friends afterwards, but it turned out to be quite the opposite (although the food we ate was quite notable). The experience was even anti-climatic. Although I never had or have any intention of going back to live in South Africa, I felt like a traitor, abandoning my country of birth for a better, more progressive one. There really wasn't any excitement leading up to the day either, it just felt like another step I had to take to make my future goals and plans possible, after all, when it really comes down to it I've considered America my home for years now, even lumping myself in with Americans when I say, "In America we...."

Now though, I am officially American, and when my friends from Barva, Costa Rica call me "Gringa" (American) I can't argue and say I'm not (which just fueled the nickname more). Also, I just applied for my American passport, one which will make traveling to just about any country in the world that much easier. Who knows, maybe now I'll even take another stab at Panama! (That is a different story all together, for anyone that is interested in hearing it, let me know).

Dumb things people say on the radio: Cinco de Mayo

This is another I-can't-believe-he-just-said-that-out-loud moment, this one also from a few days ago, specifically May 5th, or as Americans like to call it, Cinco de Mayo (I know you're probably thinking to yourselves, Americans? Doesn't she mean Mexicans? but read on and I'll explain.)

After the idiotic Canadian statement I mentioned yesterday, I promptly changed the radio station, hoping to encounter smarter people on a new station. Again, I'm not sure where I landed, 94 point something maybe, but it seemed the two hosts were more careful in what they said... or so it seemed, that is, until May 5th. This is what was said:

Guy: "Happy Cinco de Mayo."

Girl: "And to you."

Guy: "What is Cinco de Mayo anyway?"

Girl: "I don't know, wasn't it a revolution?"

Guy: "or Mexican Independence."

Girl [laughing]: "I don't know."

Ummm... first of all, why would Americans celebrate Mexican Independence Day? Do we celebrate Irish independence? Or Japanese independence? Or for that matter, South African independence? Or the day England gave Hong Kong back to China? Um... nope. Now, to someone who also didn't know what Cinco de Mayo represents, maybe this wouldn't have been such an idiotic statement, but my sentiments are: why is Cinco de Mayo so big in America if 1) nobody knows what the day celebrates and 2) it has zero to do with America and 100% to do with Mexico? It's just an excuse to eat Mexican food and drink Dos Equis, right? Right.

Now, I did happen to know the true meaning behind Cinco de Mayo (which is neither a revolution nor Independence Day); I believe I learned it in one of my Spanish classes at Mars Hill, but regardless, for the sake for being sure, I did a quick Wiki search before silently slamming the pair for their complete ignorance. On Wikipedia, the first sentence which one reads, right after the title "Cinco de Mayo" says: "Not to be confused with Mexican Independence Day." Well, I guess his theory is out. I read on. Second sentence: Cinco de Mayo (Spanish for the fifth of May) is a holiday held on May 5th. Duh. I read on. "It is celebrated nationwide in the United States and regionally in Mexico..." Pause. Wait, what? Further down: "...a regional holiday limited primarily to the state of Puebla. Some limited recognition of the holiday in other parts of the country..." Cinco de Mayo is, as everyone "knows" a Mexican holiday, yet it is MORE widely celebrated in the U.S. than in Mexico? Interesting. That is something I didn't know.

Ok, so let me cut to the chase. Cinco de Mayo is the celebration/remembrance of the day Mexico won the Battle of Puebla (in Puebla, Mx) against the French back in 1862. Basically, the French tried to take hold of Mexico and the Mexicans said "no way, José..." or... well... whatever. There was a battle. Mexico won. Result: Cinco de Mayo.

Now why, you might ask, does America care about the outcome of the little battle of Puebla? Answer: it doesn't. In 2005 a resolution was passed to observe Cinco de Mayo as a way of celebrating Mexican-American heritage, just as St. Patty's day is a way of celebrating Irish heritage (whether you knew that or not). And there you have it. It really doesn't matter what Cinco de Mayo originally meant, in America it is celebrated for completely new reasons.

On a side note, isn't it odd how all the holidays "adopted" by Americans have primarily to do with drinking beer? I cite as examples Cinco de Mayo, St. Patty's, Oktoberfest...

Introducing "Dumb things people say on the radio"

Hello all. It has been a while since I've ventured to write anything... probably because there isn't much in my life to share these days. Well that's not entirely true either... A lot has changed since my last post (it was over two months ago after all), but I'll leave that update for another day. Today I have something more pressing to share and which I hope will lead to many a new amusing post for all of you to read. Since at the moment I seem to have quite a bit of downtime at work, I have decided to keep my mind sharp by starting a new series of posts, if you will, entitled: "Dumb things people say on the radio." I could instead continue to mindlessly read cellulite elimination tips on MSN or to privately ridicule celebrity's choices for baby names (which warrants a posting all to itself) but I get no satisfaction from keeping these things to myself and all it would only lead to a major vent session anyway. So let's call this my "outlet" for the steam that builds up in my head each day as I read or hear something that makes me wonder as to the intelligence of a whole nation of people.

So first off, is a little background information to put us on the same page. What in the world would make me want to write such a "series?" The short answer is: People who speak and think later. The long answer is: Morning after morning as I'm deciding on which outfit to wear that day or as I'm carefully putting on my makeup in the bathroom mirror, I am amazed at the stupid things I hear on the radio. I'm not talking about adverts, but rather about the things people choose to say out loud on the radio.

It all started one bright, sunny spring morning after I had just moved to Greensboro, North Carolina (I never listened to morning radio in California). The night before I had randomly chosen a radio station to use as an alarm and which I would keep on during the hour or so that it took me to get ready and eat breakfast. Although I can no longer recall which radio station it was, I do very clearly remember the idiotic remark which quite literally left me speechless. (As to the factuality of the story, I have not researched it, but the following is what was said.)

The morning hosts were commenting on gold being found by Canadians in the mountains of North Carolina (again, I have not checked the validity of this story). Then, as if it were the most factual statement of all time, the guy says: "We should make a law: You have to speak English to dig for gold in North Carolina." Ummm... what?!? My sentiments exactly. To make sure I wasn't out-of-the-loop on this one I quickly checked the CIA World Factbook statistics. Yep, his stupidity was confirmed: almost 60% of the Canadian population speaks English as their native language. Compared to only 22% that speaks French and the rest "other." Sure, it might be a lesser percentage than Americans who speak English but it sure as hell is a larger percentage than foreigners from just about any other country who might choose to try their luck in the Tar Heel mountains. Saying that about Canada would be like saying it about England or Australia for that matter, also once a British colony. I would have forgiven the comment if it were made about our neighbours to the south (although then there would probably have been a public outcry as to political correctness of the statement), but the Canadians? Had he ever actually MET a Canadian? I immediately thought about calling into the program and setting the idiot straight, but when you need them to offer their number, of course they never do. I am sure, though, that if he took two seconds to think about what he was about to say, he never would have said it.

People who say dumb things publicly should be publicly ridiculed, that's my stand, and for that very reason I'm starting this series. I have a couple other past estupideces (as the Spanish word so wonderfully describes it) to post before I catch up to the present, so expect more soon. I encourage all of you to comment and share your own I-can't-believe-he-just-said-that-out-loud moments. Cheers!

Opportunities...

On Thursday I read a quote my Michelle Williams cited in a magazine published, as life would have it, by the very same company that just that day offered me the position of a lifetime, the type of position any recent graduate would dream of. The quote says, "I don't believe that life is linear. I think of it as circles - concentric circles that connect." And now, just days away from turning 26, my life truly has come full circle. A circle that consisted of 12 odd years, 5 different homes, visits to 7 different countries, learning another language, sweat, tears, excrucating pain and indescribable joy, friendship, and recently, love. These are the 12 years that my family has been living in the United States: 5 years of high school, 4 years of college, 2 years of grad school and time in between. For 9 of those years I lived in North Carolina; for about 8 of those I was itching to leave, dreaming of my life in a perpetually warm climate. Now, however, after 3 years spent in continuous summer, the good Lord has found it in his will, it seems, to send me back to where i couldn't wait to leave to begin with, with an opportunity for work I'd be an idiot to turn down. Just when my future was sitting at the crossroads of "Bleak" and "Utterly Depressing" I found an alternate route that has turned my world up-side-down. Life is ironic. After the job offer, I was left having to make a decision that was 100 times harder than any other I've made in my entire life. Do I pack up my life for the 6th time in 12 years, leaving behind family, new friends, my dog, and venture out into the world alone, again? Maybe 'alone' isn't fair. This time I'll just be leaving one family to be closer to another, and closer physically yet surely further away emotionally from love. What would life be, though, without its twists? And what would my life be without its hard decisions? The way I see it, the Lord has blessed me with the ability to adapt to my present needs or situation, to thrive there for a time, but then to always find my way back to the loving comfort only my home and family can provide.

Maybe moving back to North Carolina is just the next stepping stone towards the future I set out for myself and that, hopefully, is in God's plans for me.

I'm not without my fears. In fact, this time I'm petrified. But what's that they say about overcoming a fear? Tackle it head on. Maybe I just will.

The social networking era...

Ok, so I've come to a conclusion: there are entirely too many social networking sites to keep up with these days. There's Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn... and not to mention the forgotten Myspace (does it still exist?), and High5, and some new one called QuePasa or something of the sort. And then there is Blogger and Wordpress and... my head is spinning. I swear we spend more time updating our pages and stalking our friends (well, anyone for that matter) than we do actually talking to them. Having a face to face conversation, or at least one over the phone, is old school. Why even have a cellphone anymore, when you can just Facebook them???

I mean I do it to. Today I wrote on a friend's wall how I missed her. She wrote back seconds later that we should talk and catch up and that weeks ago she had sent me a message, which I had failed (oops) to reply to. And instead of calling her right then and there when I obviously wasn't doing anything at the time, and let's face it, she wasn't either if she was checking Facebook, I found her weeks old message and replied. Viola, we've caught up.... not exactly.

Truth is, even thinking about talking on the phone these days is a drag. Of course part of my problem is the whole 3 hour time difference between me and practically all of my friends. I admit I cannot count how many times I have looked at my ringing phone and just ignored the call instead of answering (I promise I haven't done it to you...). Truth is Facebook is convenient - I'll answer when I have the time, or when I feel like it, or when there is actually something to report.

So what all started my head spinning really, was that fact that recently I have started searching for new ways to join the job market. A traditional resume is not cutting it these days so I've made a website and professional blog to help move the process along. I even joined LinkedIn. So now I spend hours a day, checking three different email addresses, two social networks, two blogs, and a personal website. Its a wonder I even have time to do work... oh wait, I don't have one...

For those interested my website is: www.translationsdk.com

Professional blog: dktranslations.wordpress.com

Read. Like. Share.

On the job hunt...

So... the job hunt is well under way and I can really only comment one thing: where are all the jobs? Isn't America the land of opportunity? So WHERE are the opportunities? What ever happened to the American dream, with a great 9-5er and the white picket fence? Is it not time for the economic crisis to be OVER already?

As I'm sure you've guessed, I have come up empty-handed. My daily search of sites such as Monster.com, Careerbuilder.com, Craigslist.com, and ProZ.com have offered nothing more than a sinking feeling in my stomach everytime I see the "no matching job postings" glaring back at me like a bright red Do not enter sign. In my close to three weeks of searching I have had ONE blinking interview, which in all reality was a no-go before I even arrived at the office. I mean driving 40 miles each morning through "lovely" LA traffic for a job that at best in the same industry as what I plan to do permanently, and then driving another 40 miles home down the 405 into the heart of the 5 South/91 West traffic, well, I had a momentary lapse of judgement, that's all.

Truthfully, its disheartening waking up each morning and browsing through the lack of new job postings online. I knew it would never be easy, there are entirely too many (non-qualified) translators in the industry, but I guess I hadn't really prepared myself for the complete void that I now find in the job sector. In-house translator positions are not very common place in the States it would seem, and turning an established Language Service Provider away from their go-to Spanish translator is no easy feat, I would venture to say, even impossible. I know this because I worked in an LSP and I saw how hard it was for a beginning translator to get any work.

I guess as with everything, experience gets you what you want, but how do we get experience if no one will take a chance on a recent graduate? How do I get experience without work?

Here we go again...

Happy New Year... blaaaaaaah blah blah

I don't know why it is, but I swear I'm more cynical this time of year. When it comes down to it, I really quite despise the start of a new year. I mean just think... we have another whole 12 months to go before we reach the end of what could turn out to be a terrible year... or a great year... either way we will either want it to end sooner than that planned by God or we'll want it to last, which it will never do either. For instance, I would have liked last year to last another, oh forever... but it didn't, which was really kind of disappointing. Of course the new year brings new opportunities, new year's resolutions, a new you, but weren't there plenty of abandoned or unseized opportunities last year? Won't this year's resolutions die before the end of January anyway? Won't I resort back to the same person I was just a few miserable moments ago. That's the problem with change: when we want it, it very rarely lasts; when we don't want it, it's permanent.

On a brighter note though, I do have things to be thankful for. I'm back in the US with my family, although the job market here looks VERY scarce and I'm already bored after just a week. (If anyone in Southern Cali knows of a need for a Spanish translator PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU CALL ME!) I made it though immigration with absolutely NO problem this time! Now for those of you who read my rant about the US immigration posted about 6 months ago, you'll know this was quite a blessing. I guess it pays 1. to go to a guy and 2. be prepared but mainly 1. go to a guy. Hell, even after landing at LAX at 11:05 pm on New Years Eve, miraculously I was able to make it through immigration, collect my bags, pass customs AND get to the car with Mommy and Brondt just in time to wish them a "happy" New Year. I suppose that really IS something to be thankful for considering how long I had been DREADING the reencounter with LAX immigration.

Today I was asked by a lady in Barnes and Noble, as I was browsing the Christian Help section: "If someone tried to kill you and now that someone is in prison and you were going to visit her, which book would you take?" I guess I have that to be thankful for too: no one has tried to kill me. I recommended the daily devotional on how to be a better woman of God.

Of course now that the new year is well under way there is no point in wishing I were still in 2010. I can only embrase what memories I have from before and hope I chance upon them or something similar this year. And I sincerely hope, that at the end of it, I no longer have to wait any longer to be with mi amor.