March 2009 Archives

She perches awkwardly on the hard wooden bench reserved for people waiting for to-go orders, clutching the little plaque with her order number on it. Her heavy winter coat is too hot for the café, crowded as it is during the lunchtime rush, but after a glance at the chilly grey sky through the window, she decides to leave it on for now. "It can't take them that long to get my order ready." she thought. "It's only soup and a roll."

The guy who ordered after her is also getting takeout. She moves her oversized purse from the bench to her lap and scoots over so he can sit down too. He gives her a little smile and folds himself into the space she's made for him, making sure he's displaying his numbered card so the staff doesn't miss him when his food is ready. "Why do we all do that?" the girl thinks to herself. "Everyone is so anxious about them not seeing the card, but they yell out the numbers if it is a takeout order. It's not like they'll refuse to give you your food."

An older woman drifts up to the counter, studying the menu board intently while she toys with a key with the Audi logo on it. Her hair is sleek and perfectly highlighted, her winter coat fur and full-length. "That's overkill for a suburban bakery-café at lunch time." thinks the girl on the bench. The woman answers the cashier's questions vaguely at first. "I would like the broccoli and cheese soup." she says, but isn't sure if she wants a cup or a bowl. No, wait, she'd like the soup and salad combo - what size is that? The choice of rolls available with the soup throws her momentarily, but then she picks whole grain, and they are off to the races as she confidently makes her salad dressing choice. Balsamic vinaigrette. The girl on the bench is not surprised. Her order properly sorted, the woman heads off in search of a table, the obligatory order number card in hand.

She's followed at the counter by a harried looking dad with a sleeping boy in a double stroller. From the bench, the girl guesses he's about 18 months old. Wandering behind them on foot is a three year old girl, chirping brightly as she provides a running commentary. "Look, Papa, that lady has a red coat. I have a red coat! This is the place that has the yummy cookies. I get grilled cheese here sometimes. Papa. Hey Papa, I want grilled cheese for lunch." He shushes her gently and orders a grilled cheese sandwich for her and a French dip sandwich for himself. Then he picks her up so she can see the cookies in the bakery case. "I'd like a cookie with M&M's please." she says to the cashier, who smiles and steps over to get it for her. "Here you go, miss." he says, handing her a cookie wrapped in bakery tissue. "Thank you!" she replies, flashing a killer little girl smile, all dimples and sweetness. Her father sets her down and reaches into his pocket for his wallet.

A tall woman appears at the end of the counter. "Number 94?" she calls out in what sounds like a Jamaican accent. The girl on the bench jumps up, waving her numbered card, and hurries over to claim her soup and roll.

Not literally, of course. My legendary clumsiness continues unabated. While putting new sheets on the bed last night after doing laundry, I somehow snagged my left foot in my right sock, flailed around awkwardly, managed to free my foot, and then slammed my left big toe into the bed frame, ruining a pedicure that had been holding up nicely. It takes a true talent to injure yourself while making the bed.

But figuratively I'd say I'm making progress. My usual happy self is out there somewhere, and I'll fumble, trip and stumble towards her. The key is to keep pushing forward.

Yesterday I was emailing with my favorite freelance copywriter, who was telling me all about this new town he's moving to in June. I was curious to see where it was exactly, so I looked it up on Google Maps. Then I got distracted by the map and just started clicking around looking at other places. I find maps irresistible for some reason. As I zoomed out, I noticed that Forks, Washington is called out on the map, a little dot in the middle of not very much else.

I thought to myself, I wonder if it has always been that way and that's how Stephenie Meyer picked the town in the first place, or if it is highlighted because so many Twilight fans have searched for it. And then I took a closer look at the map and realized that I've probably been to Forks.

A few years ago my mom and my brother and I took a trip to Seattle, up to Vancouver, over to Victoria on Vancouver Island, and then down to the Olympic Peninsula before heading back to Seattle. According to the map, when we drove from Port Angeles to the Hoh Rain Forest - which is a very, very cool park to visit by the way - we must have driven through Forks.

Obviously, it didn't make too big an impression at the time. I was probably arguing with my mom about whether or not I was driving too fast or something. Family wrangling aside, I thought the places we visited on the Olympic Peninsula were some of the most beautiful spots I've ever been. It's so green and lush and the mountains are incredible. I know everyone says I'd have trouble with all the rain if I lived there, but I love that area of the country.

Forks shouldn't take my lack of memory personally. Apparently I'm getting old and senile. I was telling John about how my boss and I are going to go see Jane's Addiction and Nine Inch Nails and mentioned that while I know I've seen Jane's live before, I can't remember if I've seen NIN or not. He pointed out that not only have I seen them, but that they were on the same bill as Jane's Addiction at one of the Lollapaloozas. And as we have discussed previously, he and I were both there, but we didn't know each other yet. Which led me to realize that show was 16 or 17 years ago, and wah, Jesus Christ I'm getting old. But hey, I once briefly passed through a town that is very important to teenage girls, so all is not lost.

After that last post my brother called to check on me, because he is a good brother. Also, he wanted the set the record straight - it was only 10 pounds that he lost in two weeks. Oh, and he said if things get particularly bad, I should give hookers and coke a try. Or maybe it was coke, then hookers. Either way, I have a Plan B now.

I also spent a large chunk of my weekend on me. I did not do any laundry. I barely ran any errands. I didn't clean anything except some dishes and pots and pans. Mostly, I lolled around on the couch making a substantial dent in the Sookie Stackhouse box set that my boss gave me for my birthday. Those are the books the HBO series True Blood is based on, and they are a lot of fun. Sookie is a plucky heroine, and she lives in a world that is populated with very interesting people, including but not limited to vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, fairies and religious zealots. Sometimes she needs rescuing, but most of the time, Sookie charges in and takes care of business her way. I like that in a lead character. There's always a mystery to be solved, and usually some romance too. Sometimes bad things happen, and Charlaine Harris is not afraid to kill off a character if it is necessary, but in the end the bad guys generally get what is coming to them, and the good guys usually triumph. Very satisfying.

While I was watching the show, I was never fully able to get on board with Bill, the vampire who becomes Sookie's boyfriend, and now that I've read some of the books, I think I've developed a wee crush on the vampire Eric instead. Inasmuch as you can have a crush on someone who does not exist. Due to the fact that I'm a suspicious Yankee type, "Southern Gentleman" has always felt just a little bit phony to me - with the exception of Orry Main from North and South, who I thought was just dashing and gallant and dreamy in my early teens. Eric, on the other hand is sarcastic and obnoxious and has a wicked sense of humor, but also a sense of honor. Right up my alley. It probably doesn't hurt that thanks to the TV show, he looks like Alexander Skarsgard in my mind.

Anyway, thanks to my vacation in Sookie's world, I started the week feeling more optimistic and relaxed than I have been lately. If you're looking for some books that are lighthearted, well written, entertaining and a pretty quick read, I highly recommend them.

I guess I haven't written in a while. I just haven't had anything to say about anything. If you looked up apathetic and unenthusiastic in the dictionary, my photo would have been right there, with a glum expression on my face.

On Monday, I finally admitted to myself that I've been exhibiting some classic signs of depression - negativity (did you know that I'm a stupid, fat, worthless infertile diabetic with bad hair who can't do anything right?), inability to focus, lack of organization, weight gain (four pounds. When my brother gets depressed, he can lose 15 pounds in two weeks. We have the same genes, dammit.), irritability, near constant exhaustion, and an overwhelming desire to never get out of bed again. I got up every day and went about my business, but it was a struggle every single morning.

Now, I've been here before, and I know what to do, so once the light bulb went off and I heard that little ding! noise that accompanies the light bulb, I realized I needed a plan. The only way to get back on track is to take control and make changes. So I made a list. And then I cleaned up my desk at work. And then I made another list. And then I made myself go to the gym. I cannot recommend exercise enough for anyone who is teetering on the edge of depression.

Then Wednesday rolled around, and the universe smacked me on the side of the head and told me to be grateful for all that is good in my life. My company had layoffs round 2. I was NOT laid off. Back when we had the first round of layoffs in November, I was sure that there would be a second round, that it would come in March, and that I would be included in it. Luckily, I was wrong about that third bit. Interestingly, even though I spent the last few months convinced I was going to lose my job in March, recently I had decided that I had been wrong and there would be no more layoffs. I was shocked on Wednesday. Totally taken by surprise.

I'm in the midst of a transition from one team to another, and my old team was hit particularly hard. Of course, I'm sad for all of the people who lost their jobs, not just the ones I worked with directly. It's terrible anytime someone gets laid off, but particularly now. The unemployment situation isn't as bad in the DC area, but everyone knows this is a difficult time to be looking for work. They were all good people, and I hope they find new jobs quickly.

As for the depression, I know it won't go away just because I want it to. At the same time, now that I've noticed the pattern I was falling into, I can work to change it. And you know, at least I'm still employed. Because I could have ended up with something to get really depressed about.

It was supposed to snow here today. It was supposed to snow during the day and I was going to stay home and do stuff around the house, snug as a bug in a rug. Then, when tomorrow morning came, the snow was going to be all cleared up so I could head into work with no trouble.

Instead, chief meteorologist Bob Ryan has let me down, once again. It hardly snowed at all during the day today, and now they say all the snow is coming tonight instead. That means the drive into work tomorrow is going to be a huge hassle. We won't get enough snow for them to close the office or for me to justify staying home, so I'll have to get up, dig out the car, clear off the snow, and deal with all the DC morons freaking out about the snow and forgetting how to drive. Unless the county plows in our access to the main road again and I get stuck here, waiting for the HOA to show up and plow our street. Last time they didn't show up until 5:54 p.m. Why doesn't the county plow my street, you ask? I have no idea. They sail right by though, building up piles of snow my little Honda can't clear.

Snow is so much more fun when you're a kid.