Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Life of the Working Girl

Here are signs that point to the life of a working girl (well, this working girl, anyways):

1. Obsessive (as my roommate Erin calls it) ironing of the next day's workshirt. Thank you Grandma for your lesson on how to iron a shirt.

2. Making lunch the night before as if I were in fourth grade again.

3. Complaining of sore feet yet still attempting to wear heels to work the next day.

4. Flashing a new Denver Univ. id with its metallic year-long bus pass sticker at the bus driver.

5. Getting up consistently at a time I haven't gotten up at since I did the paper route as a kid. (Actually, it's not that bad, I get up at 5:45 - but still.)

6. Seeing the sunrise shine through the capitol building in downtown Denver on my way to catch the light rail.

7. Riding the light rail - ahhhh.

8. Sporting a new chic watch - oh so stylish and helpful in catching one's bus on time.

9. Getting incredibly sleepy at 9:37 at night.

10. Reciting, "Good Afternoon/Morning, Office of Internationalization" over and over again until I'm sure I'm saying it in my sleep. (You try saying "internationalization" without slurring it or wanting to laugh at the end.)

11. Finally understanding why Wednesday is called "hump day" - thank goodness - the weekend is nigh!

Oop - better go make my lunch and head to bed.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Another Edgar in my life: And on talking to myself

So, I thought I had left all significant Edgars behind in Louisville. But apparently, it is not so. This last Saturday I was trying to make cookies for a friend and got home from the store only to find out that I still needed eggs and we were out. Now, although there are two grocery stores close by, I did not have time to walk back to one for eggs. So after stomping around the house for a bit, I realized that I should do the "old fashioned" thing of asking the neighbors. And that is how I met Edgar. Now, I did not even know our next door neighbors had a dog. But as Jeremy introduced me to his wife, Lois, and two young daughters, Abigail and Julia, he also was compelled to introduce me to the curious golden retriever galloping around the room with the fitting name of Edgar. And then Jeremy joked that I was welcome to walk Edgar any time I liked and was a little taken back by how excited I got. I mean, I had been telling the girls that I had to meet the neighbors so I could offer to walk their dogs and here was a neighbor who I didn't even know had a dog offering to let me do just that. Needless to say, Edgar and I went for a walk today. It was great - I'm able to walk around the neighborhood being nosy without feeling strange - in our neighborhood, at least, we see a lot of people walking around but always with a dog. So now I've joined their ranks - yes! Real Denverite-ion, here I come!

Edgar also kind of solves and increases a recent problem I've been having lately. Now, for those of you who have ever spent a substantial amount of time with me, you know that I have a weird habit of making strange noises randomly and occasionally (as some people say) talking to myself (I still assert that I'm talking in general, to whoever may be listening - so what if no one is technically in earshot...). Anyways, this past week, I've been learning my way around Denver as a result of a few interviews (read: I've been spending hours on public transportation) and I've realized that I have a disturbing tendency to talk to myself. Not talking in general. But actually talking to myself. Out loud. At the bus stop, on the way to the bus stop, as the bus pulls up. Luckily, I can stop myself once I'm in the direct presence of others. But motorists passing by can definitely see my mouth moving while I'm so obviously sitting by myself. And I can't help it - it just kind of helps to think things out, well, out loud. Once, I saw a guy doing the same thing as the bus pulled up. But then I noticed that once he got on the bus he didn't stop - he didn't try to do the whole "I'm a cool bus rider person who tries not to make eye connect much less talk to people who I didn't get on the bus with." And I couldn't blame him. Sometimes it is boring just sitting there thinking.

So back to Edgar. I realized that it is almost socially okay to talk to your dog. So I can talk to Edgar while we walk without feeling totally weird. And Edgar does this great thing where he looks back at me, all wonderingly, and then he slows down, like, "She talking to me. I better try to listen to what she's saying." Either that or he's used to having to slow down when the person with the leash starts talking for whatever reason. But it isn't totally okay to be rambling on and on to your dog although Edgar seems to invite speech. So.

And for those of you who actually read all of this - I will post some relevant news about my new life in Denver - I have an exciting job possibility - but need to save it until it actually becomes reality.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Still Alive...

and thriving - I guess. I'm in Denver now finally after a couple weeks of transition. Jobless but not homeless (not yet, that is) so that's good. Our neighborhood is awesome. And we have a hot tub. And I have the hugest room I've ever occupied. Come visit - there's room on my floor for at least twenty visitors (well, kind of packed in).