in defense of the Corporation~

I spotted Petore and Karenina today in the cafe, whilst trying to isolate myself for studying in a place that does not smell vaguely of feet. -coughlibrarycough-

They live but allude to "the accident." Stay tuned to see what this mysterious accident is... and if they will order a scone! wound healing requires higher caloric intake, after all.

I am off to go take advantage of the sunshine and go for a proper run. Gotta look good for my lady-date tonight.

a small case of the sads.

It didn't occur to me until about two in the afternoon that our "favorite" morning personalities had not been present yesterday. Both Petore and Karenina had missed their daily word vomit sessions with the cafe staff. Which made Scar's words seem all the more foreboding: "Our club is losing its members one by one!" At the time, I dismissed it as one of those weird non sequiturs he employs as what he thinks are brilliant conversation starters with me and replied with a half-hearted, "yeah."

BUT HE WAS RIGHT. Even the guy who comes in and asks if we have any coffee left as early as three minutes after opening our gates did not show his face yesterday.

Have Karenina and Petore expired? Is the Corporation behind this? they have been adamant about increasing the average dollar amount of each transaction... how far have they gone to meet this end?!

dun dun duuuuuuhn!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just kidding. Now to real news. Today, I turned in my Intent To Graduate Form. In order for the Registration Office to accept it, I needed my advisor's signature. I love her to death, but she is a tough woman to reach. So I staked out her office and slunk through a sea of first years to get her signature while the line of people waiting to see her snaked around the corner and down the hall.

as they say, NEENER NEENER NEENER.

as we typically do, we began to talk about futures. she knows an associate degree is not my end goal, by any means, and is dedicated to helping me find an appropriate challenge. as such, she often throws out ideas that are totally absurd. last time, it was all, move to the South. The fat Republicans need you! today it was, if you want a job in acute care, move to Hartford, Connecticut -- like, yesterday. actually, regardless of what you want to do, GOOOO THEREEEEE.

an oddly specific prodding, to be sure. in fairness, three of our school's graduates landed a job in acute care in hospitals in Connecticut last year within a month of passing NCLEX. and it is one of those states where Massachusetts licensure is valid and welcome without months of additional testing. and allegedly, the training programs and internship learning are phenomenal there. I laughed along and said, "well, sure, but then I'd have to live there. and worse, drive there." But nooo, this wasn't a good enough answer. She says with the money I'd make and the cost of living savings, I could pay someone to drive for me. yeah, not happening.

ha - ha.

still, she insists that this is the place for me, what with a UConn satellite school in the city and so close to what I identify as home...

Iamnottellingyouwhatisreallythemattersoletitgo,woman!

thankfully, another faculty member came to my rescue with her urgent need to talk to my advisor about a meeting with a neurological oncologist. saved by the neurological oncologist. say that five times fast.

welp, as the great and philosophical Thomas said to me rather recently, "Keep your chin up. Don't settle. Good things come to those of us that have to wait."

mmmmmmmmmmm. there's a story there, too. another time, perhaps.

intent to graduate strut causes collision and other Caitlyn Problyms.

For three days, I have had adequate amounts of uninterrupted sleep and woke up far from refreshed. Instead of reaching a reasonable conclusion of any kind, I began to suspect that I was harboring a Tyra Durden of sorts. GET IT? 'cause I'm a girl. and also, I have nice arms. Then last night, I began a new uterine cycle.

of course!

my fuse was short and my attention span, shorter. but let me tell you, I felt like the air was made of syrup I was moving so slowly. that is, until I signed up for my final three lab slots and picked up my "Intent to Graduate" form. with these [minor] accomplishments complete, I had a certain runway element to my walk. and instead of looking at the hall unfolding in front of me, I was reading the verbiage over and over.

and blop! I straight up collided with someone in the hallway -- which, in retrospect, was damn near abandoned. I look up and meet eyes with Valet Man Man Man Man Man. His eyebrows furrowed, and he wordlessly pointed to his head in what must have been a reference to the rather drastic haircut I got since last I saw him. I, however, did not stick around to find out. I may or may not have actually verbalized my apology before breaking into a run and booking it out of there. nooooo thaaaanks.

this encounter comes on the heels of my last date disaster, masterfully summed up by the beautiful Norma, "CAITLYN, you could be chopped up into little pieces, sitting in a freezer right now. Have you tried Match?"

begin scene the night before, at which point boy asks girl to go ice skating in Plymouth. girl, knowing nothing about Plymouth but where to find the plantation and the Mayflower, agrees on the condition that boy directs her. boy replies with an address.

girl wakes up late, googlemap's said address, and runs out the door. girl arrives, not at an ice skating rink, but at a residence five minutes before agreed upon rendezvous time. instead of turning around, like her stomach intimated to her that she should do, girl rings doorbell. boy answers door in pajamas. at noon. boy invites girl inside, and instead of leaving LIKE A REASONABLE GIRL, girl follows boy inside. boy blames girl for his lack of preparedness and sets up Netflix for girl while boy showers and blows his hair dry.

boy was an excellent skater. girl was not. girl had absolutely no patience for the purposefully disjointed conversation, composed mainly of mammal excrement. girl pushed up the meeting time for a wake two hours in order to make a speedy escape. boy asked girl when the two would see each other again. girl, despite having a terrible aversion to disappointing others on purpose, was able to say never.

so in essence, I am going directly to hell. I am not passing go. I am not collecting two hundred dollars. but I am not chopped up in little pieces in a freezer somewhere. so there's that.

Life

Is weird and beautiful and tragic and hysterical and way too short.
Tell someone you love them today.
Better yet, show them.

lest we forget... and how I wish we could.

[names have been changed... and not in a particularly original or identity-protecting manner, but they're changed, so shhh]

Waiting at the mall-bookstore threshold each morn stand a sorry band of elderly misfits, all of whom congregate in the far corners of café and cause mischief of all sorts for hours, despite making purchases the sum of which often don't break the ten dollar mark.

Let's call the lead-miscreant Karenina. She remembers details like the exact date the bookstore moved from a strip mall across the street to its current location but forgets little things like wearing undergarments and what day it is. She has been a faithful pain in the rear end for seventeen years and tells anyone who will listen this news each day. She orders the same thing every day, and gods save your soul if you don't know what it is: a small coffee. TOTES ORIGINAL, MAN.

A newb who either honestly has no idea what Karenina's "usual" is or is under the mistaken impression that acting like she doesn't will result in less conversation, asked Karenina the other day what she would like. Karenina scoffed at the newb's lack of knowledge and implored the person behind her in line to join her in taunting the newb. Like a pro, the newb said, "well,  if you don't quit making fun of me, I can't get you what you want."

Karenina cautiously answered, "small coffee, room for milk."

"house or dark roast?" Karenina blanked. All color left her face. She turned to me, eyes aglaze, and asked, "Caitlyn, what do I get?" After I recovered from the shock of Karenina calling me by my actual name, I could not help but reply, "YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR ORDER? KARENINA!" and descend into a fit of giggles.
I caught my breath and informed the newb that she likes light roast and a side of ice.

The next day was my fourth of five consecutive cafe opening shifts, each more bizarre and less busy than the last. Karenina arrived a few minutes late and avoided eye contact with me. oh, no. I couldn't let it go. The usual was waiting for her, but I shared with my coworker that yesterday, "this one forgot her own usual! always givin us guff for not knowing the order when someone's a little rusty herself, hmm?"

"You know what ladieth? When you get to be my age, you forget stuff." a trim woman wearing workout clothes walked up to the counter and unsuspectedly into Karenina's argument. "Ithn't that right, mith? [nudges her for emotional support against the whippersnappers] I turn seventy in three months. I feel every minute of it. Thankth." She lifted the cup in the air in thanks and retreated to the milk bar. The next woman in line's eyes were opened to an alarming width.

"You and your eyeballs have no idea."
"No, you don't get it... I just turned seventy a few weeks ago." My associate and I eyeballed this woman in a skeptical manner. She was in possession of all of her teeth, mental faculties, and publicly appropriate undergarments. Not only that, but she was fit. And her hair was stylish. I didn't buy it. My face betrayed my thoughts. "Thank you, but I'm serious. I'm seventy. And I would love a double tall nonfat cappuccino."
"As you wish!" -- the woman later revealed that she was "off to do a little exercise" by walking the mall, which made her claim slightly more believable than before. The shock and awe, friends. shock and awe.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

And who could forget the time Karenina and the crew were late to the gate? A skinny twenty-something who works at Forever 21 ordered himself a quad venti iced caramel macchiato and set up shop with a text book, notebook, and laptop over at The No-Breakfast Club's typical table. Karenina was the first to arrive but not the first to order coffee. Karenina's even less bright compatriot of the same name, Kerynina, bumbled through her tall decaf order and lost her daily battle of wits with the credit card machine. Kerynina could not fathom what had taken Karenina so long to hop in line for hers, so she joined Karenina in gawping at the oblivious boy with earbuds in, typing furiously.
A full five minutes elapsed before the boy finally acknowledged the women's presence and asked if he could help them. Karenina bleated, "WE SIT THERE."
"... I... okay? well, I need the space for homework." He reinserted the earbuds and immersed himself in whatever he was doing. The Kareninas stood, defeated, mouths agape for several more minutes until their "knight in stretchy waistband jeans hiked up far too high" proclaimed that they shall sit at the other large table until the offending individual left. Probably before he swiped a macaroon or seven. The other members of the No-Breakfast Club followed suit and positioned their chairs in such a way that all of them could touch the table if necessary but still shoot eye-daggers at the boy, who I still wonder to this day if he had any idea of just how much mind-hate was slung his way.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The youngest and newest inductee into the No-Breakfast Club, Scar, may also be the scummiest. He charms his way into free coffees almost every morning, all the while looking like the human impersonation of Pig Pen all grown up. His boots leave dust on the floor behind him every day, and I swear I can see an aura of brown surrounding him when he sits. Worst of all, he goads the Kareninas into having hugely inappropriate conversations, resulting in mental pictures that make me want to gouge out my mind's eye and quotes to make even the steeliest resolve crumble and cringe.

The best occasion on record [for which, I was apparently present but somehow missed] was the day Karenina and Scar engage in their weird flirtation in line, so Karenina entirely forgot her cream. Karenina returned to the milk bar just in time to intercept Gandalf, slimy lord of the mall realms -- a most deserving victim to what was to come. Karenina elbowed him playfully and said, "Arrest me. I'm a naughty, naughty girl." Gandalf power-walked out of café, leaving his beverage behind.
Scar laughed uproariously AND SWIPED HIS TEA. dark days, dark days.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A casual No-Breakfast Club member [so casual I do not know her name] ordered a mundane prepared beverage, probably a caramel macchiato. probably skinny.
She sat with the the other members for a while before they trickled out. Only after everyone else left did she realize that she had dribbled coffee all down the front of her. She sat bewildered and alone, so she switched tables. Right, because it's all the gravitational pull of that table's fault. Finally, she returns to the pick up counter and asks for a new lid because, quote, "I can't be that bad with my mouth, can I?"

you chose the worst possible audience for that question, love.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Boston Clam Chowder and the Masked Man~

Not four days ago, a painfully slow morning yielded odd customers, as they often do. But no one could have anticipated the weirdness of the Masked Man. maybe. I'm not gonna be judgy. Maybe it was an unfortunately shaped/voiced Masked Woman. This individual was covered from face to toe: Timberlands, light wash jeans, red plaid jacket, black pleather gloves, black ski mask, sunglasses right out of the Matrix, and a skully cap. In what can only be described as skulking, The Masked (Wo?)Man weaved his way through magazines, pausing to snap a picture of the occasional magazine. At first, my associate and I gave the customer the benefit of the doubt -- it was a chilly-ass day. Maybe he didn't want nose frostbite. But as time went on and his face remained obscured and the skulking continued, it became less and less acceptable.

My associate said, "I am gonna be SO mad if he shoots up the place when this wasn't even my shift." The words lingered with both of us. We held hands and began to plan our best route of escape. Still holding hands, we tiptoed to the phone to call the manager on duty. The line was otherwise engaged, so I hung up and called back till I got visual confirmation of her presence. She made a bee-line for the cash wrap line at which he had stationed himself and accosted him. We were too far away to hear the exchange, but it ended with the Masked Man storming off toward the escalators.

The MOD made her way over to the café, FINALLY. My associate and I grilled her for details. "Well, I told him that he needed to lose the mask because he was making my staff and my customer base very uncomfortable. Not to mention the insensitivity of coming in here dressed like that, given what has been going on malls in this country lately. So I told him he had the choice of complying with my wishes or leaving the store. He walked away, doing neither, so I called the police. I don't know where I found the strength to say all that. I think I was enraged over the Boston Clam Chowder, so I channeled that energy into protecting my staff. Okay, bye."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Otherwise homeless quotes:

"and when he says Mocha Almond syrup tastes like burned nuts, I think human balls cooked for too long. seriously, it's gross. Mocha and hazelnut here is way better."
"So they found a used condom on the benches in the kids' section this morning." "How does such a thing go unnoticed?" "Mmmm, probably the same way we missed someone defecating in front of the beverage case." "wasn't us. doesn't count."

it's that feeling...

you get when something mortifying happens that lingers with JUST you for days, but to the outside world is nearly immediately irrelevant.

the other day at work was exceptionally busy, followed by an hour and a half of shoveling a thin sheet of ice topped with powdery snow -- at the end of which time, my tailbone ate cement. the next day reached nearly sixty degrees for the high temperature, taking all of the offending snow and ice with it... and with those, my excuses for not running, excepting, of course, my bruised tailbone/ego.

but I did, however, play Just Dance 2, so yay! cardio?

and uh, go 49ers?
ughh, Superbowl XLVII, Hissy Fit v Temper Tantrum.
no amount of buffalo chicken dip can make such a thing not-insufferable.

P.S. establishments that give terrible directions on their website deserve no visitors.
P.P.S. "Plug-in vulnerable, download Adobe Plug-in update now?" I like surprises, moodle. I'm just reading my emails. don't have to download excrement.

pure. simple.

unmotivated.

so how to tackle my not-so-unique excuses?
I has no timezz ~ false. I sat and watched Battlestar Galactica for at least an hour, then promptly took an accidental nap... time which could have been better spent on fitness.
I'm bored, man ~ how hard would it have been to fire up the elliptical during BSG time? So not. And my increased heart rate would have been a little more acceptable.
My workout buddy went back to college ~ bastard! kidding, of course. I, too, have educational commitments, around which I will need to fashion my workout plan once more. time to crack out the giant whiteboard, y'all! another blog I browsed suggested I make use of social media to keep me honest in real time. sure, tell your friends about your pipe dreams, but keep 'em posted about the progress. ehh, tweet me?
Not seein' a difference here ~ seeing is believing, but seeing me cross a finish line of a race is sort of... a pipe dream. let's be honest. speaking of honesty, I need to be a little more honest about my workouts and a little more observant. I learned over Christmas just how big a difference diet can make in my energy level, mood, and digestive patterns... I can't decide if this is me, growing up and losing my iron stomach and hummingbird metabolic rate or acquisition of knowledge-based observation skills.
Same must be true of exercise. this is what I did, this is how I felt.coming soon. bwahahaha.
PS - didn't exercise today. so sometime.

resolutions

like good comebacks and Halloween costume ideas, always materialize a little late for me.
But better late than never when it comes to self-betterment, yes?
So this year, I strive to finish that which I begin.

books, running plans, applications, nursing school, that bottle of vitamins I bought, sentences... you name it!
I fully understand that this is a resolution easily broken, but absolute adherence isn't the key here. It is an exercise in mindfulness to see my efforts through to completion.

in the spirit of the notion - I am off to eat brunch, take a vitamin, and begin my week 2 Couch to 5K workout... and make a few phone calls.

>.> all in good time, pretties.

UPDATE:
"I'll bet before she recognized us, she thought, 'is that man wearing a scarf.'"

all I got were sweet grapes -- an exercise in gratefulness.

I may have skewed the results a bit by toasting the new year with a delightfully dry champagne and throwing out the obviously shriveled grapes, but I got all sweet ones. And though some would argue that luck is mammal excrement and it's all chaos anyways, I have come to believe that in life, you make your own luck. you make your own happiness. you make your own sadness. you make your own light and dark.

I loved. I lost. I conquered. I failed. I cried. I laughed. I ran. I adopted a cat!

 

Her name is Margaret.

[didn't realize how pissed she looked till after I posted the picture]

I read a couple books:

January~

1. The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss-- main character's a rambunctious, brainy redhead. what's not to love!

2. I am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced by Nujood Ali -- this book gave me goosebumps. an eye opening account of child brides, women's rights, and abusive partners. a must read.

3. The Gospel According to Larry by Janet Tashjian -- tired teen angst about consumerism and paparazzi culture.

February~ [nursingschoolatemylife]

March~

1. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot -- forewarning: it took me three tries to get into this book. but once I did, it was at once a biography of a selfless woman and her family and a layperson's bio research. it will challenge you, intrigue you, and creep you the HELL out.

2. Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling -- you'd think that like 100 pages wouldn't be hard to get through, especially for a Harry Potter fan. you would be wrong.

3. Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell -- another deadpan, informative hit! Sarah Vowell is a delight, bringing life and drama to the dates and words half-remembered from grade school.

4. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins -- because sometimes, I like to know what books pay my bills. the premise is crazy dark and most of the characters are insufferable cliches, but you know what? I'm always down to read about teens killing each other.

5. Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins -- did I say always? I mean, I want to kill everyone in this book. and that damn, whiny poor skank is still alive. ughhhhhhhh.

April~

1. Fluids and Electrolytes Made Incredibly Easy! -- written for a seventh grade student, not a nursing student. but you know what? those stupid cartoons stuck with me. so if you ever find yourself needing to memorize how a dearth of serum calcium manifests in the elder adult, this book is for you!

2. Shit My Dad Says by Justin Halpern -- this made for a fabulous audiobook. 

3. Seriously, I'm Kidding by Ellen Degeneres -- this didn't. it felt like a one-way conversation. perhaps the book-book version would be better?

May~

1. Billy Lynn's Long Halfway March by Ben Fountain -- 'twas advertised as a Catch-22 of the Iraq War, did not disappoint. it was a little raunchier than I remember Catch-22 being.

2. If I Stay by Gayle Foreman -- cute teeny bopper affair, about a devastating car accident and the power of loooove.

June~

1. Shades of Grey by Jasper Fforde -- have I mentioned how much I LOVE THIS MAN YET? if not, you should definitely read and adore his books. this is a little more approachable for non-literature dweebs, such as myself.

2. Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss -- I was less thrilled with book two than one, but still a gripping read.

3. Freakonomics: the Hidden Side of Everything by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner -- oh, my gosh, this book. read it.

4. Sway: the Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior by Ori and Ram Brafman -- a little redundant but totally relatable. you'll be diagnosing yourself in no time.

July~

1. The Fourth Bear by Jasper Fforde -- yes, I believe we're picking up on a theme, here. I love me some Jasper Fforde. the second of the series about nursery crimes. yes.

2. Monkey Mind by Daniel Smith -- this is several hours of my life I'm never getting back.

3. Gold by Chris Cleave -- perfectly timed to the summer Olympics, perfectly juicy story - full of Star Wars references. loved it.

4. Prisoner of Heaven by Carlos Ruiz Zafon -- this story knits together all of his previous tales with a web so involving, you want to re-read all of his other works to better understand this one.

5. Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid by Bill Bryson -- I'm not sure why I still read Bill Bryson, honestly. I feel like he missed his calling as a used car salesman and instead, writes in such a way about [in this case] his childhood. I cannot buy your childhood. I cannot go back in time to see the fifties. so, like. stahp.

6. Practical Demonkeeping by Christopher Moore -- like most of Christopher Moore's books, it didn't change my life, but I loved it!

August~

1. Yoga Sutras of Patanjali translated by M. Stiles -- interesting verse to focus thoughts during a yoga practice. not as quotable as I was expecting.

2. This is a Book by Demetri Martin -- I like him better as a standup than an author. but the chapters of drawings? genius!

3. Best American Non-Required Reading edited by Dave Eggers -- a fascinating cross-section of American authorship throughout the year. that being said, some portions are better than others.

4. Every Day by David Levithan -- it was actually embarrassing how much I liked this book. even worse, I read it before it came out, so I couldn't talk to anyone about it. and now, I cannot remember for the life of me why.

5. Incendiary by Chris Cleave -- I liked Gold so much, I immediately bought another of his titles. biggest. miss. ever.

September~

1. Let's Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess -- never before have I read a book and feared that I might pee myself from laughing so hard. well done, The Bloggess, well done.

Novermber~

1. The Woman Who Died a Lot by [you guessed it] Jasper Fforde -- I was displeased with the last Thursday Next book, but this one more than made up for it. As ever, lovely cliffhanger to make me hate that I'm all caught up.

December~

1. The Last Dragonslayer by Jasper Fforde -- Quark!

2. Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris -- this book makes me both happy and sad, full of Christmas cheer and hate.

I read 32 books this year, not bad -- considering.