welcome, March!

I think it's cra-cra-cra crazy that March is here. Three months into the new year already -- awesome. Not that I'm anymore excited for another year to go by (growing old sucks) but it brings me closer to achieving that next step -- whatever or wherever it may be.

Plus it also means that the winter blues are coming to an end, thank goodness. I don't ever remember disliking the winter so much before I became acquainted with the frigid and gray winters of Chicago. However, since those days I can't seem to shake off the slump that inevitably comes with winter. Is it the weather? The unending need for sweaters? Or the lack of TV I've had for the past five winters?

Speaking of high school (sort-of), I've had two odd throwbacks to the days of my immediate pre-collegiate years. Today I ran into a kid who graduated a year after me and was pretty cool. He's working at the mall and going to school, and he's gotten taller. Still skinny as hell though, and still super-quiet.

The other thing that got me thinking about high school, however, was an event I covered Saturday.

Now, I've never been one to miss high school. It came and it went, uneventfully. Few things about that period in my life stick out. I can recall spending lots of hours working on the newspaper, running on the cross country team, and the smell of dew on a chilly early spring afternoon on the soccer field. I also kind of remember graduating and some classes.

In any case, I never really had a great time. Didn't really have a lot of friends, didn't really do anything outside of my schoolwork and the extracurriculars. No crazy sex parties, no craziness period. I can't even remember really having a crush on anyone the last few years, mostly because I was always afraid of the popular kids and wasn't into the weird ones. I always figured it was because of the small size of my high school that I never got into anyone.

OK, but the point I'm trying to make is that I never liked high school and I was really glad to get out of it, and I've never looked back and wished to do it over again, as I have other things in life (namely, college). But in covering this science-bowl thing on Saturday, I saw a group of high school students and I envied them, and for the first time I can remember, I wished I could go back to high school too. Not my high school, though, but theirs. The entire experience made me think about how sheltered I've really been for much of my life, and how I continue living in this strange bubble. These nerdy kids have all sorts of opportunities, not only to do well in school and travel to different places but also to meet different kinds of people and have loads of experiences that I've just recognized exist.

This post doesn't make any sense and I'm fine with it. I guess I just don't know what I'm trying to say.

my blog about needing a (real) blog

It's no fun to write a blog when the only person reading it is one friend. Why don't I just send Dani a blog-style e-mail instead?

I've randomly gotten sidetracked on the internet (don't know how it's possible, since there's oh-so-little to see and do online) and found that some people have some really interesting blogs going on. From writing about free gym trials in Manhattan to trying to find a real job in the music biz and even discovering yourself in small Indian villages, it makes my lame little blog, well...lame.

And I'm not nearly cool enough to have lots of people want to read a blog about my life. So I am going to stop this nonsense, find something to blog about, then proceed. Now, to find some topic that needs to be written about and fill that hole!

My missed deadline

No, it wasn't at work, actually. It was for the Teach for America application I had been musing about in my head.

Do I want to be a teacher? Maybe in the near future. But the week ended up redeeming the frustration I often feel at my job enough for me to choose dinner and a movie with an old friend over writing 500 words about why I want to join the teaching corps. I guess this means I'm stuck at the paper for another year. Or at least I can try to meet that 12-month mark.

The grass is always greener on the other side

I'm beginning to think that I need a serious attitude adjustment.

I can't be happy, regardless of where I am. The last three places where I've lived, it seems like I keep telling myself that I'd rather be somewhere else because I'm unhappy in the current situation.

Yet again, I find myself unhappy with where I am, and I'm starting to notice a pattern that startles me. I thought I had the dream job, and I thought the location was a dream one too (close enough that I can visit my folks whenever I wanted to but not so close that I have to still live at home).

But now I find myself wishing for yet another change, and hoping for something else, somewhere else. It's left me wondering: Is my situation really bad, or am I just hating it again, much like I have hundreds of other situations before this one?

At NU, I went on and on and on about how much I disliked it there and how I couldn't wait to get out. I moved to Madrid and after a month, started bitching about how much I hated it there and how I couldn't wait to get back home and get a job as a reporter.

Now, I've got the reporting job at home I wanted, and suddenly I want to abandon ship and get a job somewhere else doing something else? Why can't I be happy? Why does everything always look better in retrospect? And when will I know if I should really change my situation because it's legitimately bad instead of me just being a pansy and wanting out?

Is this part of growing up, or is this something that will follow me throughout life?

meant to be unhappy for the rest of my life, mostly because I can never seem to

selling papers

I have heard many odd comments and many interesting things, but perhaps none as curious as one I heard today.

In talking about some rather negative stories I've written recently, someone asked me why the paper was publishing these "awful" stories about people. And then the person asked me if it was because we were "trying to sell more papers."

1. This scandal is not like Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinski, people. It's a cover-up at the district level.

2. We've actually LOST subscribers because of the stories, not gained any.

3. It's education. Who is going to buy a paper because the district superintendent is on the cover?

But I digress. I shall continue to hold my head up high and take those daggers-of-death shooting out of people's eyes. You may not like what I'm writing, but I'm writing it anyway (if its worthwhile).

Poppin' my way through the new year

I've signed up for a hip hop dance class for the winter/spring. While I'm super-excited for this class, there are two minor problems:

1. I feel like a fat cow compared to the other 6 women in my class, and given that I'm not all that thick, it's quite depressing and distracting.

2. The ladies all crack jokes about "white girl" dancing and "ghetto booties." You aren't from the ghetto (the nearest one to Fort Collins is at least 60 miles away) and no one thinks its any funnier when throw race into it. So don't.

Fighting boredom elsewhere

After nearly two weeks of working for a day and having the following three off, I am finally ready to settle back into the working schedule. This time, the lack of holiday stories looming over my head will certainly make me much more efficient at my job.

Plus, I am hoping that finally having a working sense of what is expected of me will mean that I will feel less stressed (which I've already been doing since November, with the exception of December). And less stress means I might enjoy life more.

In spite of the impending winter and the usual blues it brings, I am being cautiously optimistic about what might be in store for me. I'm thinking that I will push past these growing pains of becoming an adult and just throw myself into it headfirst. Regardless of the jump, you're bound to land somewhere.

In less depressing news, a conversation with Andi today has led me to believe that I am somehow still emo. I wonder if that's something I can help or not.

Random note: Yesterday I tried to take a run on the treadmill at work. After 2.25 miles and 25 minutes, I felt like I was about to collapse. I couldn't figure out what had happened -- I know I'm not particularly fit but I was capable of keeping a pace for at least 40 minutes when I last jogged in Madrid.

Then it hit me -- I'm back to fighting the altitude. Getting back into running is going to be killer for me, but it gives me something to fight for. Plus, that should alleviate some of the boredom I often feel. If the gym at work is open until midnight, then by george I will be there.

Again, in another unrelated note, I am sitting at a coffee shop in Old Town (downtown Fort Collins) just chillin'. But there's this interview going on in the table directly across from me that has captivated me. The interviewee is a young boy, seemingly teen-aged, and possibly Latino. He looks nervous and a little nerdy. Flanking him on each side are a man and woman, probably between 25 and 30. The boy is wearing jeans and a thick, brown sweater-jacket. The two interviewers are dressed in black and white business attire -- dark slacks, white collared shirts, blazers. I can't figure out what the point of this interview is. College entrance? An odd job interview?? A survey??? The music and general buzz in the shop is too loud to really allow me to eavesdrop, one of my favorite hobbies. So the snippets I do catch are even more awkward than they seemingly would be anyway.

"Why would someone pay for a membership at Sam's Club?"

"It's about the value, right?"

"The checkmarks I'm seeing total up to 60 percent" and something about "a corporation."

Fcuk -- I can't focus because I am so annoyed at the fact that I don't know what these people are talking about. Thus making this the most useless post I've ever written.