Bummed

There are a lot of bums in Atlanta. I work right smack dab in the middle of downtown ATL which I would consider their state headquarters. Since working downtown (and riding MARTA to and from work) I usually get about three request a day from a bum asking for money. One bum in particular likes to pretend he has a missing leg to the tourist – as a regular pedestrian on his side walk I can say ‘pretend’ because the leg alters between his right and left.

When I first moved to the big city I didn’t have any preconceived prejudice against bums, I just didn’t know what to make of them. I would politely smile and say ‘no’ when they asked for change and gracefully step over them as they slept in front of my car door in my parking garage (when I use to drive to work). But as I started to really develop my career and put in 60-70 hours per week my sweet nature towards bums quickly changed. When I get a paycheck only to see a very large portion of that money going towards taxes it really pisses me off. I work incredibly hard for every penny I earn and I still worry about paying all of my bills and budgeting my expenses. So, I’m not too proud to admit this, but my sweet, southern ‘no’ to bums has (on more than one occasion) become ‘get a job.’

Well karma is a bitch.

Yesterday I was minding my own business walking down to the train to take home (because once again I’m trying to pitch pennies) when I paused for a cross walk. While I’m standing there, in my peripheral vision I see a bum coming up to me in his wheel chair. I continued to listen to my iPod and tried to remind myself it was better to ignore him than yell. So, when his first quiet attempts at saying ‘miss, miss’ to get my attention turned into abrupt yelling and waving his arm – I lost my cool. I turned harshly towards him ready to say “I have $1 in my wallet, $10 in my checking account and haven’t gone grocery shopping in two weeks and if you think just because I am walking from a job means that I have plenty of cash to just throw at you so you can just go buy some more liquor, you have another thing coming. Go get a job!!” Oh yeah, I was pissed.

But before I could even begin to yell he simply pointed to the sidewalk and said “excuse me.” There I was – standing on the wheel chair ramp at the cross walk, right in his way. I froze and turned three shades of red. I wanted to chase him and apologize properly – I wanted to cry. It was a bitch slap from God and it hurt. Though I don’t think I’ll be handing out dollars any time soon on my way to work, I’ve turned a new leaf in my prejudice. Homeless or gainfully employed, everyone deserves a little respect.

Who needs a title?

If I ever start a company - I'd strongly consider taking out titles for my employees. As in, no one would have a title... there would just be salary increases based on merit. I think titles are so restricting.


Apologies for my absense - my May summary includes London, moving, work & three graduations. I'll update soon.

Crazy Pills

I must be on them.

Today I signed up for a half marathon in San Francisco, California. It's through an organization called Team in Training and benefits the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. I'll be running in the Nike Women's Marathon (just saying that makes me sweat) on Oct. 19th, 2008.

Now, its no secret that I'm no athelete. I hate to sweat and I get nervous when my heart beats fast (seriously, I think its because my dad has heart problems but when my heart beats fast I get mild anxiety). I have played around with exercise but more out of thinking it was the right thing to do rather than actual interest in my health or getting in shape. I'm not overweight but I'm definitely no athelete. My best sport is golf for goodness sake! And pushing myself on the course consist of another beer and leaving my cart on the path instead of dropping myself off practcially on top of the ball.

I have no idea why I signed up to do this - I will probably die trying. But you know what? I'm actually really, really looking forward to it. I think it will be super healthy for me both mentally and physically. I'll have to push myself and it will get me out of my usual routine of drinking, working and dating (thank god-I needed an excuse to stop this dating crap). Yep, just me and the open road of Buckhead to occupy my thoughts for the next 171 days. I can feel myself getting in shape already -- or atleast buying new running shoes. How exciting!!!

Kelly mentioned that she wants all her friends and family to come out. First, I don't think anyone I know would actually believe that I'll follow through with this. And secondly, I don't want anyone there to watch me - I'll obviously be a nervous wreck so putting people there with high expectations of me to finish would just heighten my anxiety. So, you all get a free pass NOT to see me compete in a marathon. I'll take lots of pictures.

Butterflies

I hate dating. I avoid it at all cost and have tried desperately over the past few years to fall in love with several of my close guy friends instead. This tactic has ended badly in all attempts (as you can only imagine) and so I've recently recommitted to dating the old fashion way. Ugh-how mundane.

In my first attempt, I've started dating a hybrid of my old ways and new. I've known this boy for awhile through friends and our college days - an acquaintance, if you will. He's the nicest guy I've dated in a really long time. He's attentive, opens my car door, makes plans in advance, moves me out of my apartment (I mean, really, who volunteers for this?), calls regularly and is genuinely interested in my life. To be honest, its a stark comparison to the mediocrity I've let my dating world become. I really shouldn't be surprised when someone is eager to see me and willing to drive across town to do so - how have I forgotten that?

Here's the thing that's just killing me about this situation - he's just missing something. Or, more accurately, I'm missing something. You know, the butterflies. I'm hoping that my stomach has just forgotten this much needed response and those sleepy little boogers are waking up and any date now will come alive. Sadly, I think the reality of the situation is my heart is somewhere else, with someone else. Someone that doesn't open doors, would never consider driving to my side of town but knows exactly how to make me laugh and can read my thoughts like a book (which in itself is totally annoying and devilishly sexy).

I've decided though I have to continue on this path of dating the old way. I'm determined to find those stupid butterflies again and forget all about the boy that has captured mine and is holding them hostage. Maybe I can just hope for moths at this point?

Maturity? Whaaaa?

Saturday nights are routinely a highlight of my weekend. Since I graduated, got a job and began this game of growing up I take my weekends pretty seriously. I have exactly 48 hours to relive my college days of bar hopping and making some very silly memories. When my lovelies and I first got to the big ATL I truly believe we lived freshmen year all over, eagerly trying to drink our weight in alcohol just to prove to ourselves that a full time job and salary had not taken away our ability to party.

Now that I’m maturing (ha) those crazy nights have calmed a bit. This past weekend I wondered into Buckhead bars cold stone sober and boy is that always an experience. On this particular occasion, I spent the large majority of the night people watching. A girl in a tight black dress – which, speaking from experience, was probably really hot when she soberly got ready five hours before - now was misplaced on her body as she ever-so-sexily danced in a courtyard which she deemed the dance floor. (Later I saw her attempting to give a lap dance on the fountain – it wasn’t pretty).

My favorite part were the pick up lines being handed out to me and my lovely. I can’t believe girls actually fall for that kind of stuff (I’m guilty myself so this is more a shame-on-me comment). This further validated the fact that though bars are a great weekend activity, I hope to never fall in love with anyone I meet there.

OMG

I can't say anything more. I've been sworn to secrecy. But OMG.

Planes, Trains and well... Planes again.

I've been traveling quite a bit for work over the past few months - New York, Minneapolis, St. Louis, Philadelphia, London (SQUEAL!) in May - and there are several things I've picked up on as a 'business' traveler as opposed to those 'other' people.

I have gotten traveling down to the science. The right shoes, bags packed, reading material, work material -- all packed in order of when I'll need it as I arrive and go through the check-in process.

Tangent: On my first business trip I traveled with a very powerful woman in my company that is both feared and awed because of her ability to close any deal with any client (I now work with her daily and still look at her in awe but none of the fear - she'd laugh if she ever knew I feared her). We were jetting off to NYC for the launch for a very big client product and would be gone for a week and a half. I spent the entire night before planning each outfit perfectly so I could be 'so New York' (um... black anyone?). Well, I got so carried away that I ended up having to check the bag (confession: I even paid the $25 extra because it was so heavy) and when we landed I learned lesson #1 of business travel - Never EVER check your luggage, EVER. I was told this several times while we waited at the carousel with said scary woman above. End Tangent.

As I've waited in lines with vacationing families or 'others' I've become acutely aware of the stupid, stupid things people do to undoubtedly, almost purposefully make me miss my flight. In particular are the electronics and liquids people decide to pack. Have you not watched the news in the past oh say seven years? Do the numbers 3-1-1 not mean anything to you? You get 3 ounces, 1 zip lock bag, 1 per traveler - come on now!

Its the arguing that I really don't understand. The TSA (god bless them) have something like a gillion people come through their lines in an hour - they've made the rules as simplistic and readily available as possible - do you really think arguing that your 6.5 ounces of Channel makeup is an exception to the rule because its expensive? Really? Or that you didn't know that you had to take your laptop out of the bag while its scanned? And don't even get me started on strollers.

So dear, fine Internet population and readers of my blog -- take a look at this site. Read it, learn it, live it. It will really, really make my life easier. Thanks.