I can see clearly now

I am part of the unfortunate nearsighted majority. I’ve worn contact lenses since I was in middle school at my mother’s urging (probably because my spectacles did no favors for my then-gangly, dorky exterior). Whereas glasses can be associated with cool, urban hipsters, a bespectacled me more or less resembles a mean librarian.

Though obviously discouraged, I often wear contact lenses for 14 hours a day from within 15 minutes of waking up until I come home at night because I like taking full advantage of my peripheral vision, especially when ascending or descending stairs of any appreciable length. Upon a thorough visual inspection, the optometrist observed that my eyes are “very healthy” and my prescription has decreased for the second year in a row.  Booyah, as Mark Cramer would say.

Making small talk is my instinctive way of allaying the awkwardness of being in a small, dimly lit room with a relative stranger staring into my eyeball. Like a moth to a flame, I often find myself in awkward conversations and situations. Fortunately, all my optometrists have been no more socially adept than I am.

But I will make note of their sage career advice all the same. I have, for example, been advised, while I was still a student, to find a job working for the government, where the hours are more reasonable and flexible. Thus, I’ve found myself working in the private sector staring at a computer screen for the majority of my waking hours, and wearing my contact lenses for much longer than I ought to.

My Words with Friends drawing (circa Summer 2012)

Inside the Beltway (VA) -- Food Recommendations

I've spent most of my life inside the Capitol Beltway, so here is a sampling of recommendations for mostly off-the-beaten-path eateries in the Arlington/Shirlington/Falls Church area.

1. Dogfish Head Ale House: Their pizza is underrated! And the staffers, though young, are very nice. I used to frequent the place in high school and the pizza is still just as good. I can’t speak to the quality of any other entrée though ;)
2. Pastries by Randolph: The makers of the best fruit tart. I think I’ll get one for my birthday this year instead of baking a cake.
3. Song Que: Best place for bubble tea, but I always get Thai tea because I don’t love bubble tea or tapioca balls. (The milk tea, though, is no bueno!!)
4. Carlyle: Brunch is dope. Lunch is yum. Dinner is gewd. I dream of the ozzie rolls. One time, I might’ve overwhelmed the waitress with my hangry sarcasm about the lack of ozzie rolls at dinner. Turns out she was in my high-school Spanish 4 class. Small world!
5. Pho Sate: Good pho is not too hard to come by inside the Beltway, but this is my favorite place. Golden Cow, despite its silly name, comes in at a close second. I took Anna here a few weeks ago for her first pho experience at the ripe ol’ age of 26.

Since I gave you all ideas, can someone please suggest a place that offers decent milk tea in the area?

Saturday spin

So, I got into a car accident yesterday. I was making a sharp right turn from Rt. 50 into a shopping center and had to cross a service road running parallel to Rt. 50 to get into the parking lot when a car going in the opposite direction trying to make a left onto the service road didn’t stop in time and crunched my car’s driver’s-side door. He had a stop sign.

That accident doesn’t even crack the top 5 stressful moments in my life. (The other driver and I are 100% OK) Although the accident was scary at the time – especially watching his car hit mine during the half-second collision – there are moments at work, and at times life, that are considerably more tense. That, for me, is telling.

Summer 2013 was undoubtedly the most trying period of my career, and, in retrospect, I am surprised I’d made it to the other side with an ounce of sanity. Trying to keep afloat a hugely ambitious and expensive production amid meltdowns of team members while I was on the verge of buckling under the pressure of all the anxiety-inducing eleventh-hour happenings following the 2 1/2 months of nearly daily beatings to my morale is no walk in the park. Nor is having to defend myself to the powers that be when my well-intentioned decisions are questioned on a visible platform. If I don’t keep it together and defend myself, then goshdarnit, who will? But at least I won the latter argument. 

I pick up my rental car tomorrow. My damaged vehicle will be towed away for repairs some time later this week. Life goes on, and we learn to shed the worries that aren't worth dwelling on.

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Also, since I never quite finished the June blogathon (worked picked up and left little time/energy/motivation for anything else), I will carry on where I left off starting today -- this time I'll blog every odd-numbered day for the rest of November!

Tide to Go

Tide to Go has saved me many a time since I first discovered it in college, and I keep one of the markers at my work desk for when granola-bar eating goes awry.

Thursday morning was one of those days when I login to the network and find one of the cheeriest possible welcomes: an impromptu morning meeting invitation with the One Who Can Make Even Grown Men Sweat. Those mornings are when I'm the hungriest. So, I ripped open a granola bar and did some concentrated preparation for the meeting, and maybe chatted with a colleague or two from the other side of the cube walls.

And then I looked down to find some micro chocolate-y bits had fallen and melted onto my skirt.

@#$%@#!

My Tide to Go pen worked its advertised magic in no time (very impressive considering the chocolate stains), but, of course, took a million years to dry on my khaki-colored skirt that invites attention to every drop of moisture on its surface. I needed to pick up some printouts to mark up for the meeting, but I figured I probably wouldn't run into anyone, or if I did, the stains would be dry by the time I get to the printer. Right? Nope.

Three obvious, Tide to Go (but very questionable-looking) moisture spots were still visible from the middle front of my skirt, but I decided that it wasn't worth the fruitless fanning in the printer corner, and walked back to my desk, printouts in hand. On the return journey, I, of course, run into Man Who Notices Everything. By the time I see MWNE, he's already looking at me sideways (by that I mean his head is literally sideways) -- and not because he's curious about my printouts.

Murphy's Law.

On the upside, the meeting went fine, with minimal sweating and no tummy grumbling.

Me dressed up as a pumpkin, as illustrated by Tony Ma

Taking stock

Making: Pie for my coworkers

Drinking: Pumpkin spice lattes no less than three times a week. So what if it’s not quite cold yet? :)

Reading: Bon Appetit magazine for baking ideas

Wanting: Sushi

Looking: Forward to a good week (at least I hope so:)

Playing: Is for weekends

Wasting: Time recouping from a crazy work week

Wishing: Duncan were around to see the remodeled kitchen

Enjoying: My freshly painted toenails

Waiting: For the wedding

Liking: My new umbrella (my last one survived a few good years but inverted for the last time a week ago and broke)

Wondering: Why I didn’t go to yoga this morning.

Loving: The lulling sound of rain outside my bedroom window

Hoping: I’ll have another bunny as charismatic as Dunky one day

Marveling: At my turning 24 soon. Time flies doesn’t it?

Needing: To go to bed soon. Maybe :)

Smelling: A cranberry-scented candle. It stinks!

Wearing: Cozy PJs

Following: Sad Desk Lunches tumblr

Noticing: This is the first weekend in a few weeks I’ve been able to leave my workphone at home without feeling a little guilty

Knowing: I tried

Thinking: How pleased I am by simple, charming emails or messages

Feeling: Relaxed

Bookmarking: Gemma Correll comics and illustrations. 

Opening: A bag of chocolate chips for the aforementioned pie

Giggling: At my brother’s text message

Thuy during our roommate trip to Ocean City

Stressful days

... Feel like this in the inside:

(Source)

Leap of faith

When taking the plunge and signing a job offer, one would always hope for the same things that anchor us, in a good way, to what will likely be a years-long commitment.

Hope that your sense of self-worth won’t be to beaten down too frequently (or too violently) if you are genuinely putting forth your best effort.

Hope that you meet a nice friend or two. That your coworkers and others you interact with day-to-day will accept and welcome you into their circle, and help you gain a sense of community that make that 40-plus hours a week go by pleasantly.

Hope that your day-to-day responsibilities are sufficiently gratifying to encourage you to work diligently for the sake of it.

Hope that it will lead you down a career path that will provide the same sense of personal and professional fulfillment throughout your working years.

It all boils down to the same: the hope that you’ll be lucky enough to do something you can grow to love in an environment among people who bring out the best possible you.

Chilly sunrise at Ocean City (July 2013)