Update! Phone Recovered!

A new me? An end to crabbiness? Oh come on now, people, it's too fun to mope. And I still have that management thing to contend with. But at least half of life is right with the world. Now, to figure how to reactivate that phone...

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It's probably not the best idea to blog when you're crabby. And boy am I crabby. I lost my cell phone. To describe this as a small issue is probably an overstatement given how much I use my phone, but I am still incomprehensibly crabby all the same. That's because I hate to lose things. Don't get me wrong, I am no patron saint of my worldly possessions. I've been known to lose some major things in my time, but the thing is I AGONIZE over the loss for days, sometimes years. I've been known to get upset over losing an earring backing. I lost a necklace that someone gave me for my first communion when I was 22 years old, and I still get upset over it when I think about it. It may be the act of losing something more than the actual lose itself (although I mourn that necklace as much as my own stupidity if I am honest.) Losing something represents forgetfulness, lose of control, some sense of irresponsibility, and a measure of ungratefulness for what you have. Can you tell I am catholic? But it upsets me down to my core that I can and do lose things.

Back to the phone, I am fairly certain what may have transpired. I had the phone while grocery shopping with Lottie on Sunday. We had to go to Safeway after our TJs run because for some strange reason TJs does not carry garbage bags. Lottie walked in Safeway and I have a fairly good recollection that she asked for and I gave her my phone so she could "call" daddy. And that's the last I remember of the phone. Did she put it down somewhere and I failed to notice? Did I pocket it and lose it myself? Hard to say and of course Safeway says they don't have it. Ugh.

I am also crabby today because I've come to the realization that managing people is harder than managing yourself. Ok, so that's a no shit statement, but (and don't kill me for my arrogance) I have traditionally deluded myself into thinking that the manager whine about how hard a job it is was really just a whine. How hard is it to edit, attend meetings, and pretend to listen to people? But as I sat across from someone for the fourth time in a single day trying to explain to them that "there wasn't any there there" I was toast. Ready to yell, tear my hair out, or have a snack. I chose the last option which itself is defeating because I haven't emotionally eaten in ages. How is it that smart people can be so stupid? I cringe to think how many times my managers have thought the same of me. I've also begun to wonder if this little experiment is really worth what I thought it might get me, or perhaps better to say where it might get me professionally. Sadly not even Zumba was enough to break through the double dose of crabbiness.

So there's my little ray of sunshine on this Tuesday returning us to winter. I'll try and blog about something more cheerful next. We're heading to Snowshoe this weekend so at the very least, I should have some pictures again finally. That is, if I don't lose my camera before then!

Let's Dance!

The girls and I are in full dancing mode this winter. Both Isabel and Lottie have started ballet again. Since I haven't blogged in awhile, they both started in a "real" ballet class last autumn. We're still doing rec center classes, but this one is taught is taught by an instructor from Reston Conservatory. She is FABULOUS. She brings costumes and teaches the girls French. And of course they love her. She taught Isabel's class a small routine at the end of the class in the autumn. Lottie knows that chasse means "gallop." And both know the joys of magic boxes and dead bugs. (You have to have been there.) In fact, Isabel seems so devoted to ballet that I think we're going to enroll her in a full time program come autumn of 2010. What a difference from a year and a half ago when we couldn't get her to go into class!

As for me, I've started Zumba. Tonight was my first class. Lord, that can kick you butt. I am taking it through the fitness center at work and of course the instructor is tight and can shake her booty like no one's business. Doubly of course, she's 47 years old and looks more fabulous than I did at 27 (nevermind 36). I knew I was in for some trouble when I picked her up from the lobby- yes I am a brown-noser!- and noticed her her pants had "ZUMBA!" down one of the legs. On the way out, she casually informed me that she ran marathons. Of course I had just bragged that I ran 5K distances. I always suspected that fitness instructors were a different breed.

I was a little apprehensive since I was somewhat convinced I'd be in a class of white women decades older desperate to look sexy and fit. Is that mean? I apologize but 36 is close enough to middle age that my inclination is to want to be hip to people 15 years younger rather than 15 years older. I guess it's my mid-life crisis. My only experience with zumba prior to this class was watching one with the girls next to our local pizza place while waiting for Ryan to show up for dinner. In that class, the only ones looking sexy (and boy did they) were the instructor and her assistant. Everyone else was really lame. Our class was a good mix of age ranges and fitness abilities, but even with that, I couldn't bring myself to look at myself in the mirror. Fitness clothes always look so much cuter in Lucy than they do when I am panting trying to keep up with hip thrusts. (There were of course lots of hip thrusts in Zumba.) And, for the record, it is next to impossible to gracefully salsa in running sneakers. We did have one superstar student who was good but not sexy. She did manage to catch the eye of the other "slower" students, tho, probably b/c she could salsa along with the instructor.

So, hopefully at the end of the 10 weeks, Lottie's chasse will actually meet the spirit of the music, Isabel's plie will be stronger, and my bootie will be firmer.

Au revoir

Brrrrr....

As nanny might say, it's cold, cold cold here in Virginia. Despite assurances from the ever cheerful Capital Weather Gang at the Post, I'd argue that arctic winds is still an apt descriptor for the weather, especially as I was blown around a bit on my way out the door from work tonight. And, of course, since it's January and frigid, Lottie is sick, sick, sick- wildly congested and probably a little feverish. I wonder if all those antioxidants I've been shoving down my throat will work to stave off the cooties she is likely sharing with me even as I type and she instructs me to get my "uter" so I can "work."

In between creaming, chapping, blowing, and whooping (in the wind), we're trying to figure out how to enjoy winter. We spent the better part of Sunday chasing down ski racks and trying to locate Lottie's strap-on skis. We took Ryan to the Ski Chalet in Arlington just so he could go inhale some hot wax. We also discovered that the Drafthouse is hosting one (?) Warren Miller movie next week for all you bunnies out there.

Part of our existential dilemma is how to become more regular bunnies ourselves. We went to WVA this autumn for a peak at Snowshoe Mtn and were almost instantly drawn to the image of the S4 in a log cabin of their own. In an ideal world, we might be able to pull off a vacation house nestled in the mountains but not without some serious reordering of our finances. And, being us, we tend to be much bigger talkers/dreamers than we do actualizers. Ryan assures me it's a family legacy. So for now, we enjoy hot wax in Arlington and grainy Warren images with beer in hand.

Rest assured, we will ski (we already have our VT plans firmly mapped out) and with any luck, we'll do it more than once.

Hello 2010

Is it weird that part of me actually looks forward to the post holidays period almost more than than I do to Christmas itself? I love the relative emptiness of the house after the decorations come down. I like the smell of citrus candles and pomegranate juice and water. Getting back to the gym and reading health magazines. All of this is especially refreshing after my almost clockwork over-indulgent tendencies throughout the month of December. Too many cookies, too much champagne, too little sleep, too much wrapping paper.

I've decided this year that my New Years resolution would in fact be nothing new at all. I am going to go back and try and actually live up to all of my resolutions of New Years past. I started off ok last year- I did in fact buy a sewing machine and made some pillows. I started doing small volunteer projects with the kids and at least for the first half of the year I ran routinely, making 4 miles a few times. Things totally deteriorated in the second half of the year, as they are wont to do.

So I am back to a fresh start. I pulled at the sewing machine yesterday, went back to the gym last Monday, threw out the rest of the cookies, took down the tree, and I going to try my very best to let things come instead of dwelling on what does or doesn't happen.

And with all of this, I'd like to blog again. I've actually missed Pinkerbelle these past few seasons. So, welcome 2010. We have big hopes for you!

Some scenes from Christmas-


GS Christmas Party 2009


Baking cookies



The Great Blizzard of Christmas 2009


Tea at the Mayflower, Christmas Eve


Presents


Happy New Years!