A very bad thing. I went shopping. And I bought the store.
You see, I put myself on a STRICT clothing budget last June. $100 a month. And I've been sticking to it. (Excuse me, I stuck to it.) You may say, "Hey, that's not strict at all! That's pretty reasonable."
No it's not. I'm DYING here, people! That is a stifling, dream-crushing, soul-consuming meager $100 a month budget. I can barely buy the essential make-up in that budget! And my roots look atrocious. (I guess I should elaborate and say that my $100 budget wasn't just for clothes--it was for making yourself beautiful.) And if the proof of the number of dates I've been on lately means anything, my $100 budget just isn't cutting it.
So you know what I did? I blew it. Absolutely blew it. I blew it the same way an extreme dieter who has eaten only 200 calories a day for 3 weeks goes to The Cheesecake Factory and orders the Orange Chicken dinner dish with the triple layer chocolate cake for dessert.....and eats the whole thing. That pretty much sums up the damage I did today.
But to my credit, I did save over $380 dollars today! You see, I'm a sale shopper. They get me every time. But all of this is for work...so it's basically a lifetime investment anyways. And if I have cute clothes for work, then I'll want to work more and probably end up making more money than I spent today anyway. And I deserve it, damnit! I've been working so hard this year. SO HARD. I am taking 12 hours at SMU, on the rowing team (practice 20 hours a week getting up at 4:50 AM every day) and I also work about 16 hours a week at 2 jobs. I DESERVED THIS!!!
I told two of my friends what I did today...by spreading out everything on my bed and sending them a picture. I got back, "Thata girl!" and "You need help." Can you guess which one buys Prada?
Anyway, I gave all of my excuses (see above) to Friend-who-does-not-buy-Prada and she responded, "Whatever you need to tell yourself..."
Ugh, no support I tell you! If she had come with me when I had asked her, then she could have stopped me. But no, she had to go and fall asleep on her couch. Good Lord, where are your friends when you need them to steal your credit card from you?! I can tell you: Las Vegas, Houston, Florida, Wisconsin and asleep on her couch (it's currently Fall Break).
Soooooooo I basically blew through my budget for the next few months...we'll see how long this holds up. I'll call for back-up if I need it.
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
I love my dad
This is going to be one of the lamest posts ever but whatever. If you don't want to read it, then don't.
I love my dad. He is one of the best people I've ever met. Honestly. He is always looking out for other people and is always thinking ahead. He wants what is best for everyone and always gives really good advice.
I talk to him on the phone almost every day telling him what's going on and asking him what I should do about this or that. Seriously. You may say, "You are a 21 year old woman! Stand on your own two feet for Pete's sake!" But why would I want to do that when I still have my daddy?
He has challenged me, pushed me, helped me up when I've fallen, not helped me up when I had to learn how to get up on my own, made me do things I didn't want to do but had benefits beyond my wildest dreams (he made me start rowing which landed me a scholarship at SMU, the school I love), taught me the value of a hard days work, taught me how to enjoy the money you have worked so hard for, helped me seek and find balance, serenity, peace and happiness.
He has been incredibly supportive. I would not have made it through some of my tough times without him there to keep me going and I certainly would not be there person I am today.
You know that that story of the man walking in the sand and during some of his hardest times there were only one pair of footprints because Jesus said, "Well I was carrying you."? Well I'm pretty sure in my version those footprints are my dad's.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Hi.
It's me.
Do you remember me?
Probably not.
I barely remember me.
But, yes, this is real life. I'm here. I'm writing. I'm doing it...despite the totally inappropriate hour where I will be waking up in 3 hours to go to a 2 hour practice to do what enables me to be in this wonderful city doing what I love surrounded by the people who keep me going every single day. (Except for all of you at home reading this, of course. Even though I don't talk to you, you keep me going. I do think about you. And I'm not just saying that. I think too much. About you. And about things. Which is why I'm here instead of sleeping and preparing my body and mind for the grueling practice awaiting me. I can't sleep when I think. And vice versa.)
Do you ever wonder about that? Do you ever wish you wouldn't think so much? I do. All the time. I think way too much. About a lot of things. Which is why, in my room, there are journals hidden all over the place full of stories and thoughts and things that I think about when I lie awake at night. I'll never get this time back. I'll never get this time to sleep back. And it's ok. It's what I choose.....I suppose. Unconsciously.
Anyway, I have lots of stories for you. I was thinking about them today as I ran. Running is my blogging time. And I've been meaning to get back to you. It's been a month. AKA too long. You need to know what I'm up to, right? I figured. Well, the answer is: lots of things. Too many things. Which is why I have many stories to write for you. But not now. I need to take a little nap before practice. But how about a little taste, eh? Ok, that'll do.
I'll give you the titles of the stories. They are: "The Date"; "The Fight"; "The Dedicated Starbucks Customer (and it's not me)"; "The New Melrose Place"; "The Bad News Bears"; "The Sacrifice"; "The Happiness"; "The Process"; "The Power Struggle". Enough? I thought so. Hopefully I'll be able to pound these out soon. And, I'll be honest. It's not just for you. It's for me too.
You see, I'm obsessed with recording things. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's a self-preservation thing where, if I forget, it'll be there in writing and/or recording to remind me. My friends look at me like I'm psycho when I shove a video camera in their face BUT they are incredibly happy when I capture the insane moments of our lives that show us exactly who we are. And, yes, I'm not overexaggerating. You see yourself in a different way when you are recorded. Trust me. I never thought I was an idiot UNTIL I saw myself looking like an idiot.
Check yourself before you wreck yourself.
Nah, I think I'll wreck myself. That way I can pick up the pieces and write about it. That's what it's all about, right?
Do you remember me?
Probably not.
I barely remember me.
But, yes, this is real life. I'm here. I'm writing. I'm doing it...despite the totally inappropriate hour where I will be waking up in 3 hours to go to a 2 hour practice to do what enables me to be in this wonderful city doing what I love surrounded by the people who keep me going every single day. (Except for all of you at home reading this, of course. Even though I don't talk to you, you keep me going. I do think about you. And I'm not just saying that. I think too much. About you. And about things. Which is why I'm here instead of sleeping and preparing my body and mind for the grueling practice awaiting me. I can't sleep when I think. And vice versa.)
Do you ever wonder about that? Do you ever wish you wouldn't think so much? I do. All the time. I think way too much. About a lot of things. Which is why, in my room, there are journals hidden all over the place full of stories and thoughts and things that I think about when I lie awake at night. I'll never get this time back. I'll never get this time to sleep back. And it's ok. It's what I choose.....I suppose. Unconsciously.
Anyway, I have lots of stories for you. I was thinking about them today as I ran. Running is my blogging time. And I've been meaning to get back to you. It's been a month. AKA too long. You need to know what I'm up to, right? I figured. Well, the answer is: lots of things. Too many things. Which is why I have many stories to write for you. But not now. I need to take a little nap before practice. But how about a little taste, eh? Ok, that'll do.
I'll give you the titles of the stories. They are: "The Date"; "The Fight"; "The Dedicated Starbucks Customer (and it's not me)"; "The New Melrose Place"; "The Bad News Bears"; "The Sacrifice"; "The Happiness"; "The Process"; "The Power Struggle". Enough? I thought so. Hopefully I'll be able to pound these out soon. And, I'll be honest. It's not just for you. It's for me too.
You see, I'm obsessed with recording things. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's a self-preservation thing where, if I forget, it'll be there in writing and/or recording to remind me. My friends look at me like I'm psycho when I shove a video camera in their face BUT they are incredibly happy when I capture the insane moments of our lives that show us exactly who we are. And, yes, I'm not overexaggerating. You see yourself in a different way when you are recorded. Trust me. I never thought I was an idiot UNTIL I saw myself looking like an idiot.
Check yourself before you wreck yourself.
Nah, I think I'll wreck myself. That way I can pick up the pieces and write about it. That's what it's all about, right?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Absinthe
I'm sorry....I meant absence. I must have just put that as the title because I was thinking about the other day when my mother told me Miley Cyrus got caught smoking a bong and she claimed it was "Absinthe" (which keeps going in and out of legality, by the way) and NOT Pot. Of course we believe you, Miley! Not.
Poor girl. A role model to millions and she can't have fun by doing anything illegal. She's been robbed of the adolescent ability to know right from wrong and knowingly choose the wrong. Instead of her parents and and their friends finding out about her mistakes, she's got the whole world to worry about. Neighborhood gossip at its finest: The Tabloids.
Anyway, this is about me, NOT Miley. I felt that perhaps that was a lighthearted lead-in to what is sure to be a semi-depressing post. Sooooo.....let's get to it.
Please excuse my prolonged absence.
I haven’t been feeling like myself lately. So I haven’t been doing my normal things. I love writing, yet I haven’t been able to bring myself to come here. I LOVE going out (perhaps sometimes too much) but I haven’t been able to make myself go.
I blame gray Kansas City.
Don’t get me wrong: I LOVE Kansas City….in the summertime. And during the holidays. But after the holidays and during the months of January and February (which I am convinced are the two most pointless months of the entire year), it’s cold and gray and there’s nothing going on. So I’d just rather sleep.
I realized this when, night after night, my friends would call me around 9/10ish telling me to go out with them aaaaaaaand I was in bed. In my pajamas in the dark having taken off my make-up, I was settling in with Bon Iver and getting ready to pass the F out. At 9pm. Am I a BABY?!?! It’s not like I planned to go to bed at this time. In fact, I never even looked at the clock until they would scream, “HALEY!!! IT’S 9:30!!!!”
“Ohh, really? I thought it was much later. Anyway, I’m going to pass. I’m tired.” And I would almost instantaneously escape into dreamland as I hung up.
I couldn’t bear the thought of tearing myself from my warm bed, getting dressed and re-doing my make-up to go out into the 20-something weather and drive 30 minutes to get where we wanted to go. That’s the other thing about Kansas City: we all live so far away from each other and the bars that it takes time, energy, and effort to get somewhere. And that’s the time, energy and effort I just don’t seem to have right now. So I fall asleep.
Whew, what a depressing post!
Don’t worry, my break hasn’t been so low-key and full of nothingness. I’ve had some really great times that, incidentally, can’t be recorded on the Internet. For future employer’s sake. And yours. And mine. But some can and will be recorded. Just not right now. I don’t have time: I’m going on a run. That’s where I do most of my thinking. It’s where I clear my head. And where I come up with some of my blog posts because I have the time to think. I made this quick little one because I felt like I owed you an explanation.
And if you didn’t need/want one, I did. So there it is.
Enjoy the months of January and February—I’ll be trying to pretend it’s June.
Poor girl. A role model to millions and she can't have fun by doing anything illegal. She's been robbed of the adolescent ability to know right from wrong and knowingly choose the wrong. Instead of her parents and and their friends finding out about her mistakes, she's got the whole world to worry about. Neighborhood gossip at its finest: The Tabloids.
Anyway, this is about me, NOT Miley. I felt that perhaps that was a lighthearted lead-in to what is sure to be a semi-depressing post. Sooooo.....let's get to it.
Please excuse my prolonged absence.
I haven’t been feeling like myself lately. So I haven’t been doing my normal things. I love writing, yet I haven’t been able to bring myself to come here. I LOVE going out (perhaps sometimes too much) but I haven’t been able to make myself go.
I blame gray Kansas City.
Don’t get me wrong: I LOVE Kansas City….in the summertime. And during the holidays. But after the holidays and during the months of January and February (which I am convinced are the two most pointless months of the entire year), it’s cold and gray and there’s nothing going on. So I’d just rather sleep.
I realized this when, night after night, my friends would call me around 9/10ish telling me to go out with them aaaaaaaand I was in bed. In my pajamas in the dark having taken off my make-up, I was settling in with Bon Iver and getting ready to pass the F out. At 9pm. Am I a BABY?!?! It’s not like I planned to go to bed at this time. In fact, I never even looked at the clock until they would scream, “HALEY!!! IT’S 9:30!!!!”
“Ohh, really? I thought it was much later. Anyway, I’m going to pass. I’m tired.” And I would almost instantaneously escape into dreamland as I hung up.
I couldn’t bear the thought of tearing myself from my warm bed, getting dressed and re-doing my make-up to go out into the 20-something weather and drive 30 minutes to get where we wanted to go. That’s the other thing about Kansas City: we all live so far away from each other and the bars that it takes time, energy, and effort to get somewhere. And that’s the time, energy and effort I just don’t seem to have right now. So I fall asleep.
Whew, what a depressing post!
Don’t worry, my break hasn’t been so low-key and full of nothingness. I’ve had some really great times that, incidentally, can’t be recorded on the Internet. For future employer’s sake. And yours. And mine. But some can and will be recorded. Just not right now. I don’t have time: I’m going on a run. That’s where I do most of my thinking. It’s where I clear my head. And where I come up with some of my blog posts because I have the time to think. I made this quick little one because I felt like I owed you an explanation.
And if you didn’t need/want one, I did. So there it is.
Enjoy the months of January and February—I’ll be trying to pretend it’s June.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Where are you going?
This is a throwback. An oldie. A classic.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
I was asked this question last night by an adult I've known for years....and I literally almost responded with, "an astronaut." (We'll discuss my tendencies for supplying sarcastic and unrealistic responses in order to disguise the unfortunate and boring reality that is my life later...)
Surprisingly, however, becoming an astronaut is just as likely as anything else right now. (Not really. I'm excessively exaggerating--I'm not in an engineering program, I have no plans of getting a PhD in space mechanics, and I have too sensitive of a stomach to pass one of those tests where they spin you around really quickly.) But still. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.
Am I in the business school? Yes. Is there an obvious career path for me when I graduate? Sort of.
I was contemplating going to Grad school or getting a job immediately after graduation (which is looming in my too-soon future.) All of this was complicated even more--and fast forwarded--when I met with my advisor the other day and he informed me that I'm so ahead of the game that I can save myself a lot of time and money and graduate next December. NEXT DECEMBER. AKA....a year from now! This suggestion went in one ear and out of the other. It's out of the question.
First of all, I'll only be 22 and I'll have plenty of time on my hands; I plan to live until I'm 80. Don't we all? Ahhh the young; we're so indestructible. I'll still be working out to the max and answering trivia questions like Wikipedia. (Trust me, I've already taken measures to extend my life. I've begun using repairing eye cream and I do sudoku and crossword puzzles to keep my brain sharp.) Anyway, secondly, SMU pays for my tuition and room and board (and then some) so I actually won't save any money. Third of all, do I want to quit rowing the middle of my senior year? Answer: yes, I'll probably be so exhausted by then that I'll want to, but I know I'll miss it so incredibly much and regret that decision for the rest of my life. I'm not a quitter. So that's also out of the question.
Regardless, this new opportunity put me on the fast track for some decision making--it made me realize how close the future actually is...damnit. Since I decided to stay at SMU for another semester without any required classes, I think I'm going to try and turn my English minor into an English major. I LOVE English. And I have extra time.
This resulted in MORE questions. My advisor said a lot of people who major in English go to Law School. Law School? I've entertained the idea before, but I hate the thought of taking out student loans. And what if I don't like it? What if I end up never using my degree? What a waste. I just don't know.... And IF Law School, then where? SMU Law? In my dreams. So expensive. Could I even get in? I've gotta stay in the south, so UT Austin? I'd love to. California? I may go to Law School just to move to Cali....joking....but not. When do I take the LSAT? Do I pay the $1,200 for the LSAT prep class just to try to cram it into my already overflowing schedule in the spring? Sweet Jesus, this blows.
Do I graduate and then go straight to work? If so, where? I plan on staying in Dallas (sorry, family) so I'll probably get a risk management job working 60-70 hours a week and go for runs with my Great Dane after an exhilarating (joke) day at work. (Yes, that is one thing I'm certain of: I want a massive dog for my running buddy.) Perhaps I could think about and study for Law School after I graduate and get a job....good gracious this is difficult.
And what about writing? Future job or just a hobby? I've always dreamed of writing for a magazine or becoming a book editor but....we'll see. And, after all of this, will I just end up being a stay-at-home mom with 4 (hopefully) kids running around with paint all over their hands and mud all over their feet? No....freaking....clue.
Well, whatever. I know that whatever decision I make is the right decision and will take me where I need to go. Do I want to go to Law School? Sure. I just bought a pair of fake glasses the other day that make me look really smart and I'd fit right in. Do I want to work? Of course. Making money sure beats the hell out of spending it. Do I want to go to Grad School? Yeah, I'd put off the real world for a few more years. Mommy? Of course I want kids. So it looks like all options are valid.
Now, I just need a decision. Eh, maybe I'll make one in a few months.....maybe.
And now, the throwback:
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
I was asked this question last night by an adult I've known for years....and I literally almost responded with, "an astronaut." (We'll discuss my tendencies for supplying sarcastic and unrealistic responses in order to disguise the unfortunate and boring reality that is my life later...)
Surprisingly, however, becoming an astronaut is just as likely as anything else right now. (Not really. I'm excessively exaggerating--I'm not in an engineering program, I have no plans of getting a PhD in space mechanics, and I have too sensitive of a stomach to pass one of those tests where they spin you around really quickly.) But still. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.
Am I in the business school? Yes. Is there an obvious career path for me when I graduate? Sort of.
I was contemplating going to Grad school or getting a job immediately after graduation (which is looming in my too-soon future.) All of this was complicated even more--and fast forwarded--when I met with my advisor the other day and he informed me that I'm so ahead of the game that I can save myself a lot of time and money and graduate next December. NEXT DECEMBER. AKA....a year from now! This suggestion went in one ear and out of the other. It's out of the question.
First of all, I'll only be 22 and I'll have plenty of time on my hands; I plan to live until I'm 80. Don't we all? Ahhh the young; we're so indestructible. I'll still be working out to the max and answering trivia questions like Wikipedia. (Trust me, I've already taken measures to extend my life. I've begun using repairing eye cream and I do sudoku and crossword puzzles to keep my brain sharp.) Anyway, secondly, SMU pays for my tuition and room and board (and then some) so I actually won't save any money. Third of all, do I want to quit rowing the middle of my senior year? Answer: yes, I'll probably be so exhausted by then that I'll want to, but I know I'll miss it so incredibly much and regret that decision for the rest of my life. I'm not a quitter. So that's also out of the question.
Regardless, this new opportunity put me on the fast track for some decision making--it made me realize how close the future actually is...damnit. Since I decided to stay at SMU for another semester without any required classes, I think I'm going to try and turn my English minor into an English major. I LOVE English. And I have extra time.
This resulted in MORE questions. My advisor said a lot of people who major in English go to Law School. Law School? I've entertained the idea before, but I hate the thought of taking out student loans. And what if I don't like it? What if I end up never using my degree? What a waste. I just don't know.... And IF Law School, then where? SMU Law? In my dreams. So expensive. Could I even get in? I've gotta stay in the south, so UT Austin? I'd love to. California? I may go to Law School just to move to Cali....joking....but not. When do I take the LSAT? Do I pay the $1,200 for the LSAT prep class just to try to cram it into my already overflowing schedule in the spring? Sweet Jesus, this blows.
Do I graduate and then go straight to work? If so, where? I plan on staying in Dallas (sorry, family) so I'll probably get a risk management job working 60-70 hours a week and go for runs with my Great Dane after an exhilarating (joke) day at work. (Yes, that is one thing I'm certain of: I want a massive dog for my running buddy.) Perhaps I could think about and study for Law School after I graduate and get a job....good gracious this is difficult.
And what about writing? Future job or just a hobby? I've always dreamed of writing for a magazine or becoming a book editor but....we'll see. And, after all of this, will I just end up being a stay-at-home mom with 4 (hopefully) kids running around with paint all over their hands and mud all over their feet? No....freaking....clue.
Well, whatever. I know that whatever decision I make is the right decision and will take me where I need to go. Do I want to go to Law School? Sure. I just bought a pair of fake glasses the other day that make me look really smart and I'd fit right in. Do I want to work? Of course. Making money sure beats the hell out of spending it. Do I want to go to Grad School? Yeah, I'd put off the real world for a few more years. Mommy? Of course I want kids. So it looks like all options are valid.
Now, I just need a decision. Eh, maybe I'll make one in a few months.....maybe.
And now, the throwback:
Friday, November 19, 2010
Step One:
Admit you have a problem.
I have a problem.
Well.....it's not so much a problem for me as it is for my bank account. You see, it's actually not causing one bit of chaos in my closet, but it's doing massive damage to my monetary funds and strict budget. It always happens around this time of year. This is the time of year that I become a very special person to myself. (I know that sounds very conceited and selfish, but if you know me well enough, I'm not either of those two things. At least, I hope not.) Either way, the problem begins around the 2nd of November and ends around December 26th.
The gifts just keep coming.
And coming and coming and coming. And coming.
From myself to myself.
My birthday is November 3rd and (obviously) Christmas is December 25th. Therefore, I end up using these two very important holidays as perfect excuses to buy myself presents. I am celebrating mine and Jesus' births, after all. And I'm a pretty good person, so we'll just throw that in there as well.
It all begins (well, I'll be honest) as soon as fall starts. So I guess we're actually talking late September. Whatever. I use the change in season (and change in wardrobe) to buy myself something special. After all, I have absolutely nothing appropriate for fall in my closet. What have I been wearing for the last 20 years?! Therefore, a trip to the mall is absolutely necessary. Later, as I look around my favorite store Nordstrom's, I think, "Well, my birthday IS coming up (still over a month away, mind you) and this IS kind of a big birthday so this will be my birthday present to myself. Alright, that sounds good enough."
I've been using this "big birthday" thing for the past 4 years. And it will probably work for the next few years as well:
18: I'm finally legal to.....not really do anything important besides vote. Oh well, I'm graduating in May so..... yeah, it's still September but this is an early graduation present to myself as well.
19: Last year of being a teenager!!! Let's hold fast to this last year and celebrate at the mall.
20: Finally hit my 20s and no longer a teenager (thank GOD). Let's go buy myself something cute to wear out tonight.
21: Now I can drink and be an adult! Let's go buy something for me to wear to celebrate drinking my first alcoholic beverage!
22: Aaaaaaand now I'm OLD. Let's go buy myself something to cheer myself up.
23: Now I'm just really old and no one cares about my birthday anymore. Let's do some retail therapy. And I can buy myself two things this time: one for each year over the age of 21...sigh...
This could easily continue in a plausible fashion, but you get the picture.
I'm not quite sure when the presents stop being birthday presents and start being Christmas presents, but I'm sure it's sometime after Thanksgiving. Actually, it's probably the weekend after because that's when a lot of sales are going on. So, I kill two birds with one stone and take advantage of all the sales while celebrating the beginning of the Christmas season. "This will look GREAT at the next holiday party. Now I just need shoes, jewelry, and a top to match." Merry Christmas to me.
After Christmas, well actually New Years I suppose, ("I need something black and sparkly to celebrate the New Year in!!") I get my credit card statement and immediately go into cardiac arrest. "I spent HOW MUCH on clothing and shopping for the past two months?! There's no way. There must be some mistake....Oh wait, yeah I remember that one....Ok, yeah, that was a birthday present.....Oh, I wasn't feeling well that day.....Well, those shoes were on sale and they were the last pair so I had to get them....The skirt went with the shoes.....That necklace went with the skirt......Those other shoes went with the necklace.....I could get the shirt for free if I only spent a little bit more....It was the beginning of the Christmas season.....I had a gift card that covered 1/4 of the cost so it was basically 25% off...." and so on.
I then resolve to not buy anything else unless it's absolutely necessary. (NOTE: I subconsciously leave the definition of "necessary" pretty vague to give myself some sort of cop-out). I then work my tail off babysitting everyone and their dog to save up for summer. And by "summer", I suppose I actually mean spring because, let's be honest, I have absolutely nothing appropriate to wear for spring. What have I been wearing for the past 20 years?!
I have a problem.
Well.....it's not so much a problem for me as it is for my bank account. You see, it's actually not causing one bit of chaos in my closet, but it's doing massive damage to my monetary funds and strict budget. It always happens around this time of year. This is the time of year that I become a very special person to myself. (I know that sounds very conceited and selfish, but if you know me well enough, I'm not either of those two things. At least, I hope not.) Either way, the problem begins around the 2nd of November and ends around December 26th.
The gifts just keep coming.
And coming and coming and coming. And coming.
From myself to myself.
My birthday is November 3rd and (obviously) Christmas is December 25th. Therefore, I end up using these two very important holidays as perfect excuses to buy myself presents. I am celebrating mine and Jesus' births, after all. And I'm a pretty good person, so we'll just throw that in there as well.
It all begins (well, I'll be honest) as soon as fall starts. So I guess we're actually talking late September. Whatever. I use the change in season (and change in wardrobe) to buy myself something special. After all, I have absolutely nothing appropriate for fall in my closet. What have I been wearing for the last 20 years?! Therefore, a trip to the mall is absolutely necessary. Later, as I look around my favorite store Nordstrom's, I think, "Well, my birthday IS coming up (still over a month away, mind you) and this IS kind of a big birthday so this will be my birthday present to myself. Alright, that sounds good enough."
I've been using this "big birthday" thing for the past 4 years. And it will probably work for the next few years as well:
18: I'm finally legal to.....not really do anything important besides vote. Oh well, I'm graduating in May so..... yeah, it's still September but this is an early graduation present to myself as well.
19: Last year of being a teenager!!! Let's hold fast to this last year and celebrate at the mall.
20: Finally hit my 20s and no longer a teenager (thank GOD). Let's go buy myself something cute to wear out tonight.
21: Now I can drink and be an adult! Let's go buy something for me to wear to celebrate drinking my first alcoholic beverage!
22: Aaaaaaand now I'm OLD. Let's go buy myself something to cheer myself up.
23: Now I'm just really old and no one cares about my birthday anymore. Let's do some retail therapy. And I can buy myself two things this time: one for each year over the age of 21...sigh...
This could easily continue in a plausible fashion, but you get the picture.
I'm not quite sure when the presents stop being birthday presents and start being Christmas presents, but I'm sure it's sometime after Thanksgiving. Actually, it's probably the weekend after because that's when a lot of sales are going on. So, I kill two birds with one stone and take advantage of all the sales while celebrating the beginning of the Christmas season. "This will look GREAT at the next holiday party. Now I just need shoes, jewelry, and a top to match." Merry Christmas to me.
After Christmas, well actually New Years I suppose, ("I need something black and sparkly to celebrate the New Year in!!") I get my credit card statement and immediately go into cardiac arrest. "I spent HOW MUCH on clothing and shopping for the past two months?! There's no way. There must be some mistake....Oh wait, yeah I remember that one....Ok, yeah, that was a birthday present.....Oh, I wasn't feeling well that day.....Well, those shoes were on sale and they were the last pair so I had to get them....The skirt went with the shoes.....That necklace went with the skirt......Those other shoes went with the necklace.....I could get the shirt for free if I only spent a little bit more....It was the beginning of the Christmas season.....I had a gift card that covered 1/4 of the cost so it was basically 25% off...." and so on.
I then resolve to not buy anything else unless it's absolutely necessary. (NOTE: I subconsciously leave the definition of "necessary" pretty vague to give myself some sort of cop-out). I then work my tail off babysitting everyone and their dog to save up for summer. And by "summer", I suppose I actually mean spring because, let's be honest, I have absolutely nothing appropriate to wear for spring. What have I been wearing for the past 20 years?!
Monday, November 15, 2010
I Died.
Kind of. Almost. Basically.
As much as I joke, this was actually really scary.
It was last Friday. We had a 6,000 meter ergometer test. This is one of the most difficult things I do in my life. This is a test where you push your body to its ultimate limit of exhaustion.....and then beyond that. Literally. You'll see. An ergometer is a rowing machine. I'm sure you've seen it in the gym. Maybe you've even hopped on it and pulled on the handle for a few minutes. But there is no possible way that you have EVER experienced the pain of an erg test. We do these multiple times a year. Stressful and painful, I always feel completely shitty and totally awesome at the same time whenever I finish. I think it has something to do with how crazy I am and the fact that I love pain in my muscles and body. Huh.
Anyway, I prepared myself all week by eating extremely healthy and getting a lot of sleep. I drank tons of water and even counted my fat, protein, and carbohydrate gram intake for a few days. (Crazy, yes.) I made sure I ate enough. But nothing could prepare me for what was going to happen during this erg test.
I started off strong. I was pounding out each stroke. I was so fit. I was flying. I was doing better than I had anticipated. Around the 3,000 meter mark, I started feeling sick to my stomach. Only half-way through and I felt like I was going to vom. It wasn't nausea caused by food; rather, it was the lactic acid that had built up in my legs and had finally made its way to my stomach. This is where you hit your anarobic threshold and your body needs to stop doing what it's doing. "Great," I thought. "Only half-way done and my body is already telling me that it has had enough and I need to stop immediately." But I couldn't stop. I was in the middle of a test. And there was no way I was quitting, even if my body was telling me that it was getting sick.
I'm coming up to the last 500 meters when all of a sudden I get tunnel vision. I can barely see anything in front of me. Yet, somehow, I still keep going as fast as I possibly can. "I'm almost finished with this MOFO test and there is NO WAY that I'm quitting. Even if I can't see." A few of my teammates are cheering behind me to sprint as fast as I can in order to get the best possible time. I'm doing everything in my power to stay conscious and finish the test.
I don't remember the last 200 meters (roughly one minute). I don't remember finishing. I know I didn't pass out, but I don't remember if I fell to the ground, stood up, or what. One of my teammates was there and helped me get off the erg (I only remember this because she was still with me about 20 minutes later and told me). I was so hot. I couldn't stand to be inside, but I couldn't walk either. She helped me walk outside where I immediately began vomiting and fell to the ground. I lost control of my entire body and couldn't talk, couldn't see, and (this is kind of embarrassing) began going to the bathroom. I completely lost control of my entire body as a result of this test. They had to pour water all over me to try to get my body temperature to decrease. But I was still so hot. And couldn't move.
And my heart rate was still at 190. This is 190 beats per minute. AKA, this is your heart rate when you are running/erging/whatever at your absolute hardest. But I had stopped doing any cardio 10 minutes ago. My heart rate should have slowed back to normal within 2 minutes of stopping. Something was very wrong.
I was still vomiting. I was still on the ground. Two of my teammates were looking at me like they had seen a ghost. They had. "Haley, you're so pale. You're as white as a sheet! You need some help. We need to go to the training room immediately." But I still couldn't walk. I could barely keep my eyes open. My teammate had to walk me to the training room, taking 10 minutes for a 2 minute walk.
We are about 100 meters away from the door when my entire arm begins to go numb. I had remained calm and didn't really feel like anything was wrong (weird, I know) until I couldn't feel a part of my body. I immediately begin freaking out. My teammate gets even more concerned. She runs to open the door and I slowly saunter through. We make it down the stairs and I'm on the verge of tears. I don't know what's going on. But I feel so sick. And I'm so hot that I can barely stand it. We finally make it downstairs and I lay down on the ground. I don't have enough energy to remain standing. I was so hot, but I wasn't sweating. My body was on fire. My teammate runs to get more water and begins pouring water all over me in the hallway. My trainer finally comes out to see what's going on and coaxes me into the training room and gets me to lay down and drink some water and Gatorade. I immediately begin throwing it up. My body can't handle anything at this point. She talks to me and helps me relax and gives me some medicine and electrolytes to rehydrate my body and get my blood sugar back to normal. I can finally down some Gatorade.
"Did you eat enough today? Did you sleep enough last night? What have you been doing all week? Did you do anything different before this erg test than other previous ones?"
I did everything normally, if not better than before other erg tests. I don't know why this happened.
The only thing I can think of is that I pushed my body completely and utterly outside of its comfort zone. And past its acceptable point of exhaustion.
Finally, (this is so weird and shows just how crazy I am) but as soon as I was feeling better and was leaving the training room (like an hour after the test), I thought, "Wow, I kind of want to do that again." Not the whole vomiting and "can't-remember-what-happened-to-me" thing, but the whole "pushing-myself-harder-than-I-ever-have-before" thing. You see, my dream is to be a marathon runner. So now, knowing that I ultimately crave this kind of pain and fatigue in my muscles and body, I know that I can and will achieve this dream.
Everything I went through this afternoon was worth it. Not only did I get my season personal record, but I got my all-time personal record!!! I'm so happy!! So welcome. Welcome to the world of college athletics where you put your body through hell just to achieve a certain number. And you do it willingly and happily. Over and over again.
A few weeks ago when I was talking to our assistant coach about running, she said, "Pain: you either hate it and learn push through it or you learn to love it."
And I think I've learned to love it.
As much as I joke, this was actually really scary.
It was last Friday. We had a 6,000 meter ergometer test. This is one of the most difficult things I do in my life. This is a test where you push your body to its ultimate limit of exhaustion.....and then beyond that. Literally. You'll see. An ergometer is a rowing machine. I'm sure you've seen it in the gym. Maybe you've even hopped on it and pulled on the handle for a few minutes. But there is no possible way that you have EVER experienced the pain of an erg test. We do these multiple times a year. Stressful and painful, I always feel completely shitty and totally awesome at the same time whenever I finish. I think it has something to do with how crazy I am and the fact that I love pain in my muscles and body. Huh.
Anyway, I prepared myself all week by eating extremely healthy and getting a lot of sleep. I drank tons of water and even counted my fat, protein, and carbohydrate gram intake for a few days. (Crazy, yes.) I made sure I ate enough. But nothing could prepare me for what was going to happen during this erg test.
I started off strong. I was pounding out each stroke. I was so fit. I was flying. I was doing better than I had anticipated. Around the 3,000 meter mark, I started feeling sick to my stomach. Only half-way through and I felt like I was going to vom. It wasn't nausea caused by food; rather, it was the lactic acid that had built up in my legs and had finally made its way to my stomach. This is where you hit your anarobic threshold and your body needs to stop doing what it's doing. "Great," I thought. "Only half-way done and my body is already telling me that it has had enough and I need to stop immediately." But I couldn't stop. I was in the middle of a test. And there was no way I was quitting, even if my body was telling me that it was getting sick.
I'm coming up to the last 500 meters when all of a sudden I get tunnel vision. I can barely see anything in front of me. Yet, somehow, I still keep going as fast as I possibly can. "I'm almost finished with this MOFO test and there is NO WAY that I'm quitting. Even if I can't see." A few of my teammates are cheering behind me to sprint as fast as I can in order to get the best possible time. I'm doing everything in my power to stay conscious and finish the test.
I don't remember the last 200 meters (roughly one minute). I don't remember finishing. I know I didn't pass out, but I don't remember if I fell to the ground, stood up, or what. One of my teammates was there and helped me get off the erg (I only remember this because she was still with me about 20 minutes later and told me). I was so hot. I couldn't stand to be inside, but I couldn't walk either. She helped me walk outside where I immediately began vomiting and fell to the ground. I lost control of my entire body and couldn't talk, couldn't see, and (this is kind of embarrassing) began going to the bathroom. I completely lost control of my entire body as a result of this test. They had to pour water all over me to try to get my body temperature to decrease. But I was still so hot. And couldn't move.
And my heart rate was still at 190. This is 190 beats per minute. AKA, this is your heart rate when you are running/erging/whatever at your absolute hardest. But I had stopped doing any cardio 10 minutes ago. My heart rate should have slowed back to normal within 2 minutes of stopping. Something was very wrong.
I was still vomiting. I was still on the ground. Two of my teammates were looking at me like they had seen a ghost. They had. "Haley, you're so pale. You're as white as a sheet! You need some help. We need to go to the training room immediately." But I still couldn't walk. I could barely keep my eyes open. My teammate had to walk me to the training room, taking 10 minutes for a 2 minute walk.
We are about 100 meters away from the door when my entire arm begins to go numb. I had remained calm and didn't really feel like anything was wrong (weird, I know) until I couldn't feel a part of my body. I immediately begin freaking out. My teammate gets even more concerned. She runs to open the door and I slowly saunter through. We make it down the stairs and I'm on the verge of tears. I don't know what's going on. But I feel so sick. And I'm so hot that I can barely stand it. We finally make it downstairs and I lay down on the ground. I don't have enough energy to remain standing. I was so hot, but I wasn't sweating. My body was on fire. My teammate runs to get more water and begins pouring water all over me in the hallway. My trainer finally comes out to see what's going on and coaxes me into the training room and gets me to lay down and drink some water and Gatorade. I immediately begin throwing it up. My body can't handle anything at this point. She talks to me and helps me relax and gives me some medicine and electrolytes to rehydrate my body and get my blood sugar back to normal. I can finally down some Gatorade.
"Did you eat enough today? Did you sleep enough last night? What have you been doing all week? Did you do anything different before this erg test than other previous ones?"
I did everything normally, if not better than before other erg tests. I don't know why this happened.
The only thing I can think of is that I pushed my body completely and utterly outside of its comfort zone. And past its acceptable point of exhaustion.
Finally, (this is so weird and shows just how crazy I am) but as soon as I was feeling better and was leaving the training room (like an hour after the test), I thought, "Wow, I kind of want to do that again." Not the whole vomiting and "can't-remember-what-happened-to-me" thing, but the whole "pushing-myself-harder-than-I-ever-have-before" thing. You see, my dream is to be a marathon runner. So now, knowing that I ultimately crave this kind of pain and fatigue in my muscles and body, I know that I can and will achieve this dream.
Everything I went through this afternoon was worth it. Not only did I get my season personal record, but I got my all-time personal record!!! I'm so happy!! So welcome. Welcome to the world of college athletics where you put your body through hell just to achieve a certain number. And you do it willingly and happily. Over and over again.
A few weeks ago when I was talking to our assistant coach about running, she said, "Pain: you either hate it and learn push through it or you learn to love it."
And I think I've learned to love it.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Peace.
My goal for the rest of this semester is to be more peaceful.
And so far, it's working.
I'm happier, calmer, and generally more at peace with how things are going. Nothing in my life has changed, but my outlook on it has. And it's making all the difference.
I had a realization last Saturday. I was sitting at my desk writing about things when I realized that I was doing the equivalent of hitting my head against a wall. Over and over again. And it really hurt. Yet, I couldn't stop doing it. I was convinced that maybe the wall would give in to the force of my head. Surprise, surprise: it didn't. And it never will.
I'm all about control. I need to have control over every little thing in my life. Did you know that it's impossible to control everything that happens to you?! I know--crazy! Who knew?
I used to be so obsessed with school. If I didn't get an A, my life was over. OVER. I had failed. Disappointed myself and everyone I knew. (((See how ridiculous I was?))) After earning my first C on a midterm (followed immediately by my second C), I realized that sometimes you just don't always get what you strive for. Does that mean you're a bad person? No. Does that mean you didn't try your hardest? No. It just means you weren't as prepared as you thought you were. It means that you had other things to do that week that were higher on your priority list. And rightfully so.
School is important, yes, but so is your happiness. And enjoying life. If you spend your entire college career with your head stuck in a book trying to get a 4.0, then you aren't taking advantage of college. It's a time for growing. Changing. Loving yourself and experiencing life. Grades are important, yes, but your future employer also wants a wholesome, confident, and happy person working for them.
Therefore, when I saw my two C's this week, I sat back and accepted them fully into my life. Imperfection. Perfectly natural. (I haven't completely gone granola-girl on you---I immediately took inventory of my other grades to see that my GPA wouldn't suffer too bad.) And it won't. Yes, it's going to take a little hit this semester, but that's the price I'm going to pay for this amount of growth and understanding. And acceptance.
So I've removed my hands from the wall, pulled my head away, and taken a step back. What do you know? The wall is still there. I hadn't made a dent. All I had accomplished was a raging headache and disappointment. So I'm going a different route. I'm walking down the hall and going through that open door. Because, sometimes, you just can't force things. You can't always blaze your own path. Sometimes you have to take the options given to you and make the best decision you can. Does that mean you're being apathetic and letting life lead you? No. It means that you need to relax. Calm down. And accept what life has to offer. Because most of the time (if not all the time) its offer is even better than what you could have planned for yourself.
And now, one of my favorite artists. I am lucky enough to get to see him perform tonight.
Joshua Radin--Streetlight. Official website: http://us.joshuaradin.com/
And so far, it's working.
I'm happier, calmer, and generally more at peace with how things are going. Nothing in my life has changed, but my outlook on it has. And it's making all the difference.
I had a realization last Saturday. I was sitting at my desk writing about things when I realized that I was doing the equivalent of hitting my head against a wall. Over and over again. And it really hurt. Yet, I couldn't stop doing it. I was convinced that maybe the wall would give in to the force of my head. Surprise, surprise: it didn't. And it never will.
I'm all about control. I need to have control over every little thing in my life. Did you know that it's impossible to control everything that happens to you?! I know--crazy! Who knew?
I used to be so obsessed with school. If I didn't get an A, my life was over. OVER. I had failed. Disappointed myself and everyone I knew. (((See how ridiculous I was?))) After earning my first C on a midterm (followed immediately by my second C), I realized that sometimes you just don't always get what you strive for. Does that mean you're a bad person? No. Does that mean you didn't try your hardest? No. It just means you weren't as prepared as you thought you were. It means that you had other things to do that week that were higher on your priority list. And rightfully so.
School is important, yes, but so is your happiness. And enjoying life. If you spend your entire college career with your head stuck in a book trying to get a 4.0, then you aren't taking advantage of college. It's a time for growing. Changing. Loving yourself and experiencing life. Grades are important, yes, but your future employer also wants a wholesome, confident, and happy person working for them.
Therefore, when I saw my two C's this week, I sat back and accepted them fully into my life. Imperfection. Perfectly natural. (I haven't completely gone granola-girl on you---I immediately took inventory of my other grades to see that my GPA wouldn't suffer too bad.) And it won't. Yes, it's going to take a little hit this semester, but that's the price I'm going to pay for this amount of growth and understanding. And acceptance.
So I've removed my hands from the wall, pulled my head away, and taken a step back. What do you know? The wall is still there. I hadn't made a dent. All I had accomplished was a raging headache and disappointment. So I'm going a different route. I'm walking down the hall and going through that open door. Because, sometimes, you just can't force things. You can't always blaze your own path. Sometimes you have to take the options given to you and make the best decision you can. Does that mean you're being apathetic and letting life lead you? No. It means that you need to relax. Calm down. And accept what life has to offer. Because most of the time (if not all the time) its offer is even better than what you could have planned for yourself.
And now, one of my favorite artists. I am lucky enough to get to see him perform tonight.
Joshua Radin--Streetlight. Official website: http://us.joshuaradin.com/
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