Failure

I read an article that really stuck with me this week.  It was about failure and how hard we are on ourselves sometimes.  Whoever wrote it made a brilliant comparison between what we tell ourselves when we fail, and how we react to others' failures.  For instance, when a baby tries to talk, our normal reaction is "oh my goodness, you are so cute babbling along!" instead of "stupid baby, I can't believe you can't freakin' talk yet!"

For a long time, I've been struggling with weight.  In the past three weeks, I've lost 7 lbs. Then, I had a really great friend spend the weekend and I ate and drank whatever and proceeded to feel like a total fat failure.  In fact, I've viewed the past 7 years of dealing with weight has mostly a failure.  I did run a 1/2 marathon and I learned how to fight, but past that I've had a few good months but that's it.

Last night, with the article still tickling my neurons, I met up with some friends who haven't seen me in a long time.  I got the "you look great!" comment and immediately dismissed it.  C'mon people, can you not see I've been failing for 7 years!  Then I took a step back and decided to be a little nicer to myself and here is what I saw.

I started college as a size 22, so out of shape it was hard to walk up a hill, forget even walking a mile.  Since then, I've consistently gone down, albeit little by little.  I did run a half marathon, I've been in super good shape, and now I can run a mile and walk everywhere.  I am a size 16 now, I've taking responsibility for my eating habits and am making a very conscious effort to track calories, portion sizes and balance.  On Monday, I start at a gym again.

So taking that all into account, I guess I haven't really been failing.  Sure, my journey is not a fast one, no where near the contestants on "The Biggest Loser" and maybe no where near other people's.  But I'm not failing.

In the next four months, I'm going to focus on my mile time, my assisted pull-up weight and overall lb loss.  I made a calendar and am going to track those things weekly/bi-weekly.  My long term goals are a marathon, 40 lbs down and a pull-up by the end of November 2014.  I'll post updates now and then just to keep myself accountable and to remind myself that I'm not failing.

Because no one likes to fail, it's just a necessary part of life.  Without it, there can be no success.

Finding that "thing"

I've always loved writing, taking pictures, and doing artsy-type projects.  When I was growing up, I had these friends across the street and we would spend all day playing with the "Invisible Man", going on missions and trying to defeat the bad guys - it was all pretend.  Silly as that seems now, my imagination grew at a steady rate.

I've been plagued with a heavy dose of practicality, too.  Which means while I loved made up stories, art, and taking pictures, those were never my dream career goals.  I went to college for business.  What's more practical than that?

Now in my mid-twenties, my imagination is trying to punch through my skull, screaming "I'm still in here!  I make you happy when you exercise me!  DO SOMETHING WITH ME!"  My practical side is fighting back, saying things like "there are so many people in the world doing photography, writing, arts & crafts, you'll never become good enough at anything because you'll get bored first.  Succeeding is hard.  Don't spend time and money with your imagination."

Well, that's my story anyway.

Lately, I've been jealous of my friend I follow on Instagram (insert huge hipster sigh here).  She takes great pictures and gets a ton of likes and followers.  My creative side is so green with envy.  I told my bff and she said "you can do that, just do it too!" but inside, I know that photography only interests me slightly.  I know how to take a good picture, and every once in awhile, I go on a photohunt, or take "artistic" pictures of things, but I hate editing photos and honestly, I get bored quickly.  I also get really frustrated when I can't get the shot I want.

So, what's my "thing" - that thing that I choose to get good at, to practice and develop over my life time so my imaginative side doesn't shrivel up and die?

Back in September, my boo and I went to the shore and ended up meeting a writer on the beach (I'd post a link back, but the post isn't worth it).  She told me if I wanted to write, to just do it.  Using her dreams as inspiration, she had published a lot of stories.

Lo and behold, last night, I had a dream I think I can actually produce a good story from.  As soon as I got up this morning, I started taking notes and doing research.  That has never happened before.  (I always thought the only novelists who did research were the non-fiction writers.)

Maybe writing is my thing.  If I keep in mind it's supposed to be fun and for me, perhaps that's the answer.  That's why I started blogging again in the first place.  Practice, practice, practice.  We shall see what emerges from these deep dark mid-twenties time.

New York Eve

That last post was terrible.  For some reason, I needed to have my 250th post on New Year's Day.  I was hungover and not feeling terribly "share-y" or reflective.  I didn't even feel the need to talk about how I spent NYE in Brooklyn and Manhattan!

My friend lives in Brooklyn in old, comfy, and roomy apartment   She shares the space with two other people; the roommate I met is middle-aged, of the crazy cat lady persuasion.  At 2 a.m., she came out of her room saying "don't worry you didn't wake me up, but I just want to see if I can get you guys anything."  She proceeded to hang out and talk to us for about 20 minutes, trying to make us food and telling us stories.  We were all just so tired and drunk, bed was the only thing on our minds.

To be fair, the crazy cat lady didn't come out at 2 a.m. saying "you damn kids making all that racket, how dare you!"

Before all that, we arrived in Brooklyn around 4 p.m. and had to come up with a plan.  My thoughts of spending NYE in any of the five boroughs has always been super crowded, really expensive, and not that fun.  Planning our night that afternoon seemed like it was going to fulfill what I was imagining.  Everyplace was sold out of tickets, or not letting people in until 11 p.m.  Not only were we looking for plans of our little group of 5, other people would be meeting us later.  Extra pressure!

We ended up with two options:  an 80s themed bar in Brooklyn, really close to the apartment, or meeting some different friends in Lower Manhattan who already had seats at the bar.

For many reasons, we ended up taking the G & C to Manhattan.

When we first walked into Ulysses, I had my doubts.  It was crowded and we ended up standing in a "hallway" type area which was only wide enough for one person, so when people tried to walk by, there was a lot of up-close-and-personal touching.  But, we had a great bartender, and in the first 15 minutes I had a beer and three shots.  After that, I really started having fun!

Everyone was really nice and friends paid for a lot of our drinks.  I couldn't believe it when we were already counting down the time!  After the clock switched to midnight, everyone sang along to Frank Sinatra's "New York New York".  Honestly, it was the best New Years I've had in awhile.

Let me say this:  I was wrong.  I do not know everything.  I am only 24 years old and not all of my preconceived notions are even close to being reality.  A good lesson to keep in mind for 2013.

I heart Chicago

The amount of stories I have to write about from this past week is staggering.  Unfortunately, in this age of "Omg, you have a blog and you wrote what you think about us? You're fired." Means I can write very little about my trip to Chicago.

Chicago is a great city.  This time, I actually got a chance to walk around and see the city, which is beautifully decorated for the holiday season.  There's a cupcake ATM, a lit up Trump Hotel, waterways through the city, and a clean, friendly feeling around the city.  I was able to visit my good friend Brittany again.  We've been friends since middle school, and being able to share memories and stories, old and new, over martinis is something I love.

The first stop we made after the hotel was the Blue Man Group show.  Way better and funnier than I thought it would be.  One of the girls in our group got pulled up onto stage which made it even more entertaining.

Next stop was dinner.  More on dinner below.

Next stop was the liquor store.  And boy, did we need it.

The rest of the trip was stressful and awkward, to say the least.  We worked out of our Chicago office when we weren't in training, and their connection is s....l........o..............w.  It was also cramped.  And loud, as there's no carpet or curtains or fabric of any kind absorbing noise.  However, the people that work there are awesome, so, some saving grace.

What I will say to the dinner awkwardness - imagine having dinner with 8 people, 4 of whom run the company and are oblivious to how utterly angry the other 4 people are at the table because of the way the first 4 treat the second 4.  Now, imagine the most important person being slightly intoxicated.  And asking hard and opened questions.  Whose answers cause arguments that attract attention from surrounding tables.

Now, imagine looking forward to that every single night of your trip.

If you can imagine that, you can understand why I now will stop talking about my long ass business trip to Chicago.

Stuck late at work, again.

In the industry I'm in, there are lots of RFI and RFQ posts we have to respond to.  These all have deadlines, most require us to overnight mail a big box full of documents.  (Yes, I think its a huge waste of resources when we have computers.)  So, we usually use the 7 p.m. deadline so we can drop the box off downstairs before the UPS guy comes and takes it.

Last night, it was 7 p.m. and we were not done.

Someone calls around, no mailing place is open except for FedEx a few blocks away.  We call, their driver will be there until 8:10, even though they close at 8.  At 8:02, I run out of the office with a box.

I realize how ridiculous I look, running down the Philadelphia sidewalks in a dress and boots, but I don't care.  This project doesn't get turned in, I'm going to be pissed.  Because I'm running.  And I look ridiculous.  And it's 8 p.m. and I'm still working.

I get there, the doors are locked,  I run around the building and find the FedEx van.  I get there, out of breath and ask the lady "can you take this box, it is all good?"

"Well ma'am, this is a UPS label."

"Oh...man..."

Never ending pause....

"Well, there's a UPS truck sometimes still loading just down the alley, let's go see if they are still there!"

I thank the lady profusely and wish her a happy Thanksgiving.  The UPS truck is abandoned, so I call back to my company.

"I found the FedEx truck, but it's a UPS label."

"So they took it, right?"

....

"No, but I'm at the UPS place now, can you call here and tell them I'm at their loading dock in front of their truck, please?"

___

Later when I got home, I just took a breath and said out loud, "that was absolutely ridiculous."  And I completely got how insane everything was that just happened.  Welcome to the real world.