yes i am becoming a crazy cat lady. its hereditary im afraid.

also, the cat likes to sit on the new scale (first one i've ever owned, i don't think my "i don't care how much I weigh" attitude holds much weight (hehehe) anymore). she weighs 7 pounds and is happy with her svelte physique. of course, she eats bugs and runs around like a maniac all day, and eats like 1/2 of her dish a day, with a side of milk..and the bugs, of course. i might weigh 7 pounds too with that diet.

lets get physical! physical!

So I have been working out after week for 2 weeks now, consistently, for the first time in over a year. yay! i didn't want to announce until it was safe. kinda like the baby thing. but not as serious. by far. since I'm the only one who reads this thing anyway, I figure I will add an excercise and diet diary. why go through the hassle of making myself a chart, i've got my blog. i was worried I was going to have to change the name of this site to obese vita there for a minute, so i got to say i'm pretty proud of myself and my new endeavor. today I ate like a virtuous-type person, I went to the gym and did weights for the legs and half an hour on the elliptal (Set to kill me now level), AND I started my period today, so the sweating was nicely offset by the mind boggling cramps. and...drum roll...in the inaugural entry of the ima gonna lose weight and look hot in a bikini blog, i weigh, today...132 pounds. my goal weight is 2001 weight, which is 118. I would be ok with 110. im only 5'3" ya know. and in my other measure of success, my favoritist size 2 jeans..well, i can pull them up and button them, and this is good. now they just need a little room, so as not to be obscene and all.
except for the 132 thing (which is soo gonna change so quick, what with all this exhuberance and energy and I HAVE NO TIME TO EAT CAUSE IM WORKING WAY TOO MUCH) i feel great. whoo!
im not gonna do this everyday. the one person besides me that is maybe reading this..yeah you get an update every three days! and no sooner! unless i magically drop like 20 pounds in a day and then ill tell ya all about it, and how it was that i caught that pnemonia or got food poisoning or whatever.

A PSA from Obtuse Vita

Attention everyone:
When communicating with me, DO NOT USE "ur" when you mean "your".
Thankyouverymuch.

phones and beaches

i'm pretty protective of my time, and very protective of my level of relative comfort. i don't usually answer phone calls when I don't recognize the number. that's what my voice mail is there for. last night, i think my radar was a bit off.. i DID NOT answer the phone when the caller was inviting me to tastee diner with himself, sister, and brother in law, but I DID answer the phone for drunken ex-boyfriend to express love and slurred affection. if it was saturday night and i made this grave mistake i'd be pretty pissy.
on a completely different note, i want to go to the beach! i haven't been to the beach in 2 years, except for about an hour at the beach at Krissy Field in San Francisco earlier this month. I shouldn't discount that. But I want a real, Ocean City, Skee-Ball and bonfires, memorial day picnic kinda beach trip. its maryland's only redeeming quality.

not frugal

so now I'm comparing Safari and Firefox and I have been using them both at random, along with ie for the mac (craptastic) for annoying work apps that refuse to work on real browsers. i feel wasteful. safari...or firefox...safari...or...the debate continues

does this mean no $4 starbucks lattes?

woke up this morning to a perfect may day and decided to call my parents, see what they were up to. my mom invited me over to just hang out - asked me to bring my cat, Tasha. My mother is in love with my cat, i think, and it doesnt hurt that her cat is in love with my cat, too. so I packed ms. tash up and drove on over, where I proceded to have a lovely lunch, sit in the sunshine, watch the cats play in the garden, and shoot the shit with my parents. the usual conversation. my problems, their advise. priceless, it is. and then this shocker..they offered to pay for me to live...ANYWHERE in the country that is as much as or less expensive than DC (this knocks out only San Francisco and New York), and go back to school. why? I don't know. but isnt that amazing? the only thing I have to figure out is where, when, and holy shit can I go back to being a full-time student dependant on student loans and my folks without losing my damn mind at 27? I have until july to figure it out. wow. wow. OMFG wow.

leonard maltin

for the first time in my life, i just watched a movie, and IMMEDIATELY wanted to watch it again. and I am a harsh critic of movies. therefore, go rent spanglish RIGHT NOW

mother

currently having mu usual friday night dinner of sashimi and wine. and watching spanglish. excellent, excellent movie. especially after watching ROTS last night. and its got me thinking about my mother. about how the thing i want to know most about my mother is how she felt when she knew she wanted to marry my father. how she felt on her wedding day. on the day she found out she was pregnant for the first time with my sister. how she felt when myh father betrayed her. how she forgave him. i'm going to call her in the morning and ask her to dinner and procede to scare the holy bejesus out of her with this line of questioning. but then, i HAVE had three glasses of wine, so who knows.

The problem is I am not an actual DC resident. stupid suburbia.

The title of this blog caught my attention, cause honestly, I'm not much of a fan right now either. But its not nearly as hostile in my case. Just...itchy.

me

me,
originally uploaded by saralyn.

This is me, in 2003.

she's got it.. yeah baby, she's got it

Oh I opened a flickr account
and I learned how to link to stuff
And its only just begun. Self-taught internet guru-ing ROCKS! bring on the weekend, murky, and the ibook G4 (bitches, making me wanna spend money).

The internets go to washington

I am not good at being mistaken. I abhor being anything but 100% absolutely knowledgeable and right right right! (oh the state of the world, I write right three times and now I feel all red-statey. Im so blue, trust me. see, forced disclamer).
So, nothing could have ruffled my feathers more than the following conversation:

On the TV: POTUS is speaking about something involving war, social security, or the rapture, etc.. and says something about..."the internets"

Me: *giggle* internets. dumbass
Freakishly genius CS guru A.: actually, the plural is much more accurate.
Me: (shit) oh. yeah. i guess (no idea what i'm talking about)

Let me make fun of the man, DAYUM!! it's all I have!

mojito-fest '05

for the first time in a long time my work load is not oppressive here at the big-ass consulting firm (motto: we do all the work so the government can keep employing incompetant people!), so I may actually be posting a bit. yay!

yesterday was one of those really good days. it was 85 degrees. around 3 I got the urge for an apres-work beverage al fresco. it was decided that a group of friends would go to coastal flats.
if you are lucky enough to live in northern virginia (err, right, lucky) you may be aware of this coastal flats place. if not, thats okay. all you need to know is they make the best damn mojitos. rum. sugar. limes. mint..all nicely topped off with a big stick of sugar cane. too easy to drink.
from this point forward, i shall refer to yesterday as 'Mojito-Fest '05'. they were that good. yes, i drank 5, and its okay. im alright with that. it was that first day of spring where you feel like its on..the weather is warm, the sun is shining, mellow mood has got ya, friends and attractive folk all around. so perfect.
i ran into an ex-thingy - he's not an ex-boyfriend, cause he was never a boyfriend, just a 'thingy'. he looked good. he's just as much too young for me as he was then. he likes to tell me i think i'm soooo indy. heh.
well today its 60 degrees and raining and generally shite. good thing i got my mojito consumption in yesterday. oh yeah and I clinked a glass to 4/20. in honor of my inner 18-year-old pothead.

by the way - you commenters? i don't know how you got here but dang it, i like you. stay, keep reading, link to me, get ON IT! and thank you!

bitchin, moanin

10 things to bitch about

1) this one was bullshit
2) My writing is shite and I don't do it enough, which is partly why it is shite
3) I have homework to do and I am procrastinating as usual
4) I feel bad because the cat really wants to go out but i live on a busy street
5) I don't feel sexy anymore i do again
6) I want to touch the naked body of a man I love hehe i did, but i still want to again
7) I want to live somewhere else but I am too scattered to put together a plan
8) I don't have enough money to travel so I can figure out where that somewhere else is. I only know it is on a coast and has good bookstores and coffee shops and unlike DC is not depressing as all hell. and it is called san francisco
9) I am going to be 27 in two weeks and my mom and dad still give me money occasionally, and I need it
10) My former boss's boss is only 29

roam if you want to

i'm feeling restless and nomadic. I just caught myself walking down the hall at work whistling...'if you're going to San Francisco..' oh no. oh yes.

to sleep, perchance?..oh no, i know im gonna dream

im sick and freakin tired of dreaming about the ex-boy. i feel like drew barrymore at the end of 50 first dates.

well not that wtf...

actually, upon reading that post, I realize that that dream was quite easily explained. I feel like the reason my relationship ended was that i wasnt fully there, 'in the game' if you will. I felt ashamed of my actions (wrong shoes) and self conscious (wrong shoes). And I want him to give me a second chance (I cant change things). Not sure why the ex girlfriend though.

I had a bad dream just before my alarm clock woke me up this morning. I was at some sort of resort camp type thing and there was a friendly game of basketball going on...except it wasnt that friendly. It was the varsity girls squad of my high school. Regardless, I decided I would go out and play. But I didnt have the right shoes.
I was at this resort thing with my recently ex-boyfriend. He really wanted me to play basketball for some reason. I told him I didnt have the right shoes. This apparently was not acceptable, and he got very mad and left.

Let me say at this point that I was terrified of going out to play basketball with the varsity squad in shoes that were wrong - not style wrong - the soles were wrong and would make me slip on the court.

So I suck it up and go over to the bleachers and sit with the team. I explain that I have the wrong shoes. It is okay that I have the wrong shoes, they say. They will take me to get the right shoes and until then I can watch and listen.

In my dream, I am overjoyed. I run to tell the boyfriend (we are apparently not ex yet in my dream) and run smack into him dressed for the pool with his ex girlfriend (whom I know, and used to live with). But I joined the team! I protest. Ex girlfriend takes one look at me and runs off, boyfriend looks upset and says, Im sorry, I made a mistake, but I cant change things now.

WTF!!!???!!!

midnight train to georgia...

its midnight, its a worknight, and i cant sleep. well, i slept fine from 7-9 or so. anyway. I was just sitting in bed, thinking. and then crying. i thought i was done with the crying. and then, my dear cat, who was purring whilst curled in the nook of my armpit, sat up, reached a paw out, and bit my cheek. hard. i love my cat.

for my sister, on the 'BIG THREE OH'

My sister will be turning 30 next week. This marks a turning point in the history of us, two daughters. When we were little, and even into adolescene, we would, from time to time, remark on the three year difference between us and what that would mean as the years passed. When you're 15, I'll be 12, I would say. Yeah! And when I'm 18, you'll be 15, she would reply. The granddaddy of legal age, when she was 21, I would be 18 - full access to anything we pleased. When she was 25, I would be 22! Well, we never, not once, went past 'When I'm 27, you'll be 30!'. That combination seemed so far away that we probably thought it would never actually happen. Well, it has. Next Thursday, my big sister will be 30, and I will be 27 in another two months.
There's a curiosity to aging that has occured to me recently. I've always practiced the time honored tradition of breaking something into smaller parts to make it easier. You have an eight hour work day and youre exhausted? Take a five minute break every hour - itll go faster if you deal with 60 minutes at a time. On the treadmill for half an hour? Change the display to give you one section of the hill at a time - who cant deal with 45 seconds? Quitting smoking? One day at a time.
The curious thing is that we divide the one thing we dont want to pass...at all..into neat little segments, which we then celebrate. Why is the anniversary of our birth something we would want to keep counting, so obviously, watching the number grow? Why do we segment into decades with such devotion, while we approach those milestones with fear?
Many people I've talked to over the years mark their thirties as the years they learn to love themselves. What a testament to the complexity of mankind, that it takes THIRTY YEARS to be comfortable with yourself, to start to understand why you are who you are and to come to accept and love that person. I'm not scared of being thirty.
So to my sister, on her birthday, I wish this... Stop counting if only for a while. Look forward to acceptance of yourself. Enjoy, no all out love, that thirty years of you have happened to the world, to me, to our parents. And once in a while, act like we're 5 and 2, or 10 and 7, or 15 and 12, or, god forbid, 21 and 18, but know that we have never been happier.
Happy Birthday!