ZEgypt
I may not have had much of interest to report lately, but luckily my family likes to keep things interesting. For example, right now my younger brother Zack is in Luxor, Egypt with a group of Penn State students digging in the dirt, doin' the archeology thing. Very cool. I created this blog for him: http://zelbutler.blogspot.com/
As for me, well the most exciting news in my life is that I did a five minute run (and when I say run I mean light jog) on the treadmill in physical therapy a few days ago. Which was for me very exciting. I thought nothing could knock the wind out of my sails.
And then I went back to work.
Lately nothing seems quite on track. Not in the usual, too-busy-to-really-think-about-it way. But in a more, what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life-anyway way.
What was supposed to FINALLY be a good job for me -- actually working as a writer and an editor (albeit, at a law firm) -- lasted about two good weeks before the honeymoon ended. Apparently the job description for writer and editor for the marketing department of a national law firm is rather ambiguous. I say this becuase I have spent the last two weeks planning an event for a nonprofit organization of which one of the partners in our firm is president-elect. I have been kept very busy designing invitations, creating mailing lists, forming committees, and basically doing everything but writing and editing. The hours are long, the stress levels are high -- it's all the things I was promised this new position would not be.
Needless to say, I am less than happy.
And on top of that, I am discovering that one of the joys of being an editor -- on those rare occassions when I actually get to edit something -- is that everyone who finished 8th grade English believes that not only are they qualified to edit written materials, but that are better at it than I am. I am constantly having to defend my editorial choices. And I'm not talking about major choices, like whether to run the Abu Garaibh pictures. Use of the "em" dash (you mean the long one, right -- the one longer than a hyphen, they say to me -- yes, I say, it's longer than a hyphen, but it's also longer than an "en" dash. Much the way that the letter m takes up more space than the letter n, I say to them), or my decision NOT to use the serial comma (insert jokes about serial killers and cereal commas here), and explaining that, no matter how you write it, in the phrase "six years of experience" the word "years" NEVER ends in an apostrophe s. Six year's of experience? Last week I had a designer tell me that she heard that we had a new editor and that that person did NOT put a comma before the and in a series of three or more, which was absolutely WRONG and she had a grammar book that proved it. (Well, if she has a grammar book...) And when I told her that I was said editor, she didn't back down. On the contrary. She argued with me about it and offered to photo copy the pages of the grammar book for me to see. I stupidly tried to defend myself (as if there is any way to defend yourself against someone with a grammar book!) and wound up saying something to the effect of "I'm not an idiot and I wouldn't make a choice that would make the firm look bad." I'm sure the fact that I felt that I had to defend myself only proved to her that I was as careless with punctuation as she had suspected. The other day I had to explain to a partner that, although it is true that p.m. technically means "after noon," most people do understand that 12:00 p.m. means noon and that we needn't worry about it confusing people. But I went to Catholic school! she explained.
I have no argument for that.
Aside from that, I'm doing just peachy. I have gained about 20 pounds since breaking my foot, and though I'm dieting and getting some exercise now that I'm more mobile, it's harder than ever to lose the weight. I guess since I'm older than I've ever been and just came out of a period of months where I was lazier than I've ever been, it makes sense. Still -- very frustrating and very distracting. To top that off, I've got some mysterious rash on my FACE (in case I wasn't feeling unattractive enough) that won't go away.
So let's talk about dating. The fun has just gone out of dating for me. Oh, wait... that statement can't really be true, since I've never really seen the fun in dating. I've always found it to be at least a little painful (although sometimes more than a bit entertaining -- like the guy who told me that he felt strongly that the government should bring back public executions -- because it would be good for the children). This year, though, I decided to take the on-line dating thing very seriously -- to really "put myself out there" (mainly so that the next time someone told me that I just needed to put myself out there, I could show them my profiles on 16 different internet dating sites -- is that out there enough for you?).
But then I broke my foot, gained 20 pounds and got a rash on my face. And I hate my job and don't know what the hell I'm doing with my life. Not exactly the ideal time to be meeting potential life-partners. "Hi. I'm Joanna. I don't usually look like this. I'm usually 20 pounds thinner, though even then I'm usually still trying to lose about 10 pounds. I don't always have little red spots all over my chin and I'm hoping the tetracycline kicks in soon. I'm not always quite this negative about where my life is going. And I don't usually walk with a limp. And if you can bare with me for two or three months, I'm sure I'll be well on my way to recovery. And if not, I'll just see if they can adjust my meds."
I've been on a couple of dates recently, against my better judgement, and other than the one that went terribly wrong, they weren't complete nightmares. But seriously, this just isn't the time for it.
I'm trying to focus now on things that have nothing to do with me. Hoping that if I stop thinking about all of it the answer will just hit me between the eyes. Today I went to see the new Al Gore movie "An Inconvenient Truth" -- very good. But truly terrifying. Exactly what I needed. Global Warming -- much easier to deal with than my mysterious rash. And it was fun being in an audience where after watching a preview for a movie about crossword puzzles, everyone in the theater turned to the person they were with and said "I HAVE to see that movie." Ah, Manhattan...
Anyway, I'm also reading Anderson Cooper's new book, Dispatches from the Edge. It's the perfect cure. I am no longer distracted with my weight problem or with the fact that I don't have a good job or a love life -- or a life at all. It's all about war and natural disasters and real tragedy that makes my problems look like a day at the beach and a sunday in the park all wrapped up in a silver lining. And even better than that, I've found my true love. First thing tomorrow, I plan to start stalking Anderson Cooper immediately. I see nothing on the book jacket about him living with a wife or girlfriend or partner, so I'm assuming he's available. Now I just need to find his home address...
Meanwhile, I'll just have to settle for his 360 show on CNN and his occassional appearances on Oprah.
Anyway, here I am, Saturday night at home, updating my blog. Forget Carrie Bradshaw -- this is what the single life in New York is really like.
Living the Dream.
As for me, well the most exciting news in my life is that I did a five minute run (and when I say run I mean light jog) on the treadmill in physical therapy a few days ago. Which was for me very exciting. I thought nothing could knock the wind out of my sails.
And then I went back to work.
Lately nothing seems quite on track. Not in the usual, too-busy-to-really-think-about-it way. But in a more, what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life-anyway way.
What was supposed to FINALLY be a good job for me -- actually working as a writer and an editor (albeit, at a law firm) -- lasted about two good weeks before the honeymoon ended. Apparently the job description for writer and editor for the marketing department of a national law firm is rather ambiguous. I say this becuase I have spent the last two weeks planning an event for a nonprofit organization of which one of the partners in our firm is president-elect. I have been kept very busy designing invitations, creating mailing lists, forming committees, and basically doing everything but writing and editing. The hours are long, the stress levels are high -- it's all the things I was promised this new position would not be.
Needless to say, I am less than happy.
And on top of that, I am discovering that one of the joys of being an editor -- on those rare occassions when I actually get to edit something -- is that everyone who finished 8th grade English believes that not only are they qualified to edit written materials, but that are better at it than I am. I am constantly having to defend my editorial choices. And I'm not talking about major choices, like whether to run the Abu Garaibh pictures. Use of the "em" dash (you mean the long one, right -- the one longer than a hyphen, they say to me -- yes, I say, it's longer than a hyphen, but it's also longer than an "en" dash. Much the way that the letter m takes up more space than the letter n, I say to them), or my decision NOT to use the serial comma (insert jokes about serial killers and cereal commas here), and explaining that, no matter how you write it, in the phrase "six years of experience" the word "years" NEVER ends in an apostrophe s. Six year's of experience? Last week I had a designer tell me that she heard that we had a new editor and that that person did NOT put a comma before the and in a series of three or more, which was absolutely WRONG and she had a grammar book that proved it. (Well, if she has a grammar book...) And when I told her that I was said editor, she didn't back down. On the contrary. She argued with me about it and offered to photo copy the pages of the grammar book for me to see. I stupidly tried to defend myself (as if there is any way to defend yourself against someone with a grammar book!) and wound up saying something to the effect of "I'm not an idiot and I wouldn't make a choice that would make the firm look bad." I'm sure the fact that I felt that I had to defend myself only proved to her that I was as careless with punctuation as she had suspected. The other day I had to explain to a partner that, although it is true that p.m. technically means "after noon," most people do understand that 12:00 p.m. means noon and that we needn't worry about it confusing people. But I went to Catholic school! she explained.
I have no argument for that.
Aside from that, I'm doing just peachy. I have gained about 20 pounds since breaking my foot, and though I'm dieting and getting some exercise now that I'm more mobile, it's harder than ever to lose the weight. I guess since I'm older than I've ever been and just came out of a period of months where I was lazier than I've ever been, it makes sense. Still -- very frustrating and very distracting. To top that off, I've got some mysterious rash on my FACE (in case I wasn't feeling unattractive enough) that won't go away.
So let's talk about dating. The fun has just gone out of dating for me. Oh, wait... that statement can't really be true, since I've never really seen the fun in dating. I've always found it to be at least a little painful (although sometimes more than a bit entertaining -- like the guy who told me that he felt strongly that the government should bring back public executions -- because it would be good for the children). This year, though, I decided to take the on-line dating thing very seriously -- to really "put myself out there" (mainly so that the next time someone told me that I just needed to put myself out there, I could show them my profiles on 16 different internet dating sites -- is that out there enough for you?).
But then I broke my foot, gained 20 pounds and got a rash on my face. And I hate my job and don't know what the hell I'm doing with my life. Not exactly the ideal time to be meeting potential life-partners. "Hi. I'm Joanna. I don't usually look like this. I'm usually 20 pounds thinner, though even then I'm usually still trying to lose about 10 pounds. I don't always have little red spots all over my chin and I'm hoping the tetracycline kicks in soon. I'm not always quite this negative about where my life is going. And I don't usually walk with a limp. And if you can bare with me for two or three months, I'm sure I'll be well on my way to recovery. And if not, I'll just see if they can adjust my meds."
I've been on a couple of dates recently, against my better judgement, and other than the one that went terribly wrong, they weren't complete nightmares. But seriously, this just isn't the time for it.
I'm trying to focus now on things that have nothing to do with me. Hoping that if I stop thinking about all of it the answer will just hit me between the eyes. Today I went to see the new Al Gore movie "An Inconvenient Truth" -- very good. But truly terrifying. Exactly what I needed. Global Warming -- much easier to deal with than my mysterious rash. And it was fun being in an audience where after watching a preview for a movie about crossword puzzles, everyone in the theater turned to the person they were with and said "I HAVE to see that movie." Ah, Manhattan...
Anyway, I'm also reading Anderson Cooper's new book, Dispatches from the Edge. It's the perfect cure. I am no longer distracted with my weight problem or with the fact that I don't have a good job or a love life -- or a life at all. It's all about war and natural disasters and real tragedy that makes my problems look like a day at the beach and a sunday in the park all wrapped up in a silver lining. And even better than that, I've found my true love. First thing tomorrow, I plan to start stalking Anderson Cooper immediately. I see nothing on the book jacket about him living with a wife or girlfriend or partner, so I'm assuming he's available. Now I just need to find his home address...
Meanwhile, I'll just have to settle for his 360 show on CNN and his occassional appearances on Oprah.
Anyway, here I am, Saturday night at home, updating my blog. Forget Carrie Bradshaw -- this is what the single life in New York is really like.
Living the Dream.
posted by jolott at
7:25 PM
|
2 comments
