New Year's Eve

So evidently 2009 is ending tonight. I'm not really sure where the past 365 days went, but that's what the calendar tells me.

I guess it's been a pretty eventuful year. During 2009 I graduated from college, got very tan, moved from California to Boston, (sadly) lost my tan, started my first real job... and then there are some other things I'd better not mention here.

I think the strangest part about 2010 will be not being a student anymore. Because in school, it seemed like every year was going to be different... different schedule, different things to be learned, different people to meet. And of course in school, you are working toward the ultimate goal of earning a degree. So it always seemed like graduation served as some kind of driving purpose behind the things I was doing, or at least some kind of reward at the end. But I'm not sure how I like post-graduated life. If getting a degree has been my goal for the past 4... 8?... or maybe even 16 years if you consider all those long years of education leading up to this point... then what is my goal supposed to be now? Because I have a job, and while I guess I'm glad not to be unemployed and bumming around right now, I can't say that the "real" world actually seems real or meaningful at all, or that I have any long-term goals related to this world. Maybe to survive through my first year at this job and come out with some kind of a personality in tact, but that's about it.

After that... well. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be waiting around for some kind of magical enlightening moment to occur where I suddenly become wise and understand the secrets of the world, or if I'm supposed to be figuring those out for myself. Personally I think it would be nice if a white owl named Hedwig would just come along and tell me.

Sometimes life seems like it's going to take a really, really long time. I'm pretty sure that it's not, and that I'll end up becoming one of those slightly annoying old ladies who goes around exclaiming how time has flown by. But right now I can't even imagine what it will be like to be 30, or 40, or maybe even 25. It's weird not to be measuring time in terms of academic years, or summer vacations, or whatever else I've been doing up til this point. Maybe everything is going to blur together now. I'm not sure if I like that.

Anyway. It looks like my sunny 60-degree Californian Christmas will be followed by a very cold, white New Year in Boston.

Remember to wear you red or yellow undies at midnight, depending on what you want the new year to bring. Red is for love, yellow is for wealth. Don't ask me where I got that from because I don't remember. Just do it.

No thanks.

I just saw a commercial suggesting that a GREAT gift for a new bride would be a basket filled with cleaning supplies.

Ummm....

When I get married, please do not get me a basket of cleaning supplies. Unless maybe it comes with a coupon for you to come over and clean. Thanks.

Dreams

Last night I had some pret-ty strange dreams.

I dreamt that I was on a boat, and in a raft, and floating in the ocean. Ironically, I floated into a forest at some point, and explored some old deserted houses, and then floated away again. It was a long night of floating and splashing. But I remember feeling completely happy and unrestricted and free by the end... who knew that floating could be so liberating?

I dreamt that Memorial day was the Monday after Thanksgiving. Except I mistakenly thought I had the day off when I didn't, so I accidentally missed work and spent the whole day floating. When I realized this mistake, I started frantically thinking that people were going to wonder why I hadn't been on Sametime all day.

I dreamt that my Blackberry was really, really, really big.

I woke up at 8 am and my mind told me to get up and go to work, because there was IT auditing to be done. And then I remembered that it was Thanksgiving and I told my mind to shut up and go back to sleep. So that's what I did. Happy Thanksgiving.

This Ain't a Dollhouse

What an irritating song. Slacker radio is awesome, though. It brings cheer to many a dull workday. (Found at www.slacker.com if you are also suffering through dreary days of work and require some musical cheer.)

Today someone was talking to me about skiing. She asked me if I knew how to ski, and then quickly followed with "I guess there probably aren't any mountains in California." Come on, Boston. Haven't you people ever heard of a little feat of nature called the Sierra Nevada mountain range?? It's kind of a big deal. And you thought Californians were bad at geography...

By the way, everybody one the East Coast skiis. I guess snowboarding hasn't made its way over here yet. Too bad. Nobody in California under the age of 40 skiis anymore. Well, mostly.

Today I had to wear gloves when I left work. Which makes it very hard to play with my Blackberry while waiting for the bus. Yes, I do finally own my very own Blackberry. It has an awful lot of buttons. But we are getting along nicely so far.

I discovered that a girl at work wrote on her blog almost a year ago about her "love/hate relationship with the idea of having a Blackberry." I swear I just saw this today. It was freaky. I'm almost positive that she has the same personality type as me. Which might explain why she's inside my head...

So tomorrow I intend to be very productive. Which I will then follow with four very unproductive days... also known as my Thanksgiving holiday break!!! No turkey for me this year. Just a hot date with my DVR and some much-needed time away from my life as a business-lady. I'm very excited.

My New Love/Hate Relationship

I joined the world of working adults a couple months ago and very quickly discovered the secret to being a businessman/businesswoman. You might be as disappointed as I was to find that it is not, in fact, some sort of elite wisdom about the world. The secret actually revolves around the obsession with a single all-powerful, all-knowing little device: the Blackberry. Thanks to this nifty little machine, there is no longer any such thing as work life or personal life. It's all crammed together in some kind of 24-hour portable cyber-life via the Blackberry.

At first I was a little bit horrified at this discovery, and I kept thinking how I never wanted to hand over my soul to this deathly little thing. Then after a few weeks, I decided that Blackberrys are actually sort of cute, and maybe even useful. I almost ordered one, but it fell through at the last minute. I took this as a sign that the Blackberry and I are just not destined to be together. And then I had a few really crummy weeks in Businessland, during which time I decided that Blackberrys are definitely an evil, unnatural creation, and I thanked the universe for not sending one my way. And then I was riding the bus yesterday when I saw a young, perfectly-nice-looking girl pull a titanium Blackberry Curve out of its cozy little pouch. It just looked so shiny and harmless. So I decided right then and there that I wanted one after all. The same one, actually. So now I've ordered one, thus beginning what will likely turn out to be a powerful love-hate relationship. Don't judge me.

I am, however, vowing to keep my work life away from the Blackberry. No work e-mail, no fancy over-priced internet plan, no co-workers ping'ing me at ungodly hours of the night. Just a fun, innocent toy to satisfy my love of texting and double as a backup alarm clock. (Let's hope I don't drop it on the ground like I did to my iPod on the way home today...)

By the way, I just discovered that there is a Facebook fan page called "I Text in Awkward Situations." Um I'm pretty sure I have done this. See, Blackberrys might be useful for something.

And also, I think I have made friends with bus driver who drives the 6:40 bus leaving from Copley Square. He's super nice and he waits very patiently while I fumble through my bag in the dark looking for my bus card. He even let me ride for free on day when I couldn't find it. Today I left work a little early and got on a different bus, but I saw Mr. 6:40 on his break and he waved at me. What a nice guy. Too bad the 6:12 bus driver is not nearly as friendly. He drives like a maniac and never waits for stragglers to get on. What a difference 28 minutes can make.