I appear put together, but I might be losing it

When I got home on Monday, a folder awaited me on the floor. In it, a request to answer more questions for an Indy company I submitted a resume to ... on which they would base their decision to bring me in for an interview.

Of course I was happy they were interested, but my mind raced with what to say to make sure I’d get into their office. I spent all last night on it ... walked to Kinko’s at 1:15 a.m. (even after some motherly questioning from Jen), and this morning it was ready to send off.

I wanted to feel relief that I completed it before their deadline. Relief that it was finished, and I could sit on my ass and relax after work for the rest of the week. Or just relief to not have to think about it.

That didn’t happen. Instead, the morning devolved into a signature Elaine-type moment. I walked to the post office, paid the man my postage and watched him toss the envelope back onto the mail counter.

Sitcom-style, I had flashes in my mind of all the things I wrote in response to their questions. Should I have put this? Should I have added that? Was it too much? Not enough? I can’t let this good career move slip away.

On Monday, I felt excitement they were giving me the chance to move up in their candidate list. On Tuesday, I was tired from the writing and making sure everything was perfect. And on Wednesday, I looked at it one last time on the counter feeling clamped down upon because it’s out of my hands, and as I have been doing for months, I wait.

I walked to the metro and three times considered running back into the post office to ask for it back. I still had two more days after all. I could still write more for the first question. I could add more insight. I could do SOMETHING.

I pushed forward as I wondered ... Would he give me it back? Is there some rule that after the postage goes on, it can only go to the mailer? Would I go back and see beady, Newman eyes as he laughed? I could see "Seinfeld" unfolding in my head.

So I kept going. Even halfway down the escalator into the subway I paused and thought I should go back up, but I didn’t.

It’s en route. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Tourney talk

I don’t know if I’m more irritated that Indiana actually bowed out in the first round of the tournament (yeah, I know ... it was kind of expected), or that this guy had a part in it:

I guess that headband is simply for fashion, since any purpose it might have ... say, keeping your man-bangs out of your face ... is obviously ignored.

Oh, how I’d like to see him in person. A 7-foot dude who styles his hair and quite possibly rocks accessories on a regular basis. Not something you see everyday. And not something you want defeating your basketball team.

Names

I usually read stories about baby names because one of my pet peeves are parents that come up with utterly ridiculous names like Jack Hammer, Candy Kane, Kitty Katz ... stuff like that. Why would you do that to your child?

Or the parents a few years ago that used "Version 2.0" instead of "Jr." Come on.

I'm not even a real fan of unusual spelling because I would hate to always have my name misspelled/constantly have to correct people.

I've always said I'm going to pick something taking into account possible nicknames and the like, so a story today caught my eye.

A person selected the name "Fiona," and her co-workers told her, "Oh no!"

"They automatically thought of all the bad nicknames," it read.

I might be being dense here, but I can't come up with any. I asked one of my friends, and she couldn't either. What are the bad nicknames associated with Fiona?

Help me out.

Funny photo of the day

Oh, young Brett, I don't care that it was the early '90s when you were in college and getting your call to the NFL ... those shorts were never a good idea.

Ill effects of sippin’ on gin and juice seen in next decade

A few weeks ago, a couple friends asked me what I thought of Snoop's new(ish) song, "Sexual Seduction."

Being that it was at the askers' wedding that I could be viewed singing "Nuthin' But a 'G' Thang" (after a rousing rendition of "Gin and Juice" a year earlier), I responded that no amount of coaxing or alcohol could get me bustin' that out at future wedding receptions. EVER.

Now today, a quote from the D-O Double G himself in a story about his transition to R&B, "I done made you party my whole career. Now I want to see if I can get you to cry."

Oh, Snoop, you're making me cry ... for Doggystyle. Seriously.

NOTE -- Still searching for someone to have a D.J. who will play me "Lodi Dodi" ... who knows, now I might have to wait for when my time comes. What do we think? Poor form for the bride to be on the head table rockin' the mike riiiight instead of mingling with her guests? :)

It has been a year

It hit me today that it's the 1-year anniversary of selling the Jetta. SO weird.

Surprisingly enough, I haven't missed it a bit. I wish I would have sold it as soon as I moved to D.C., but at that time, not having a car was complete crazy talk. I thought I'd never be THAT citified.

As much as I still feel a twinge of desire when I see a nice car drive by, as much as I'm thinking of going to the auto show this weekend just because I love cars ... it is SO nice to not be paying to park it, getting oil changes, having the emissions checked, going to the DMV, filling up the tank at +/-$3.09 per gallon ... all that stuff.

Yeah, if ... er, when ... I get the opportunity to move back to Indiana, that gas thing is going to be painful.

But it's one painful trade off for another ... take this for instance:

I have to tell the management company what my intentions are for the coming year by Feb. 1 ... even though the current lease period isn't up until April 1. Irritating.

They want to raise the rent $40 per month ... and I actually feel like this is a deal because last year they asked for a $75 per month increase. Sad.

I can re-sign for a year, or go month-to-month for an extra $100 per month ... which would put the rent at a whopping $1,895 a month. Painful.

After two years here, I'd like the freedom to be able to move at a moment's notice ... just in case, but if I'm still here a year from now I'll be SO mad at wasting $1,200. Better than the $7,000 early termination penalty I guess. Blah.

Having to make adult decisions: Total suck.

PostSecret

For anyone out there that hasn't heard of or doesn't read PostSecret every week, start.

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

Warning: It's one of the greatest and single most-annoying Web sites at the same time because ...

1) Frank posts new secrets every Sunday, but the new week's secrets replace the old ones. There is no archive. I get the worst feeling on some Mondays when I realize I forgot to check it the previous week.

2) There can never be too many secrets to read. It takes about two minutes to read the blog each week, and you're always left wanting more ... but you know you have to wait another seven days for it. It's not nice.

I've known there are books out there for awhile now, but for some reason tonight I decided I HAD to read them. Like NOW. I walked to the bookstore at 10 p.m. to buy one even though I can get them for much cheaper online.

I was through more than half of it in 20 minutes. I'm posting this blog to try to get myself distracted from reading it, so I still have some to read while I'm waiting for the others in the mail.

Now I'm looking at the book longingly ... I don't think I'm able to stop. And I can't stop thinking of the secrets I should send in ...