Archive for the ‘everythingisgoingtobeok’ Category

I am a professional

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

On Wednesday I gave a presentation to our entire firm via webinar which is a seminar over the webernet. I wore my presentation-giving professional dress to look professional and fancy even though people couldn’t see it over the internet but I could see it in real life and it made me feel like I was doing a good job. The presentation was about a road diet database our office created over the past year two weeks. After talking to Aruba about street design for four months I thought oh great road diet database presentation to the entire firm nobigdeal they won’t even see my face and that’s when I became nervous because if the presentation doesn’t go well I will usually do a little song and dance to distract/entertain the audience but there is no way to do a little song and dance over the internet unless I cued up a youtube video about cats or something. Anyway I wrote out a little script and I did a great job and at the end my local office clapped. Then I went to the kitchen and ate six oreos.

The end.

What I meant to say

Tuesday, October 11th, 2011

There are two rules to House of Bland and Blog do you want to know what they are? Ok.
Rule #1. No Blogging at work
Rule #2. No Blogging about gentleman friends

Coincidentally one must now imagine which two activities are taking up all of my time every time all the time every day (hint I am almost bending rule #2)

The difficulty in not blogging when you’re with the two things you’re not supposed to blog about is that HoBaB has endured what is widely known in blogging as a feelings desert. It’s painful, I think, for both the blog and the blogger. I end up feeling like a negligent pet owner, right? If HoBaB were a camel? In the desert?

But really sometimes when I am feeling particularly antsy for HoBaB and I am with my gentleman friend I will sneak into the other room and pretend to write emails when really I am secretly editing a feelings draft for HoBaB. It feels shameful I start to sweat and get paranoid and look over my shoulder while crouching in the corner with the lights off and when I am gone long enough he will come into the dark room to find me and I’ll slam my laptop shut and say Nothing! Haha! Internet!

After a desperate and failed attempt to blog on my roast phone this past weekend I started to feel like maybe HoBaB wasn’t going to make it. And if HoBaB didn’t make it, what would happen to me? Where do all the feelings go if not on the internet? If you have a feeling and it doesn’t go in the internet and nobody’s around did the tree make a sound in the woods?

Ironically there is plenty of time to blog after work when there is a period of about an hour when my gentleman friend works on his science homework and I read all of my shopping emails (gender equality) and I think maybe he won’t notice my pink and red HoBaB banner. But he’s very observant (science!) and good at the internet (dream) so I figured it was only a matter of time.

You might think that this story has a happy ending. That last night after sitting alone in my bathroom typing my feelings furiously onto the internet the guilt became too much and I walked into my room where my gentleman friend was working on his science homework and while struggling to catch my breath I’d stand there crying and hugging my laptop in the door frame until I finally wailed, I HAVE A BLOG!

Very dramatic. And after all the secrets were released I could blog freely and openly and HoBaB would be like a leaping jumping grinning camel in a sunny damp rainforest of internet dreams.

Instead I’m writing this on my roast phone on the traincycle. Alone. But, in the end the first step, I think, is acknowledging the circumstances and, apparently, dismissing rule #2, at least for now. Ergo, this post. So. There it is.

Tune in next time when I tell you about the time in LA I went to Disneyland with /jec and Grandpa Lou. It’ll be great.

Secret Blogging – Flash Card Dangers

Thursday, September 22nd, 2011
I meant to write a post about the time last weekend that I biked 46 miles. But I didn’t because I’m wicked busy. I might still post it but there is only so much time for secret blogging so here it is.
Our company retreat is in like a week. Our corporate office just posted a company-wide employee photo list with the suggestion, “Get familiar with F&P Staff before the retreat!” So I acted on instinct (and the exclamation point) and decided to print the list, make flash cards, practice 10 per day, and memorize the entire company facebook by next Friday. It wasn’t a minute after making this decision that I stopped clapping, got the shakes, and started sweating storyofmylife?  At first I though wtf FOOD POISONING? before I realized that making flash cards and practicing 10 per day felt terrible and also terribly familiar because there once was a time in the history of feelings when I did just that and that was the Great GRE Tragedy of 2008 which was subsequently followed by a week-long blogless feelings coma and I looked it up and the long-term effect is called Flash Cards PTSD. To make matters worse, after remembering/suffering the memory of the Great GRE Tragedy of 2008 I then thought ahead to Company Retreat Weekend Extravaganza 2011 and a vision of my photo-face-memorizing strategy going public during retreat weekend (Hey, did you hear Alice from San Jose memorized everyone’s name??) and getting asked to stand in the middle of an employee hand-holding circle where I would be asked to point to each employee and announce their name one by one until I get to the CEO and blank and faint and get fired.
Are these the type of anxiety episodes I’m supposed to report to my head doctor?
Alice: Everything was going fine. I was over-achieving per usual when I suddenly anticipated the worst and blacked-out. What do you suggest?
HD: Stay away from flash cards.
Alice: Thanks doc! How much do you I owe you?
HD: one million dollars.
Alice: Sold!
That’s how therapy works, btw fyi bbq.

Drunk Therapy

Saturday, August 20th, 2011

I’m hungover. I know. I called my mom the first thing this morning and said, I’m hungover and both she and SarahSweeter said, Yaaaaay. The bad news is I had a headdoctor appointment AND a boxing appointment (same thing?) first thing this morning. Drunk therapy is like regular therapy except with more pauses. I kept losing my train of thought and my headdoctor would be like, How are you feeling? And I’d be like, Who? And he’d be like, What? And I’d be like, Yes? Very productive. Then I went to drunk sidewalk boxing which is basically like regular boxing except like at a bar after you’ve had just a several drinks. At one point I was like, oh god hold on give me a second gotta sit down and my tap-dancing trainer was like please don’t throw up on the gloves. And then he may or may not have asked me to go see a movie and I was like, are you asking me out and he was like just to go see this movie and then I said I’d rather go dancing and he was like maybe and then I decided that if my tap-dancing trainer asks me to go dancing there is about a 26% chance I would definitely not say no. Isn’t this exciting? Stay tuned!

First Week

Saturday, July 9th, 2011

I finished my first week of work. Success. I filled out a time sheet. I met the president of the company (his name is Matt. So casual.). And next week I am going on a field trip to San Luis Obispo. Big things are happening. I should buy more work slacks. On Wednesday I decided to buy some furniture and so I rented a car and picked up Peter at his happy place gym and then I drove a red flatbed truck while Peter sat next to me and talked about money and business school. Is this what being a grown up is like?  It’s exhausting. Then we moved a huge dresser up into my apartment which was terrifying but a success and now I am on my way to putting clothes into drawers instead of on the floor. Things are going pretty well.

Here’s my to do list:

Find a bank

Find a gym

Find a dry cleaners

Find a boyfriendhusband gym shoes for the gym

Should be a nice little Saturday. Then tonight Dana Peter and I are going to sit around and not talk about ourselves. Can’t wait!

And we’re off

Friday, July 1st, 2011

I stayed up. All night. Packing. And the cab came at 4:15am and I said Hello Cab! Take me to the airplane station! And he did. And then as I got in line with all of my luggage and my Mercedes-in-a-box I thought, something feels not right. Here’s a tip: When moving across the country with your luggage and your mercedes-in-a-box  don’t leave your roast phone in the cabcycle. It’s difficult to get in touch with the cab company to retrieve said roast phone and it’s equally as difficult for the cabcycle company to call you with any news if they have found your roast phone.

Long story short: My flight was at 6am, the cabcycle found my phone in his back seat, the cabcycle showed up with my phone at 5:45am. 15 minutes! I ran into traffic (safety first) grabbed it, then ran to security where the security officers had 0% sympathy which was confusing because I was being very friendly albeit shaky but they were like Don’t Cut! And I was like what is this 3rd grade? Wrong answer.  So then I found a woman who I had bargained with before and  she let me cut through and then I asked all the peeps in line if I could cut and then I had to go through security twice TWICE! because I had some water in my sippy cup. My sippy cup! I may or may not have cried. I told them they could throw it away and they said they weren’t allowed to open the sippy cup in the secure area and I was like you have got to be kidding me. So I went through security a second time and people let me cut without me asking probably because I looked shaky. Then I ran to the gate and I could hear a gatekeeper saying through the speakers, Alexandra Sweet are you here because we’re about to close the airplane doors and that’s going to be the worst.

I made it. I’m at the Chicago Midway Airplane station. Moving day so far has been a success. Barely.

Here’s a video about Yankee Doodle. (courtesy of gc bdoyk). Start the video at 1:33 to skip the history lesson.

Wednesday, June 22nd, 2011

I’m in San Francisco. I’m staying with Dana and spending 90% of my time on Craiglist looking for apartments no more than 1 mile from a CalTrain station. This is hard. So far I have seen four. The first one was in Potrero Hill and it was an apt with three dudes who are never there and the place is spotless and they have a TV and wine glasses on display. I interviewed with the guy who would be subletting his place and it basically turned into a first date and when I was like, so tell me about the neighborhood and he he was like ya sure but tell me about you and I was like hahahahaha and winked and left. Hopefully I get it. Fingers crossed! The second apartment was being rented out by a hippie couple one dude with a long blonde ponytail who was eating porridge with his Vietnamese wife. Good location, my own bathroom, super cheap, and I said how long is the lease for and they said we like to rotate people every four months and I was like Oh that’s convenient for me and then I thought omg are they looking for a third roommate to play kissyface? Do they want to have sexytimes with me? And then I left. So far so good.

Yesterday I had lunch with Dana and then I went to the SFMOMA because I still have my student ID and it was wicked cheap and then I saw two more apartments and then I ate potatoes with Peter. Now I’m waiting to hear how many apartments I get. It’s all very terrifying exciting.

Here’s a photo of me with Dana. More here.
Lunch with Dana

I’m packing

Wednesday, June 15th, 2011

I’m packing for California. I’m going to fly out to SF on Sunday and stay until I find an apartment. Then I’m going to fly back to Philly and ship all my things.

I found all of my old Moleskins. Like this one, dated Dec ‘06-June ‘08. An entry:

Shopping List:

  • Mayo
  • Fruit Preserves
  • Bread
  • Milk
  • Tuna
  • Bloomingdales

Glad I had my priority straight.

Also, I found my neon fanny pack from Aruba. Do I throw it away? Or do I put it in the “send to SF when I find an apartment with hooks/shelving for fanny packs” box?

UPDATE: More entries from Moleskin:

A recorded dialogue between acsweet and sarahsweeter:

acsweet: “Ugh. I wish my life was a movie. It’d be so much easier.”

sarahsweeter: “Ya, but then it’d be over in an hour and a half.”

later…

sarahsweeter: “I hate you. get out of my sweatshirt.”

Zoom zoom

Tuesday, June 14th, 2011

Today I took the Mercedes to get a checkup. They gave her (him?) new brake pads and a brand new chain and now she is turbo fast and I get honked at because people are like SICK MERCEDES or maybe people honk because I am taking up the whole lane and they’re wtf you’re not a car and I’m like, well, technically… yes, I am a vehicle. Then they give me the finger and I wave and give them a wink. Making friendships in Philly before leaving for San Francisco is really the best way to keep my anxiety levels at a tippity top maxxxximum.

Tater-tots for breakfast don’t be mad

Sunday, May 22nd, 2011

My camera is dying. It’s very sad. Mostly because Digideuce has been with me a long time and has documented so many, many food plates. He had health problems back in 2009 and has been doing well until recently but now his eye won’t open and I have to pry it open manually and then close it when I turn him off it’s very awkward. And also is probably bad news for the lens. I feel like if my uncle paul saw me closing my camera’s lens manually he would say, “Don’t do that.”

This weekend Kaitlin and I drove to New Jersey and went to the beach with Carrie and Lauren. Here’s a short film called, Where’s Carrie?

Then today Kaitlin and I drove up to Bronxville, NY where we went to a bridal shower. I have never been to a bridal shower. There were a lot of girls and dresses and balloons and salad and half eaten plates of cake and then the bride-to-be opened gifts. Kaitlin and I spent most of the time sweating because it was too hot inside and also we were hungover from too many glasses of wine on the beach and also because bridal parties are kind of stressful who knew? Maybe it was also bad because we had tater-tots for breakfast in the car. Those were delicious.