Yesterday was selection Sunday.
Today is the Monday before the start of the NCAA tournament.
Right now I should be paying my $15 to get entered into our office bracket pool. It's a funny pool though because you don't choose. You pick based on seed; everyone gets a 1 or 2, 3 or 4, etc. I think it's more fun that way. You can win based on sheer points or the champion.
What am I not doing right now? You guessed it.
Damn economy.
Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts
Monday, March 16, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Friday the 13th
Friday the 13th... superstition and freaky to some, but for me? I have some great fun memories of good ol' Kohler, WI and Friday the 13th.
"Now and Then" was the movie of choice. Rollerblading was the activity of choice. Sprite was the drink of choice. Good times at Kohler High, that's for sure. We spent countless summer afternoons rollerblading through Kohler's streets, stopping at the gas station or Woodlake Market to go get our bottles of Sprite to sip on while people watching on Highland Drive. We'd talk about crushes, the latest gossip in the small town, things of that sort.
Abi and I have been friends since middle school; sharing many of the above mentioned times together. We had this thing though about Friday the 13th. Something good always seemed to happen on those days; typically revolving around a guy. If only we could go back to the innocence of those days...
Today was nothing special; just another day. It just so happens to be Friday the 13th. I wish that something good would have happened; while I have a lot to be thankful for, I wish that extra bit of good would've been on my side today. On the other hand, I can be glad I didn't have anything freaky happen!
"Now and Then" was the movie of choice. Rollerblading was the activity of choice. Sprite was the drink of choice. Good times at Kohler High, that's for sure. We spent countless summer afternoons rollerblading through Kohler's streets, stopping at the gas station or Woodlake Market to go get our bottles of Sprite to sip on while people watching on Highland Drive. We'd talk about crushes, the latest gossip in the small town, things of that sort.
Abi and I have been friends since middle school; sharing many of the above mentioned times together. We had this thing though about Friday the 13th. Something good always seemed to happen on those days; typically revolving around a guy. If only we could go back to the innocence of those days...
Today was nothing special; just another day. It just so happens to be Friday the 13th. I wish that something good would have happened; while I have a lot to be thankful for, I wish that extra bit of good would've been on my side today. On the other hand, I can be glad I didn't have anything freaky happen!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
A funny thing happened...
A funny thing happened tonight while I was cleaning out a few boxes in the basement. C says we have so much crap for just two people. He's absolutely right. I have thse pack rat tendencies, I have to admit that.
I picked 4 boxes to go through tonight. I thought they were mostly magazines, but imagine my surprise when I came across some old sketchbooks. I thought I had organized these all in a box and gotten them all together, but boy was I wrong. I found 8 different sketchbooks, mainly from my first years of school. I'm not afraid to admit that my sketching skills are absolutely horrendous. I sometimes wonder how I even got into architecture school with those skills.
A little over a year ago I took the last of my models, photographed them just in case I ever needed them for a portfolio and then destroyed them. I'm not talking about just throw them in the trash can destroy, I'm talking about an all-out slamming them into the ground and trash can destruction. It was a fantastic feeling; all that pent up anger toward architecture school was let go. It was hard to see the hours of tedious, hard work go to the dump, but the sense of relief after I did it took me by surprise.
I had no second thoughts tonight throwing those little black books away. It brought back a rush of memories. I'm almost ashamed to admit that most of them were not good. That's for another day, another post, I guess. I neatly set them aside after glancing through them and then tossed them in the trash. They're out by the street right now just waiting for the trash man to roll through the neighborhood.
The other thing that caught me by surprise tonight were all of the writings I did in college. Most of the things I read through tonight I don't even remember writing. I expected to see the architecture essays, some of which I was quite proud of, but others I didn't expect to see... those English 1103 writings. Heh. I hated that class. Despised it. I started to giggle a little when I saw my reflection essay in my "portfolio" of the class. I had some guts writing that thing. I was so candid in that essay that I felt a little sense of accomplishment re-reading it. Weird, huh? I felt a sense of accomplishment in what I had written. I told the professor that I felt my level of writing had gone down since high school and that there was an unfair stereotype from the first week toward the architecture students when she said that she didn't care as much about us since we weren't going to spend as much time on her class anyways.
I remembered my love to write tonight. I remembered how freeing it can be. I read in there that I thought I was half way decent at writing. I'd like to think that again... but that would involve writing more. I mean, I still write here and there, but it's always for a purpose. I wrote a 3 page letter to the executive director at the Y a few weeks ago and was complimented on it. I wrote a short essay for Special Olympics last week for the Independent Tribune. I never write just to write.
A funny thing happened tonight. I was inspired to write.
I picked 4 boxes to go through tonight. I thought they were mostly magazines, but imagine my surprise when I came across some old sketchbooks. I thought I had organized these all in a box and gotten them all together, but boy was I wrong. I found 8 different sketchbooks, mainly from my first years of school. I'm not afraid to admit that my sketching skills are absolutely horrendous. I sometimes wonder how I even got into architecture school with those skills.
A little over a year ago I took the last of my models, photographed them just in case I ever needed them for a portfolio and then destroyed them. I'm not talking about just throw them in the trash can destroy, I'm talking about an all-out slamming them into the ground and trash can destruction. It was a fantastic feeling; all that pent up anger toward architecture school was let go. It was hard to see the hours of tedious, hard work go to the dump, but the sense of relief after I did it took me by surprise.
I had no second thoughts tonight throwing those little black books away. It brought back a rush of memories. I'm almost ashamed to admit that most of them were not good. That's for another day, another post, I guess. I neatly set them aside after glancing through them and then tossed them in the trash. They're out by the street right now just waiting for the trash man to roll through the neighborhood.
The other thing that caught me by surprise tonight were all of the writings I did in college. Most of the things I read through tonight I don't even remember writing. I expected to see the architecture essays, some of which I was quite proud of, but others I didn't expect to see... those English 1103 writings. Heh. I hated that class. Despised it. I started to giggle a little when I saw my reflection essay in my "portfolio" of the class. I had some guts writing that thing. I was so candid in that essay that I felt a little sense of accomplishment re-reading it. Weird, huh? I felt a sense of accomplishment in what I had written. I told the professor that I felt my level of writing had gone down since high school and that there was an unfair stereotype from the first week toward the architecture students when she said that she didn't care as much about us since we weren't going to spend as much time on her class anyways.
I remembered my love to write tonight. I remembered how freeing it can be. I read in there that I thought I was half way decent at writing. I'd like to think that again... but that would involve writing more. I mean, I still write here and there, but it's always for a purpose. I wrote a 3 page letter to the executive director at the Y a few weeks ago and was complimented on it. I wrote a short essay for Special Olympics last week for the Independent Tribune. I never write just to write.
A funny thing happened tonight. I was inspired to write.
Who are you?
Well, who am I?
I am...
-a wife
-a teacher
-a daughter
-a friend
-a sister
So who are you?
I guess that list will grow as I think a bit more. It's funny, I never thought I'd be married at 25, heck, this year will be our 2 year anniversary. I never imagined I'd own a house, have a puppy, the list goes on. It's amazing what life throws you. It really is.
At my high school graduation, you could've asked me where I thought I'd be in 5 years. Flash back to 2001 and I would've said that I would've never had a serious boyfriend, I would be living in some trendy Uptown Charlotte apartment with some fabulous architecture internship. Flash back to 2006 and life was drastically different from what I could've ever imagined. 2006 was a very busy year; April we bought our house, May I (finally) graduated architecture school and started working for the homebuilder full time, then in July we got married. I did everything I said I wasn't going to do, and nothing I said I was going to do.
It's amazing what life throws you. It really is.
Flash forward to today. I'm sitting on my couch while Clay is at work, Jackson, our 1 year old black lab is happily nestled all snug in his bed. Life must be hard as a dog. Eat, poop, play, sleep, repeat. Oh, and you can't forget look adorable in there. I'm sure it's rough work looking adorable.
John Lennon got it right when he sang, "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans" in "Beautiful Boy". "Life" was spinning around me while I was making all those plans in high school. "Life" is what forms who we are today.
I am...
-a wife
-a teacher
-a daughter
-a friend
-a sister
So who are you?
I guess that list will grow as I think a bit more. It's funny, I never thought I'd be married at 25, heck, this year will be our 2 year anniversary. I never imagined I'd own a house, have a puppy, the list goes on. It's amazing what life throws you. It really is.
At my high school graduation, you could've asked me where I thought I'd be in 5 years. Flash back to 2001 and I would've said that I would've never had a serious boyfriend, I would be living in some trendy Uptown Charlotte apartment with some fabulous architecture internship. Flash back to 2006 and life was drastically different from what I could've ever imagined. 2006 was a very busy year; April we bought our house, May I (finally) graduated architecture school and started working for the homebuilder full time, then in July we got married. I did everything I said I wasn't going to do, and nothing I said I was going to do.
It's amazing what life throws you. It really is.
Flash forward to today. I'm sitting on my couch while Clay is at work, Jackson, our 1 year old black lab is happily nestled all snug in his bed. Life must be hard as a dog. Eat, poop, play, sleep, repeat. Oh, and you can't forget look adorable in there. I'm sure it's rough work looking adorable.
John Lennon got it right when he sang, "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans" in "Beautiful Boy". "Life" was spinning around me while I was making all those plans in high school. "Life" is what forms who we are today.
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