The Great Financial Aid Meltdown of 2013

I wrote a blog the other night about the no good, very bad, terrible day that I’d had.  You’re welcome for not posting it, I re-read it this morning and the melodrama just about knocked my socks off. 

 

As much as I love the challenge of trying to do something new, the other night things got just a little too hard.  Across four (yes four) ever growing to-do lists and with time ticking down to the start of summer, the weight of going back to school was feeling a tad too heavy.  Then the University of Florida struck again and I suddenly became unwillingly intimate with the new regulations guiding student loan disbursement.  I know that to get something, you need to give something but … well, I hadn’t factored in how hard loans are to get when you’re working on your second bachelors. 

In an act indulgence that typifies exactly how charmed my life has been, I gave into the overwhelmedness (is that a word?) and took a seat on the cool kitchen floor to let myself have a good wail.  At first I thought that maybe getting it out would make it feel better, so there I was, hiccupping and wallowing in snot on a more than slightly dirty kitchen floor (sweeping isn’t at the top of the Around the House list) and asking the empty air around me when things might get even just a little bit easier.  Not a lot easier but maybe just a little bit easier once in a while.  Sitting there alone I remembered what I always seem to come upon when I let myself go to pieces like this: this act of indulgence doesn’t in fact make anything feel any better.   

The thing is, I pretty much had a default “person" for most of my life to default lean on when things got really hard. (What?  Is that not what boyfriends are for? Could, in retrospect, this dependency (reliance?) potentially account for my singleness?) And so in that moment on the kitchen floor I gave myself an ultimatum: you need to pull yourself out of this – think a goddamn happy thought. 

And what did I come up with but burritos.  Mother effing burritos was the best happy thought that I could come up with.  So I shook myself and had another go: the incredible variety of burritos available.  And guacamole. Straight up pathetic (and perhaps a little hungry) but there I was, smiling through the tears.

Admittedly the smiles were weak and ultimately I had to call in the big guns and sent a “please help” text to Club Fun who pointed out: just need to get to tomorrow, because sometimes tomorrow is when it gets just a little bit easier. 

So while I’m not there yet, I am learning to pull myself up when I’m struggling and stalled but as long there are burritos and good friends in the world it truly does feel just that little bit easier that I need.   And Club Fun was right: the next day I found my way and it felt, just that little bit easier. 

Club Fun gets comfy and snuggles

Life seems to be speeding by uncomfortably fast these days.  I'm not sure where the weeks and months are going but it seems that as soon as I'm bemoaning Monday morning, it's Friday afternoon and I'm off again.  It isn't unpleasant so much as different, unfamiliar and, to an extent, unsettling.With time hurdling past, you can imagine my relief when one four hour drive brought me somewhere more familiar: the South Florida Club Fun Clubhouse.

There were prezzies from El Senior, matching ForeverLazies for those frigid South Florida nights when our matching Christmas pajamas just aren't warm enough. 

February 17, 2012

Then, after a morning of hauling 400 pounds of organic soild and turning it into an organic vegetable garden while El Senior manned the child care / sleep battle station, we celebrated by taking the Jackers to the beach. 
There's something about being at the beach that makes me believe in something greater than myself.  I vacillate between thinking that it's the vastness of sky and the ocean, or the rhythm of the waves, or even the wind.  There's something about wind that makes me close my eyes, breath deeply and lift my heart to the sky.  At this particular trip, I turned away from the ocean, the sky and the wind and found my favorite people. 

Perfection.

February 18, 2012

And I got to spend some good, down-home quality time with my JackJack.  Here and now, I freely admit that I am on a one-woman quest to become fun Aunt Banana...his favorite Aunt. 

February 19, 2012

Be brave and bring a lable maker

Have I introduced you to the mad cuteness that is the Jackers?  Probably but let me do it again because I LOVE this little bugger!

Originally known as Blueberry Bullivant - the JackJack has reigned as El Presidente del Equipo de Divertido since his arrival.  This is the longest reign since the creation of Club Fun and one that from time to time leads me to contemplate instituting term limits in the bi-laws.  While he is currently quite benevolent, though adamant about adhering to meal times, I suspect that his leadership may get a bit more tumultuous come the Terrible Twos and I just can't rely on any of us to vote him out of power.   He's VERY charismatic. 

Anyhow, I digress.  A few months ago I visited Mashleigh and the Jackers and undertook the challenge of cleaning out and organizing the nursery.  The success of this project has given me the confidence to attack sorting through my old bedroom:

December 29, 2011

Wish me luck?

Club Fun has breakfast

Club Fun has breakfast:

October 29, 2011

The Center Street Nook does breakfast in Jupiter like Satchels does pizza in Gainesville.  It's not fancy schmancy (seriously, I drank water out of a plastic IBC rootbeer mug) but the coffee was good, the food was OUTstanding and the waitstaff was sufficiently impressed by the snugglesome Captain Jack who, having sufficiently breakfasted earlier, napped through most of meal.

so about that 5K...

So the thing about writing things on the Internet is that sometimes details just have to be omitted for the protection of those around me.  Usually it's a details schmetails kind of situation but other times, well...the whole story just doesn't get told.

About a month ago I ventured down to West Palm to run in a 5K with Club Fun and I blogged about it here.  Looks like a lovely weekend yes?  Well it was, but it was exceptionally lovely due to a delightful little tidbit that I may have left out. Yes, Club Fun ran a 5k but it was a Club Fun of 4 instead of 3 as we had a new member along for the ride in Ashleigh's tummy.  Nine weeks along, little Blueberry Bullivant participated in what has become a Club Fun tradition to raise awareness and money for breast cancer research, such a little activist already. :)

So now that this news is out (with the permission of the proud parents of course) I need to call attention to the Club Fun Incubator who ran the race 9 weeks pregnant and distinct shade of pale green.  I can only tell you what a trooper she is and how I will never, ever be caught running a 5K at 9 week pregnant.  Squdges to you Madame Incubator, you are all that is woman. :)

I have to admit that when they first told me that they want to put someone up for consideration of membership I was not so sure, but one glimpse at the little tadpole in the ultrasound pic and I was convinced as to what a perfect fit he/she will be.

Welcome to the Club Mini-Bullivant, I am beyond excited to meet you and I promise that I will always share my Cheerios with you.  

Snowed in? HA!

Sometime around June-ish, it's going to be hot, humid, muggy and buggy down here in good ole swampy Florida. I know that I will be suffering hugely in a few months but I somehow feel compelled to further bastardize my weather karma by gloating about the insanely beautiful weekend I had last week while those up north were preparing to be buried in snow and sleet.

There was a Club Fun gathering this past weekend for what is becoming a traditional Susan G. Komen 5K.  Ashleigh and I ran it last year while El Senior was in class on his way to becoming El Senior, MBA. This year he ran also (albiet much faster than we) and several of Asheligh's fellow ISR instructors and friends joined us for the walk. 

Saturday marked the second time in our friendship that Matt drove questionably fast to get me somewhere that I need to be.  Thankfully this time did not involve a jellyfish OR a shot in the "heep," but rather the need to get to the starting line so that Ashleigh and I could rock out a solid 12 minute mile pace.  For this I nominate him to become the El Presidente of Club Fun. 

After the race / walk we came to my favorite part of the 5K tradition: lunch and cupcakes. The lunch portion is just part of a normal day, though on this day the lunch was spectacular and satisfying to the max at CG Burgers.

The only thing better than a cheeseburger and a beer is a cheeseburger and a beer that have been earned.  I now dream of CG Burgers and sadly live far far away from them. 

So while lunch is a fairly commonplace occurrence, the cupcakes...now those are just plain celebratory.  Last year we stumbled upon the cupcake store -- this year we sought it out and it was just as tasty as I remembered. 

Yum dark chocolate, chocolate cupcake with cream cheese frosting, yummmmmmmm.

Day two in SoFla was equally as beautiful, even more so since we didn't have to get up at 530 AM to go running.  The sun out shining and we made our way to a lovely little restaurant on the inter coastal where we lounged in the sun while we waited for a table.

 Please note the fruity drink in the corner of the picture above because that fruity, delicious and refreshing drink turned out to be nuclear strength.  Don't let the pinky-orange color fool you, it's tropical Long Island Iced Tea and once you are 2/3 of the way through it you will be drunk and slurring charmingly about your life plans.

It was a lovely weekend that was topped off by a visit to Monica and Ozzie in Tampa where, true to form, I was fed and pampered beyond all reason. There was sushi, tuna tartar and IKEA.  Sigh...it's a rough life. :)

7 Hours of Solitude

Christmas Morning First: waking up with no fam around.  I thought that I'd be bummed but with Wessy and Club to fill the void, I should have known better.  After a round of coffee and snickerdoodles on the couch,  Kristin came over and we had a festive morning with homemade waffles, bacon, oj and coffee.  It was a Christmas morning feast and no worries, we kept the Christ in Christmas, Wes wore his Raptor Jesus shirt:

Happy Christ Christmas Christ Steven Colbert!

So after a final trip to the dog park, and after leaving my bathroom cleaner than it was when they arrived, Club Fun departed.  They did not depart however until Sabra and Murlester forged a friendship:

JoeJoe never left the bedroom during Sabra's visit but given his history with doggies, we can only respect this. 

With the egress of Club Fun we have entered our 7 Hours of Christmas Solitiude.  7 hours until my parents arrive from their bastion in the frozen tundra of Minnesota and the Kukulka Christmas festivities begin!  I think perhaps a nap is in order :) 

Hello There Christmas Eve

I woke up this morning to the delightful smell of brewing coffee. I snuggled up to Wondie-ful Boyfriend for a few minutes and just enjoyed the sound of the kitties purring.  After a few minutes of what one can only consider pure contentedness I wandered out to the kitchen and found not only freshly brewed coffee but my Ashleigh.  I started to wonder at this point if it was possible that I had in fact made it to heaven but then I thought back on my past year, had a chuckle and poured myself a cup of coffee. 

Today has not been my traditional Christmas Eve but darned if I didn't enjoy it all the same.  After some lounging around on the couch with coffee we took my God-Dog Sabra to the dog park to meet a Bestie, Meredith and Step-dog Roobert.  Not to long ago I would have considered a trip to the "large dog" park to be on par with an enema but since the advent of the Tilda-Roop it's become, dare I say, enjoyable.  I'm not exactly sure what I want to do with my life in its entirety (I think I've got some time before I need to know this) but I do hope that I can find something that makes me as unadulteratedly happy as dogs are when they play.

Now, I was planning to take today off from running because my knee's have been sore lately and also because it's a holiday and I'll take any excuse not to go running.  Then Ashleigh, the trooper that she is, decided to run the four miles between Matt's parents house and my house.  I just can't be outdone / miss a run with one my fave running buddies and so I ran out to meet her and we had a lovely 1 1/2 mile trott together.  We do have a 5K to train for after all. :) Next stop, Stubbies and Steins for a few Belgian Beers and some Pome Frittes.  Just your traditional Christmas Eve is all.

Home from Stubbies, Wes lit the fire and I put some Snickerdoodles in the oven.  Snuggled up on the couch with the last glass of spritzer, a fire and the smell of cookies in the air I was completely content.  Little did I know but the Beef Log was coming home to me...holy GOD.  I know that the English have gotten a lot of shit over the years for their, how shall I say, lack of cooking prowess but when it comes to Beef Wellington I must say that they have gotten something entirely right.  Add in the whole Earl of Sandwich thing and quickly the Brits are climbing in my esteem. 

It's been a non-tradional Christmas Eve for sure, there's been no pirogi and there's been no family but if this Christmas Eve was to be joyful while lacking in family, this one has been it.  My parents will be here tomorrow, there's the gig-hugenest piece of beef sitting in my refrigerator just waiting to be roasted and I'm surrounded by people I love.  I couldn't be more contented. :)

My First British Thanksgiving

I bet you didn't know that those crazy Brits celebrate US Thanksgiving.  Should you toss the bull shit flag on this you'd be right (at least according to Wikipedia ) but if you think that Club Fun is going to let that fly, you'd be seriously understimating us. 

Meet Club Fun:

I think this might be the night that I learned you can put butter in rice
Deeeelish !

Matthew (former El Presidente del Equipo de Divertido, recently replaced by yours truly for survices rendered this past weekend) formally came into possession of a hard earned MBA from UF this past weekend.  Club Fun always endorses higher learning and celebrations were in order.  As is  par for the course with Club Fun meetings, funsies ensued. There was no cheese but there was beer, white wine spritzer, sushi and (a slightly belated) Thanksgiving, British style. 

Now, Matt is is your quintessential American guy.  He (rightfully) refers to football as football (none of that football-that-is-soccer nonsense pepetuated by the rest of the planet,) he quotes the Simpson's with inspiring accuracy and giggles when Harry Potter says "boogies."  Given all of this, it's usually a bit startling to meet his family who are all quite English.  Spend enough time with them and you'll find yourself using the words lovely and charming with increasing frequency.  This year, they had a belated Thanksgiving (awesome though they may be, they are Brits and thus are okay with having Thanksgiving in December) while Matt and Ashleigh were in town and I was invited to join.    This is nothing short of outstanding for me.

So you see, I've been hearing about the English Thanksgiving menu since I met Matt almost a decade ago. His American-ness encomapasses a zeal for Thanksgiving that puts most Thanksgiving enthusiasts to shame.  His enthusiasm stems from a love of gravy and he all but waxes poetic as he describes the house made of stuffing balls that he plans to fill with gravy and then roof with sausages.  Sausages you say?  Yes, British Thanksgiving includes sausages:

I have to say that they are an OUSTANDING addition to traditional Thanksgiving fodder and there will be sausages at Thanksgiving next year, this I can promise you.  British Thanksgiving was everything that I had dreamed it to be with tasty wine and amazing food made by Matthew's quite lovely and charming mom.  They don't have to include me in these family events but it certainly gives me warm fuzies that they do. 

And, because this was technically a Club Fun meeting, this entry wouldn't be complete without some Sabra lovin'.  She is the mascot after all.  And so I leave you with the unbearable cuteness that is Seniorita Sabra:

She's WAAAY bigger now but this is so unbearably
cute that I just have to post it :)

Ashleigh. AKA My Easy Button

Meet Ashleigh!

It came to my attention today that Ashleigh might just be my own personal Easy Button.  Regardless of how random or odd the dilemma or question at hand is, Ashleigh always seems to have a suggestion or solution that actually works!  It's the effective part of her solution that always amazes me, it's like she has the Bat Phone to problem solving central. 

When I was looking for a good book....

 ...here's a book that you'd never have 

even thought of picking up yet you will love! Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver and In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan were all results of the Ashleigh  recommendation hot-line.

I need Christmas music that won't drive everyone around me insane...

 ...try A Very Special Christmas 3.

It's no John Denver and the Muppet's but it's Christmas-y and a little less of an assault of other people's ear drums. 

I'm having trouble confronting a friend about how their actions are hurting me and people I love....

 ....here, based on what you told me 

I wrote a well reasoned, kind and balanced email to said friend explaining in a fair and measured way, the issues that you're having. 

I need jeans...

 ....oh, there are designer jeans on sale

at TJ Maxx right now...btw, you're a size 29.

I want to go on vacation before tackling graduate school...

 ...let's go to Mexico!  I'll organize it!

I found us an amazingly beautiful hotel, rented a car for about 35 cents a day and oh wait...here's a bunch of outrageously nice snorkel gear that we can use while we're there! 

There are many many more instances that I could use to prove my point, but I'm guessing that you pretty well have the gist of it.  It's a wonderful twist of fate as it were, I get this lovely person as a friend AND a myriad of solutions too boot. 

To Miami I went

Ah home.  Much like hobbits, I love being home and there's nothing quite like leaving home to remind me how much I my own bed, my kitties and my Wes.   It's boarderline pathetic I know, to become minimally homesick over the course of barely two days, yet there I was, hour 45 and just desperate to be home.  Still, being sent to Miami for work to learn something new is hard to complain about and there were definitely fun parts, so for your reading pleasure, I'll hit the high points:

2/3 of Club Fun had delicious Greek lunch.  Ashleigh put it best and so I quote:
    "that time we were both in Miami and got together for lunch but I got lost
     and you had to stand on a corner like a homing beacon and I paid a toll
     in pennies and we ate Greek food and drank Starbucks and I paid $15 to park
    in the scariest parking garage ever? That was awesome! :)"

Then I went to a conference where we talked about herpes and the impact of the latter on immunocompromised patients for TWO DAYS.  Seriously, two days of looking at pictures of and discussing herpes.  Varisella Zoster, HSV, Cytomegalovirus, Esptein Barr and that one with the insanely long name that I have no shot in hell of remembering. You get where I am going?  Lots and lots and looooooots of herpes, which brings us to high points numbers two, three and four:

Lots of coffee:

lots of coke can-bottles (which I find to be odd in a less than pleasant way):

and a little bit of happy hour while waiting for my flight home:

It was an interesting couple of days and when I got home I realized that this is where I love to be.  So I snuggled down in my bed and sent up a prayer of gratitude to the Universe for the fact that home equals happy.   Can't fight it and wouldn't if I could.

The Bastardization of Birthday Month

Let's start with the facts.  I love birthdays.  I think that birthdays are a fantastic opportunity to gather the people you love around you, whether in person or in spirit and just celebrate life.  While I also believe that should be more than a good enough reason to maximize the fun, I also believe that getting older is a gift and worth recognizing with gratitude.  At the risk of being that annoying girl who works with cancer patients and persists in waxing sentimental about life and the meaning therein, I also love that it's another year.  I had friends who did not make it to twenty-seven and I refuse to feign depression over adding another year to my count.  I will celebrate and I will do it alone or with anyone who wants to come with me. 

For reasons that I cannot understand, the reasonable nature of this philosophy is lost on many.  The almost automatic assumption of most people is that Birthday Month is meant to suck the life out of one's friends and families (much like weddings, if you want to believe what you see on TLC.)  Last year, I combated this campaign of misinformation and misunderstanding with a guest blog by the founder of Birthday Month herself, La Presidenta del Club de Divertida, Ashleigh.  Rather than try to improve upon her Birthday Month = Dessert metaphor, I will simply remind you of her infinite wisdom:

"Birthday month is not about other people doing things for you. Don't misunderstand - birthday month welcomes all who wish to join in the celebration. But birthday month isn't about the party so much as it is about person. It is about stopping to find out what you'd truly like - and using the month of your birth as a fine excuse for getting it or trying it or doing it or not doing anything." 

even better than bendy straws

Let's talk about cupcakes.

I may have mentioned before in this blog that I believe that life is all about the small things. Even if I haven't mentioned it though it ought to be self evident given the fact that I blog about bendy straws, nose picking and boogies. Admittedly the big things (work, relationships, exercise, food etc.) do take up a lot of time but those things are boring things. Why would we want to talk about those when there are politicians to eviscerate, teabaggers to make fun of and bodily functions to discuss!? Sadly enough though I suspect that the "teabaggers" have caught on to the colloquial implications of the term "teabagging" as they are only now referring to themselves as "members of the tea party movement." This is not nearly as funny.

I haven't made the time to do a whole lot writing / blogging lately, primarily because most of my neurons are focused on work. This and most of my thoughts have been a giant self aggrandizing pity party. You don't want none of that.

There was a whole lot of hurry up and wait right after I got my promotion and while I always knew that the fallow period would end I wasn't quite prepared for the return of rampaging insomnia to accompany the increased responsibility. Well it has officially ended, my sleep is less, my gym going in absolutely necessary and my days are 11 hours long. Maybe this is overkill. Okay, this is most probably overkill but I'm an overkill, perfectionist, anal compulsive, chart making, over preparing kind of girl. I want so badly to do this thing that they have hired me to do and I want to do it well. Success is absolutely not a forgone conclusion and I'm hanging on by my fingernails at the moment. For this reason I need to remember the small things, the awesomeness that happens in the brief interludes before or after work.

So let's talk about cupcakes. Not just any cupcakes but the fan-freaking-tastic cupcakes procured by 2/3 of Club Fun two weekends ago after puppy playtime. I'm talking about Cannoli Cupcakes:

And Carrot Cake Cupcakes:

I'm talking about potentially the most delish 10 minutes of the past few weeks.

Thank you Sabra for needing puppy play time, and thank you Asheligh for the fabulousness that is you. Only a real friend like you would respond to: "hey - is that a cupcake store?" with "let's go!"

God love ya!

An Amazing Day

2010 Susan G. Komen South Florida Race for the Cure

January 30, 2010

5K

Thank you SO SO SO much to everyone who donated to help me reach my goal of $150 towards breast cancer research. It was only a 5K run but it was done in honor of the women who have fought and continue fight this devestating disease. Over 20,000 people came together yesterday to give their sweat, their time, their money and their voices in the search for a cure . It was an amazing experience and an event that I am SO PROUD to have been a part of.

New Years!

All last week I was thoroughly eaten up with jealous that 2/3 of Club Fun not only had the entire week off but also got a new puppy. It's not unusual that this particular 2/3 of Club Fun were in cahoots -- I came to terms with the inevitability of this when they got married. :) But they got to cuddle and play with a puppy IN THEIR PAJAMAS all day every day all week long. I assume that they probably got dressed a few times, but I have it on good authority that pajamas were still in effect at 4 pm at least two out of the last four days. So in honor of the South Florida branch of Club Fun AND to maintain my good standing as a founding member of this esteemed club, I started writing this entry from bed and IN MY PJ'S at two o'clock on this fine New Years Day afternoon. It's is now quite a few days later and I am sadly dressed and at the tail end of a rather productive day at work. Nevertheless. I was IN MY PAJAMAS allllllllll day on Friday!

WB and I had a New Years Eve par-tay this weekend to ring out the old and ring in the new. Since we and all that associate with us are wild and insane party people - we had an evening full of Things, Champagne Punch (good call Rachel!) pasta and other various shenanigans. Despite a moment of severe disillusionment upon finding out that most of my friends are rat bastard commies who hate ricotta cheese in all of it's creamy delicious goodness - it was (obviously) wall to wall pants-dropping craziness.

I haven't really come up with any stunningly insightful New Years Resolutions as of yet. I've been resolving to learn how to do a back handspring (or was it walk-over?) every year since I was in graduate school. It has yet to even come marginally close to materializing, there's just something about bending over backwards and aiming for the floor with my head that seems like a questionable activity. Maybe this is my year?