Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Truth Comes Out

I tend to have a Chloe side, and a professional side. My professional side is a little uptight and not that fun. But I'm always worried about letting the people I have to work with know how ditsy and clumsy my Chloe side is! It makes it a little harder to make friends in places like... business school... and... work... But hey, it's not like I spend a whole lot of time at those places...

Yeah...

So maybe it's a blessing in disguise that my quirkiness literally exploded at work yesterday. I mean, people have to learn what Chloe's really like eventually, right?

The potential blessing doesn't spare me the embarrassment, though. I was trying to make minute rice in the microwave in a container that was marked microwave safe. Little did I know, that marking did not apply to the lid. My bad. So, I was just sitting at my desk waiting for the microwave in the break room to beep, until Kimball asked who was burning food. (Do I even know how to save face? Nope.) I jumped up and said, "Oh, crap! Is it burning?" and I ran into the break room, opened the microwave for a second to see puffs of yellow smoke coming out, and I figured, that really can't be good. So I closed the door again, and ran out of the break room and closed that door, too. And I really didn't know what to do at that point.

Kimball mercifully bought me lunch, everyone in the office teased me for a while, and I searched upstairs for the biggest fan I could find, which turned out to be a small desk fan. Later I took my melted container out of the microwave and found that the entire inside of the microwave was yellow. Today I really should have "taken care of it," but I was still at such a loss for what to do. I have now sufficiently googled my stain removers, though, and am prepared to go back and redeem myself. Tomorrow my coworkers find out how good my Chloe side is at cleaning (although they probably doubted that today).

Besides the microwave incident, things are getting along pretty well at work. I'm getting to know people better in general, and there's even one other girl on my floor. I even got my own desk and locking cabinet! (Yes, that is a step up.) I've also been put on what seems to be a fairly you-really-can't-screw-this-up-for-me project, which seems to be a good thing. I mean, at least it means someone has a little faith in me. And thankfully, my ability to use the microwave has no affect on my qualification for that project. I hope. Right?

I'm just going to scrub that microwave real hard tomorrow, just in case.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Team Pikachu

Thanks to a few lovely friends, I have recently been able to start playing football again! Yay!

No really. Lots of yays! I don't know how I missed out on football for so long growing up, but I'm a total fan now. After practice this week I thought to myself, "You know, I've always kind of wanted to be a soccer mom. You know. Driving kids around and getting all excited about their games and knowing all their friends and bringing all the cool snacks and stuff. But I really don't care about soccer. Football is way more fun. Can I be a football mom? Do they even have those?" Anyway, the point of that string of thought is, I really don't think I'm going to get sick of football any times soon.

I mean, it involves strategy, which I like to think I'm good at since I majored in it and stuff. And exercise, which makes you feel good. And it's especially fun to play with a group of girls, because we all talk about being intense and scaring the other team, and then go practice with our husbands and boyfriends and giggle the whole time, and you can tell they're just wondering why we talk so much and don't just play football already. And that's a fun face to watch on a group of guys who really adore you all anyway.

(Another plus is that it's like, the only sport I follow enough to talk to my male coworkers about at work. I can't wait for baseball season to be over.)

But there's another benefit that's particularly exciting for me. When I was growing up I was always hesitant to play team sports because I wasn't very good, or didn't know the rules, or generally was afraid of letting people down. But--maybe it just comes with growing up, or having great teammates--I've just gotten over that with football. I've been trying to do more things I'm not naturally good at recently (Modern dance being one of them. Holy awkward.). It's not really that I've ever had a hard time trying new things. It's that I've had a hard time sticking with them. Throughout grade school, if something didn't come easily, I'd usually give it up for something that did. But that doesn't build character, and if you're as clumsy as I am, it doesn't build muscle either.

So, hurray for my awesome teammates! They are so loyal and optimistic and dedicated. And they forgive me even though I false start like, all the time... I'm just super excited to play, ok!

But also a hurray for my husband, who has stepped up and helped run our practices and write plays for us. I never expected him to get so involved when I decided to set up a team. He's been helping me practice my throws and catches for about a year now, so he knows exactly how much help I need to be decent at football (which is a lot). And he's still come to every game, gotten to know the girls on my team, helped me get team shirts, written a play book, and held weekly practices for us. It's a lot more than I was expecting, but I know we couldn't have improved as much as we have without his help (and the help of all the other husbands and boyfriends who we all appreciate so much! But, of course, mine is my favorite).

Of course, it can sometimes be hard when your coach is also your spouse. Because even if you talk back to them, they're still going home with you at the end of it all (which I guess could be a good or bad thing, but I was going for good thing). And although I sometimes get frustrated that Kam's not afraid to push me, I'm also glad that he knows that I need the push. Kam talks about how that's the point of being married. You have each other to be accountable to and push each other to be better. And that's how you get better, too.

So... Yay, football! And Yay, Team Pikachu! And Yay, wonderful amazing love of my life.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Breaking the Habit

So... I have a really bad habit of never finishing anything. Ok, that's not entirely true. When I have a deadlines for work or school or something like that, I always get things done. But when it comes to hobbies, I can just never seem to get things finished. So, although I'm typically a little more private about my paintings, I'm feeling a bit more confident about this one, and I could use some accountability for it. So I'm going to be posting my progress here, even if it takes me the next 20 years to finish. (Ok, maybe not. I don't know that I'll still be blogging 20 years from now...) But really, if you notice I haven't posted anything about my painting recently, feel free to hound me about it! It will totally help! (I think.)

But here's the caveat. I'm not going to tell you what it's going to be. So, sorry. Don't ask.

Today I got my paints back out for the first time in almost a year. I've just been so busy with school... and when we moved we didn't have as much room for me to work... But now I have no excuses. I am done with school. I don't work on the weekends. I'm actually complaining to Kam about being bored. And it is actually really getting nice outside, which is good since that's where we've decided my new studio will be. That's right. I'm painting on my freaking balcony. Doesn't that sound awesome? Cause it is. I can spread all my crap out on the table and make a mess without worrying about the carpet. (Which is especially important, because I've already ruined this carpet once. But with a hot pan, not paints. Don't ask me how that happened.) Man, I seriously forget how liberating painting feels. It also makes me feel a little bit like a hippie. Especially when I use words like liberating. And then I think of Kam yelling, "Freaking hippie!" but he is actually very supportive of my painting, because I'm his hippie. And he told me we're going to hang my painting on the wall.

But really. I sometimes forget that painting's kind of one of my things. It's like when you don't pick up a book for a while and after some time you've kind of lost interest in it, and you think, Eh, I could read... but you don't. And then finally one day you get bored enough to and you realize, "Dang! This book is really good! Why did I stop reading it again?" And then you can't put it down. (Please tell me I'm not the only one who does that.)

Only, unfortunately, you have to wait for paint to dry. And when you're like me, you have to wait for a lot of other preparation steps to be ready before you can keep painting, even after your first coat is dry. So this is all I got through today.


You can (hopefully) probably guess what that is. But it's just the background! So, don't think you know it all yet! Cause you don't! Ha ha! You'll just have to wait and see.