scene of the moment

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I’m stealing the title (and idea) from Mike.

Natalie (one of my secretaries): This phone call is for you.
Me (on the phone with Sarah): I know. It’s Julie. Can you tell her I’ll call her back?
Natalie: I already did that. Do you want me to tell the person from M to call you back, too?
Me: (to Natalie) What? No.
(to Sarah) I’ll call you back.
(to Mr. M) This is Chloe.
Mr. M: This is S (yes, we’re on a first name basis). How are you? I have Mr. B in the office with me. He’s the VP of Finance and we just had a few things we’d like you to do for us. K, do you remember her from the presentation?
Me: Yes.
Mr. M: Well, she would like to get this information out there, you know, in Business Week, Forbes, etc. But before she can, there are some numbers we need to tighten up. Mr. B is here to ask you some questions.
Mr. B: Hi Chloe. Can you hear me?
Me: Yes.
Mr. B: Well, I’ve had a chance to really look at your report and I have some questions. Do you think you can help me out with that?
Me: Of course.

What followed was a ten minute conversation (yes, I’m taking it off of my time clock) about things that they would like us to do before they can make our findings public. And then he gave me his phone number and told me that I was welcome to call any time if there is anything he can help me with.

Crazy! My life is crazy! I cannot believe what an amazing opportunity this has been and continues to be.

So, it looks like this semester, I will really be taking six credits, instead of three. I will be running one marathon. I will be losing 20 more lbs (I’m giving myself 3 months…I think that’s realistic). I will be applying to nine MBA programs (yes, I am crazy, but I also want to cover my bases).

Overwhelmed. That’s the emotion I’m feeling. Maybe I’ll finish reading Eclipse sometime next year. You know, when I’m taking statistics and visiting any of the schools that accept me so I can make an informed decision (of course, if I only get into one, that may not be very time consuming).

eight…

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Hannah tagged me, so here we go. Eight random facts about me…this might be a bit difficult since I feel like I share my random facts all the time.

  1. I love chocolate milk, but only when it’s Nesquik in powder form mixed with milk. It’s delicious. And it’s part of my favorite breakfast (okay…after Swedish pancakes) of a toasted English muffin (Thomas’…toasted under the broiler, not in the toaster) and two eggs over easy. I don’t know when that breakfast started being made in my family, but I love it. I purchased some Quick (the “no sugar added” version) last night and had some chocolate milk before bed. So good.
  2. I love scary movies. Not gruesome, gory movies. But the truly terrifying movies with so much suspense you have to cover your eyes in order to survive.
  3. Roller coasters that make my stomach drop and fear for my life at the same time are my favorite.
  4. I ran with the bulls in Spain (okay, way ahead of the bulls, but I did almost get mauled by one of the bulls while in the arena…I had never before and have never since hopped a fence so quickly in my entire life).
  5. I see words in my head. Every word I say goes through my mind like a ticker at the bottom of a t.v. screen. And, if I can’t see a word , as in I have no idea how to spell it and no guesses, I often can’t say it.
  6. I envy very odd things about people. I had this fantastic British secretary for a while who totally looked like she belonged in a band…it was mainly the way she dressed. I envy those girls who can pull off that style. I cannot. I will never look like I belong in a band. I will never be able to pull off skinny jeans with a cute t-shirt and flats…and it’s not a body issue, it’s a persona issue.
  7. I put ice in my milk almost without fail…unless it is very, very cold.
  8. When I was just a baby, I broke off a piece of my sister’s toy telephone and it got lodged in my throat and I had to have a tracheotomy in order for the doctors to a) find the piece of clear plastic and b) remove it. You can still see the scar very well (although not so much in pics). I scar easily and horribly.

the law of the ass factor

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So the title is a bit, well, offensive. I debated using “the law of the jerk factor”, but it just didn’t work for me. Yes, I’m a bad person. But the truth is the truth and this is who I am. Don’t you judge me. Don’t you dare judge me. (Or judge me, but just don’t tell me about it).

Moving on. Last night, Sarah and I were watching Stomp the Yard. For those of you who haven’t seen it, I have one word for you…yum. It is a bunch of fine black men dancing with their shirts off. The romance part of it is classic. Cute boy from the wrong side of the tracks wants girl from the right side of them, but she already has a boyfriend who, incidentally, is both good looking and wealthy, and, as we discover slowly, a jerk.

So, we’re watching the movie, drooling over Columbus Short, and then I say, “You know, the other guy could be seriously hot if it weren’t for the ass factor.” And that is when a name was given to a phenomenon with which we are all familiar. Let me illustrate.

When you first see the guy in the movie, he’s easy on the eyes, but he’s a total pig throughout the entire movie. And so, by the end, you really come to loathe him…and think he’s really not good looking. The reverse ass factor is also true. You can have some perfectly average person become completely irresistible. I like to call this the reverse ass factor transformation.

Personality makes such a difference (at least to someone who isn’t completely and totally carnal) when it comes to looks. A guy once asked me what my type was…and I really could not answer the question. I just don’t have one. I have dated tall, short, skinny, fat, hairy, balding, blond, brunette, blue eyed, brown eyed. I don’t have any kind of standard. I never have. Sure, I can appreciate a “hot guy”, but that’s about where it ends if there isn’t something of substance. This is how I’ve always been.

Maybe guys and girls are different this way, but I know lots of girls who feel the same way I do. It’s amazing how a guy who really isn’t that cute (sorry to use that word in conjunction with guy, but if that bugs you, you really should get over it) can become seriously attractive because his personality is amazing. There’s seriously a transformation of perception. It’s not that you can suddenly overlook his average appearance, it’s that it really is no longer average.

By the same token, and this is where the ass factor comes in, you can be attracted to a guy initially and talk about how hot he is and then, suddenly, you just don’t understand what you, or anyone else, ever saw in him. He’s just not that cute.

One of the reasons I love the movie(s) Pride and Prejudice (both versions…sad, but true) is the reverse ass factor transformation. It’s fascinating how, at the beginning of the movie, Mr. Darcy just isn’t the same Mr. Darcy as he is when Elizabeth finally accepts his proposal. And he hasn’t changed, physically, in the least. But I would submit to you that the betrothed Mr. Darcy is one seriously fine specimen. And there’s also the regular ass factor transformation…poor Mr. Wickham.

I have been very attracted to some very average guys, I have slowly become less and less attracted to some very good looking ones, and I once became super attracted to the hottest guy I have ever dated because he was also so nice and funny, (and had these great tattoos on the back of his amazing calves…he had a few rebellious years). It’s really too bad that I went a little crazy because we would have made beautiful babies…another post for another day.

I’m sure this is not new information. I’m sure most of you realize that this is the case. I’m not trying to say that hot guys are jerks who thereby become less hot, nor am I trying to be an advocate for the average guy and state that they are all hotter than you can imagine. Some hot guys have absolutely incredible personalities and some average guys are complete douche bags. I’m just telling you that you must remember the ass factor…and never discuss this with someone who has become, in your opinion, the beneficiary of a reverse ass factor transformation. Having had my own existential experience with this, it doesn’t matter how complimentary you are trying to be when you say to someone, “I really didn’t think you were that pretty when we first met, but now that I know you, I think you are beautiful”, it’s just a bad idea. No matter what. At least in my world.

My point…for those of you who are single (including me), when some guy you are not physically attracted to asks you out, or when some girl, who is perhaps a bit homely, starts to show interest, until you get to know that person, don’t assume that you will never be attracted to him/her, because you never know until you try. And, as per how others perceive you, remember only good things can come from being a nice person. Even if you are hot enough that you don’t think you have to be nice, someone may think you hot to begin with, but someone can also always change her/his mind…because the law of the ass factor is eternal.

14 miles that didn’t happen

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*Photos to come…I couldn’t take my camera, so I have to wait until Sarah posts some on her blog and steal them.

For the first time since beginning my path to the finish line, I skipped out on a long run. Having read my struggle with last week’s (that I did this week) long run, I hope you are able to grasp just how exhausted I must have been to miss out on a long run. I went to bed Friday night fully intending to run. I knew I was tired and it was a shorter run (you know, as compared to 18 or 20 miles) so I set my alarm for 7:30. It’s cooled off quite a bit, and my run was four miles longer on Monday, so I figured starting a bit later would be fine.

My alarm went off at 7:30 am. I grabbed the alarm (aka my cell phone) and turned it off. No snooze. No argument in my head. No voice with which to reckon. It was over before it began. And, do you know what? I slept until 11:00 am! I was so tired. Normally, I’m not one for sleeping in, even when I have the time. It creates what my brother Brad calls a “blah day”. I know you know what I’m talking about, and while sleeping in may not be the cause of a “blah day” in your world, it is in mine.

However, in this whole journey of running and weight loss I am really coming to know myself, my limitations and my strengths. And yesterday, my body just couldn’t do it. Between my crazy first week of the semester at work, beginning a class, diving into the grad school application process, a religion class, and various social engagements, sleep was just not on the priority list. I think part of the problem was also that, due to my lack of running during the week, I had a lot of built up stress. I’m amazed at how exercising really gives energy more than it takes it.

In any case, I was so tired yesterday that I couldn’t even stay awake long enough to argue my way into or out of running. In fact, I barely remember turning off the alarm. The good news is, due to a full social calendar yesterday (which included only one event, but took most of my day), I did not have a “blah day”. In fact, I’ve discovered that the only remedy for potential blahness is participation in a meaningful, useful, or somehow otherwise enriching activity.

Yesterday, it was the Jamboree Music Festival. I headed over to Sarah’s at about 1:00 pm. We weren’t sure exactly what time we wanted to get there, but we figured we had a little time to spare, so we headed to lunch and then to Barnes and Noble…where I purchased a book on resumes. We then headed to the festival.

It was fantastic. The first few bands that we heard were not bands that either of us were a) familiar with or b) super impressed by, but they provided for some great background music as I read through my book of MBA application essays (yes, I have a one-track-mind right now) and periodically looked up to people watch. I love people watching! And Sarah is one of my favorite people with whom to people watch. I could sit all day and just do that.

After a few mediocre, but full of potential, bands played (and I include Colbie Caillat in that bunch…she’s just not that good live), The Format finally took the stage and so my attention was turned completely to the stage (and gawking at the bad dancers who surrounded us). The Format is so good live. I was a fan before, but something about hearing a band you love playing live and doing it well, it’s just enough to make a girl swoon.

They were followed by Toad the Wet Sprocket who made jokes about the fact that many members of the audience would probably find their tunes vaguely familiar, as they probably heard them in the womb. Of course, I am not among that group and remember well the days when I would put “Walk on the Ocean” on repeat. Oh wait, not repeat. Repeat didn’t exist in my tape deck. When I would listen to it and then rewind the cassette, trying to master my timing so as to stop the rewind process at the beginning of the song. Those were the days.

Last, and most importantly, was Dashboard Confessional (and Justin, they played your new favorite…it was amazing). Sarah went over while Toad was still on and was standing about two feet from Chris Carrabba. As she’s the superfan, I stayed at the blanket to ensure we didn’t lose our spot or our stuff. What a show. I wish you all could have been there. Seriously incredible. Great musicians and great performers. And how glad was I that I hadn’t run, but chose to slept in so that I wasn’t completely miserable during the concert? Very, very glad.

And that is how my non-running left me happy and content. There will be no repeat of said non-running between now and the marathon, but it was a nice break. Tomorrow, the running is back in action, full force.