I Was Going to Resolve to be Less Lazy, But I Didn't Get Around to it Until Today

Well Happy New Year Internet! I know I'm a little late to the 2010 party, but man have I been busy wearing stretchy pants and eating treats. And that is how I used my remaining vacation days in 2009. Some people take vacation days to go to fun, warm, or culturally stimulating places. I take mine to go to Detroit. And eat a lot of food. And wear sweatpants non-stop. And that's when I was like hey, if I did the whole resolutions thing maybe I'd decide to be less lazy. But then I got tired and took a nap.

So my winter break was pretty relaxing unless you take into account all of the traveling around I did. Note how I said "travelling around" and not "travel." I imagine to "travel" is way more fun and life affirming. "Travelling around" is how you spend 45 hours of your "vacation" in a car in the ever exciting states of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan. Or how you find yourself crying on a New Jersey transit bus at 8am on Christmas Eve. Because, yes folks, that is how my Christmas vacation began. Sort of.

Welcome to the "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" nightmare of Krysta's Christmas Vacation. Remember how I said that on December 23rd I was going to drive home to Michigan with my pup and Jim? Remember we were going to leave right after work and drive through the night so we could spend all off Christmas Eve at home, with our families? Remember how nothing ever works as it is supposed to?

Well apparently there is some sort of rule (or a "law", whatever) that to rent a car in NY one must have a credit card. And apparently a maxed out credit card is no good. I know, I was shocked too. Well at 7pm on December 23rd we discovered this little rule. And because Jim does not have a credit card (how un-American of him!) and because mine is maxed out (very patriotic of me, I'd say) we had no rental car. The night before Christmas Eve. And despite the realization that I had no way to get home for Christmas, I actually held it together. Mostly because I'm inclined to believe there is a way to make almost anything work. I've talked my way into and out of many situations and I'm pretty good at finding a solution. I guess Budget Rent-a-Car didn't give a shit about these skills though, because to them a rule is a rule is a rule, and just because I'm cute doesn't mean they'll give me a car, and no they will not take a cash deposit because there's a rule against that too, and no you can’t use your debit card, or you mother’s credit card, no not even if she calls you herself and faxes in a note, and no they don't care that they are totally ruining Christmas.

BUT! Apparently this credit card rule does not apply to Hertz in New York. They are like the foreign diplomats with their fancy immunity of the car rental world. Funny thing about trying to find a car at 7pm the night before Christmas Eve. Uh, there aren't any. No cars in any of the five boroughs or at any of the three major airports. But at this point I'm still keeping it together.

And because I'm pretty good at making people feel guilty for not reading the fine print and not knowing about the law, Jim felt terrible and booked me a seat on a Greyhound bus that was leaving at 10pm. Here is where I would like to talk about how utterly depressing the NYC Port Authority is. Seriously, have you been? First of all the place is a total shit show. There are no signs anywhere and no gate numbers printed on tickets. I guess all bus travelers operate with a keen sense of telepathy, because seriously, I don't understand how anybody knew where to go. I had to ask no less than 7 people for help in order to find the gate for the bus going to Detroit. And also, holy shit you have to get there early! I showed up two hours before my departure, just in case, you know, because my travel luck had been total shit these past few weeks. Good thing! Because even though there is no security or even a semblance of order whatsoever, it will take you two fucking hours to get your ticket and then get on a bus. And good god, does everyone look so sad at Port Authority. Probably because they have to ride on a bus for 18 hours to make it home for the holidays. But at this point I am just so glad I'm going to get home I cannot be bothered with the depressing realization I will be spending Christmas Eve on a bus.

BUT! As I am three people away from getting on the bus I get a call from Jim. He has found a rental car! Albeit in New Jersey and for the next morning, but still, a real live rental car and from a state that will let you use your debit card for the deposit! But I'm only three people away from getting on the bus. And how bad can an 18 hour bus ride really be? And so I get on that bus. And I sit down. And my bottom already hurts after like 2 minutes, because those seats are not comfortable. And it smells funny. And then I start imagining all the fun Coney and Jim will totally be having the next day as they are road-tripping home. With snacks. And in a vehicle that doesn't have a bathroom built in it. And as I'm sitting there waiting for the bus to fully board I’m thinking about how long 18 hours, on a bus, a smelly bus, really is. And then I get up, get off the bus, and go dig my bag out from underneath. Because, I guess the answer to “how long can Krysta Butler last on a greyhound bus?” is: 10 minutes. I'm just not a bus traveler. I'm sorry. And now I am totally happy! Because yes, I'll be driving home on Christmas Eve instead of drinking wine all day, but whatever I don't have to ride with 70 strangers and a bathroom all night so I mean that's a total plus, right?

But, come on, did you really think it was going to be that easy? Of course not. Because the next morning, aka Christmas Eve, aka the day I was going explode with Christmas cheer I get a call from Jim at 8am. And he can't get the car in New Jersey. Something about a failed credit check. And now I am all, FUCK! I should have never gotten off that fucking bus. It was like an automatic jinx to even consider an alternate plan when I sitting on my ticket home. But I had to go and tempt fate and now I would be spending Christmas eating Chinese food with my ex-boyfriend in a small apartment some 600 miles from my family. And this is where I lost it.

I cried as I took the subway back to Saddest Place on Earth (Port Authority), and as I sat on the bus to New Jersey and as I walked to the Avis rental place that apparently has serious credit checking hoops to jump through, totally convinced that there was no way I was going to make it home for Christmas. And I swear to god Internet, I hugged Peter from the Avis in New Jersey when he handed me the keys to the Toyota. And then it was like the travel gods smiled upon us, because our 8 hour drive home to Michigan was flawless. No bad weather, no traffic, no crabby puppy. And we didn't even bicker once, which I am absolutely sure was the true Christmas miracle.

It Really Is the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Good heavens I love Christmas! And so I'm a little sad that with my manic GMAT prep these past few weeks I have done a poor, poor job of properly getting in the spirit. I have been listening to the Christmas station on Pandora while I study. But basically I am going to shove all the spirit into 48 hours.

I have all of Christmas Eve to bake cookies, wrap gifts, wear some sort of holiday sweater, sing carols, drink cocoa, and be suuuuper happy to be home with my family. And then there is Christmas day filled with gift opening, gift giving, a ton of food consumption, wine drinking, and rolling my eyes during some portion of the big family gathering.

I drive home tonight after work. Yes, drive. Through the night. With my dog. And my ex-boyfriend. Jim and I are still very good buddies but seriously we bicker like siblings. Or old people. Some of our friends think it’s amusing, most find it annoying, and the dog just sits in the back seat and whimpers. So I am inclined to believe she likes a two house family better anyway. For this trip I predict we'll get a solid hour of pleasant travels. The last 9 could go either way.

Last year we did this little holiday excursion in a snow storm with one of those small little rental cars. Boy was that fun. Let's hope for no snow this time around. Mother Nature has punished me enough this past week.

So I am now wrapping things up here in NYC before I hit the road. And then it's non-stop-Christmas- fun. I hope to avoid the internet for at least 3 full days. So, please, have a wonderful holiday wherever you are and however you celebrate!

The Time Mother Nature Shit on Love and I Had an Emotional Breakdown Hours Before the GMAT

Right now as we speak, or I guess as I type, I am supposed to be on an airplane, on my way to surprise my love for his 30th birthday.   That's just the kind of awesome girlfriend I am.  I will hold a boom-box over my head outside your window if I love you.  But Mother Nature was all fuck you and your cute in-love plans.  And instead she brought a winter storm through not only NYC but also the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast.  Or something.  I can't be sure because it's not actually snowing right now.

So this morning when I woke up to do a last minute review for my GMAT and put my toothbrush in my all packed overnight bag -- because yes, I was going to go directly from the GMAT to the airport to the restaurant where Brian was to have his surprise birthday dinner in a perfectly times series of events that left no room for hitches -- I checked my flight status, and at 8am it was already cancelled.  And because I have been non-stop stressed out and anxious for the last like 2 weeks I immediately broke down into a puddle of crying-emotional-breakdown- mess.   First on the phone with Delta, then on the phone with Brian, and best of all on the packed subway in front of strangers.

And over the course of the day I spent over 4 hours on the phone with Delta offering to name my first born after the airline if they could perform an early Christmas miracle and get me to Ohio.  With no success. There were just no flights leaving New York today.  And I swear to God if it doesn't start snowing enough to warrant canceling all flights I will have emotional break down number 2.  Because seriously there is nothing better than surprising someone you love.  In making them so happy they might pee their pants a little.  In seeing their face when they realize you love them so much you will eat ramen for two weeks straight to afford a last minute flight just to be with them on their birthday.  But the birthday crown I made for him did make it to Ohio on time.  So I mean he has that.

A House of Cards, Or Whatever That Expression Is

Ahhhh! (That is supposed to sound like exasperation, not a content sigh). Today is the day before THE DAY. Normally "THE DAY" is reserved for big events like a person's wedding or the birth of their child. Or whatever else it is that people go through an extended ritual of preparation for. But for me, right now, in my present life, "THE DAY" is the day of GMAT reckoning. And that is tomorrow.

Needless to say I am a bit anxious. It's a fairly important test after all. One cannot get an MBA and then go on to rule the world without a decent showing.  Things have been hinging on this day, "THE DAY." Completing applications, making, and plannning futures around "THE DAY" and how well I do on that test. I have been preparing for some time now. Re-learning Math. Hating myself for saying, upon entrance into college, "haha world, I will never take a math oriented class again!" I should have known to just keep my mouth shut. More than anything though, more that how I actually do on the test, I am really just ready for it all to be over with. To get my anxiety levels back down to a normal degree of neurotic. To have my nights and weekends back. To just be lazy again.

Also, as previous discussed (or whined about, whatever), it isn't just the GMAT that is pressing. There is also the business of renting out my apartment for the holidays, finding the perfect Christmas gift, paying my bills on time. It's all very stressful.  It feels very much like things are all in a very delicate balance.  This anxiety/stress has manifested in the most wonderful of ways. And by wonderful I mean pathetic. I am currently an emotional mess. Just the other day I was reading an article in the New York Times about women who either lost or quit their jobs and went on to start their own small businesses finding happiness and success doing what they love. And hand over heart, I swear to you, I starting crying at work while reading. It wasn't even an emotional account. It was straight forward and some of the women were working such long hours that they rarely saw thier husbands and couldn't even take a vacation.  But they were happy and successful and doing what they loved. And I was a mess. I blame it on the stress.

So you can see why I cannot wait for it to be tomorrow at 4pm. Because yes, I will still have to finalize a deposit from the couple who is renting out my apartment, and find the perfect Christmas gift for those people who I totally totally love, and pray for a Christmas miracle where everything comes together just so and things get done and bills get paid. But at least, at least, tomorrow at 4pm I will know how I did on that GMAT. And then I will get drunk.

The Detroit Project

The Detroit Project by Bruce Katz and Jennifer Bradley.

An interesting read.  Detroit needs to consolidate the city, build public transport, and find a way to use outlying unused land as a means to attract local farming.  Put a focus on local business and food.  Get young people excited about possibility there.

Hello My Name is Krysta and I am a High Functioning Compulsive Organizer

Internet, I wish you could see my day planner. Yes I have, and actively use, a day planner which is sooo 1995 of me, but you know what, I LOVE it. I love it so much I am even going to take a picture of it and post it on the internets. This way you will really be able to visualize my level of control-freak-ishness.

Here is a week in my day planner:

(note: the black-outs are for Christmas related things.  And I wouldn't want to spoil anyone's Christmas suprise if they were to read this.)

Please take note of the different colored highlighting. Blue is for exercising, because yes, I plan out my exercising. Green is for appointments or flights or meetings, yellow is usually for critical things, but because my life is one big preparation for the fucking GMAT it is now for GMAT and grad school purposes, and pink is for going-outs. Notice how there is no pink this past week. That is because I am currently anti-social and have not been going out or having any fun (if you don't count excessively organizing and planning out my day as fun).

I also really like to do lists if you couldn't tell. One item on my to-do list: catch up on past to-do lists. This is so I get to cross things off twice. Once, on the past to do list where the item it outstanding, and once on the current to do list when it is all, finally, complete.

I swear by the Moleskine Weekly Notebook. It is my favorite. I have been using them for the past four years, and SHOCKING, I keep them even once they are all filled up. I still have the past 3 years' notebooks; they sit together in a little collection on my bookshelf, and in a few weeks my 2009 will join them. They are almost like a little keepsake of my year. So I can flip through and pat myself on the back for being so productive. Or compulsive, whatever. Or for remembering when I did stuff. Like hey on January 14th, 2006 I met up with Kate for drinks. You wouldn't think that this is remotely valuable, but let me tell you something about the handiness of my ridiculous note keeping: when my best friend first found out she was pregnant, she contacted me about the date of conception. Which, ew, makes it sound like I was present or something. WHICH I WASN'T. But, apparently the conceiving bit happened after a few drinks with me (I'm pretty sure this is why I am the baby's Godmother), and of course I noted this going out for drinks in my day planner. Highlighted in pink, for the going-outs obviously.

Why I Am Starting to Go Gray at 26

I have this condition where I jump, usually blindly, feet first into things that interest me. I like to call them my projects. Oddly enough this jumping in seems to take place at busy times or in conjunction with other jumping ins. Or, like now, at busy times and in conjunction with other jumping ins. It’s almost as if I like to be operate in two extremes: completely lazy and living in pajamas or in hyper-overdrive. I think it's the Type A, overachieving, eldest child in me. The part of me with the compulsion to make lists. Multiple lists. Color-coded lists. Hello I am a nerd and I like notebooks and multi-colored highlighter sets.

So it should be of no surprise to anyone who knows me well, that when I got in my head that I might like grad school, it quickly turned into I LOVE Grad School! I have to go to Grad School! I have to go to Grad School IMMEDIATELY! Funny thing about grad school. It's kind of a big deal. A large investment, if you will. You have to research schools, and programs, and potential career paths post graduation. You have to have direction. You have to take a big important test before you fill out your applications. And then you have to fill out big important applications. And go on an interview. It's like they are looking for the best, most dedicated, serious people or something.

Funny thing about getting an MBA is that the test involved includes a healthy portion of math and problem solving. And data sufficiency (oh kill me now). Funny thing about me and math: I haven't used it since AP Calc a good 8 years ago. Hurrah for calculators and the wizard of Excel.

And because I like to jump feet first, often blindly, into things I thought that taking the GMAT a week before Christmas was like the best idea. ever. Most people who take the GMAT prepare for 3-6 months. I have shoved this preparation into a solid 6 weeks. And I had to re-learn basic math principles in that time too. So basically I have been doing some sort of math problem or, you know, 60 every day for the last month.

Sometimes when I do a lot of something during the day, that activity reappears in my dreams. This would be awesome if I was doing a lot of something super enjoyable all day. But, generally speaking, my days are rather lame. For example, at my last job, the one where my co-worker Joanie and I wore sweatpants everyday and watched a lot of TV on the internet, we went trough a phase where we did puzzles online. Often in competition (I kicked her ass most of the time… if only the GMAT involved quick puzzle completing skills…) and for a while there, we clocked in several hours of puzzle solving. Several hours. Of puzzles. I just re-read that and realized what a dork I am. And then I started doing puzzles in my dreams. Which meant it was time to move onto some other activity at work. Like crossword puzzles.

Which brings me to this: Internet, I have been dreaming in math. No joke. The other night Dream Krysta is all, Hey look I got it! r=56. But fuck, I have to convert the answer from Canadian to US. WHICH MAKES NO SENSE! It makes no sense because my brain is about to explode. Or leak. Or shut down. Or do whatever it is that brains do when their idiot Type A, overachieving, eldest child syndrome affected owners force it to learn too much in too little time.

This is all to say that I cannot wait for December 24th. Because on December 24th I will have taken the GMAT, rented out my apartment for the holidays, and driven home through the night to see my family, whom I haven’t seen in about 6 months. On December 24th, I can stop doing practice problems and tests and start my two days of stretchy pants and Christmas food consumption! And I will have two (two!) full days of leisure before I have to frantically complete all my applications in the one week before they are due! This is of course if I don't fail miserably or my brain doesn’t explode before then. Wish me luck!

The Time My Korean Mother Called Me a Floozy

First of all is that even how you spell floozy? Also where is the spell check on this updated blogger editing thing. Wow I am pretty advanced in my technology skills and technology speak huh?

Second, my Thanksgiving was great. The food was truly exceptional. I was planning on staying in Baltimore for the whole weekend but due to some transportation logistics I had to leave early. But really, it's probably for the best based on the amount of food consumption that took place in the two days that I was there. My pants were not going to fit if I stayed two more.

To give you an idea, I walked in the door upon my arrival to a huge spread of food including about 100 BBQ'd ribs. And that was lunch. Dinner was a consortium of deliciousness, full on Thanksgiving style. Upon waking the next morning there was Thanksgiving dinner #2 follow by laying on the sofa watching a movie, follow by homemade crab cakes, followed by more laying around, and ended with a light snack of Thanksgiving dinner #3. No way could I eat 4 more Thanksgiving dinners with snacks of crab mixed in.

And while a recap of what I ate this weekend is probably super riveting, I would be remiss not to tell you of the best part of the entire weekend. Shortly after lunch on Thursday, Chris and I are drinking wine in her room (which had bunk beds by the way. Yes, I slept on a bunk bed last weekend) catching up when her mother comes in. And she puts my face between her hands, and smiles at me, and kisses me on the forehead and I'm thinking wow nobody likes me thiiiis much, and she says to me, like only a Korean mother can, you know you are like a daughter because you are such good friends with Chris, so this is why I feel ok saying this... and she looks down, we can't have this here and then she buttons up my oxford shirt! My oversized oxford shirt that was apparently too risqué for Thanksgiving!

Gobble, Gobble

Hurrah for Thanksgiving! A day where it is totally appropriate, maybe even good thinking, to wear stretchy pants and eat whatever you want. I mean we are being thankful here people! Thankful that a man got lost on an expedition and later recruited more people to come here and make America what it is today! So eat up- to show your thankfulness of course.

For me, I am headed to Baltimore where my Korean family will take me in and shower me with love and food. And wine. Lots of wine has been promised. And apparently very helpful study flashcards. Because yes, I will be spending my weekend either intoxicated or studying. Or maybe even studying while intoxicated. We shall see.

But let's be honest, life is pretty good and there is so much to be grateful for. Like my awesome family, my amazing friends, my puppy who looks sort of like a mini baby hippo and definitely sounds like a piglet. Grateful for the gift of love in my life, for my health, and for warm pecan pie. Thankful for opportunities to do what I love, for a job that I actually like, for the possibility to imagine whatever future I want and actually be able to go out and achieve it.

So please enjoy your holiday. Give your loved ones a good hug. Eat a lot of food. And be grateful for all the good things in your life.

My Life is Awesome... Except for the Cockroaches

Internet, I totally jinxed myself. Just the other night I was talking to Brian on the phone about how awesome my life is, how much I like my cute little apartment, how I’m learning to appreciate living on my own. How I hadn’t seen a cockroach in months! And then, then I got cocky. I was all, I think I might actually take my shoes off inside my own, clean, apartment and do some yoga. Can you believe it?! What was I thinking?! No shoes. On the floor. In some sort of vulnerable, compromising position where I am stretching, lengthening, focusing on my breathing with very little chance for proper reflex/agility moves. Perfect time for a killer bug to taunt me! And if that isn’t a perfect example of foreshadowing, well I don’t know what is.

And wouldn’t you know. It was like from my mouth to the cockroach god’s ear, because last night I come home from work to do a little facebooking while eating some dinner. And just as I’m getting into some good internet stalking a roach came out of the shadows and tried to attack me. Or you know, ran right by my feet.

This is a great opportunity to examine how far I’ve come in the 8 or so months that I have now been living alone in a ground floor apartment. Because I did not scream, yes there was a weird sound that same out of me, like the audible manifestation of adrenaline, but no shrieking. There was also no lag time in deciding a course of action. It was straight up killer instinct. That cockroach had no chance.

This is also a great opportunity to identify key areas in need of improvement. Because while I have developed my in-the-moment-killer-instinct I have no deal-with-the-aftermath skills. So then I was left with a dead* cockroach lying on my floor (* for those unfamiliar with the degree of grossness, anxiety, and sheer terror that these things can cause- I stepped on him like 3 times before he would actually stop running and die, and even then his antennae kept moving around- which, hello! is terrifying). And I could not bring myself to dispose of him. So I do what makes the most sense to me at the time and call my boyfriend. Who lives in Ohio. Hurray for logic! And Brian, being a guy who likes to deal with problems suggests that I, just get a lot of paper towel and throw him out. And I’m all, are you out of your fucking mind?! There is no way in hell I am getting that close to him with my hands. I will throw up. I can’t do it. Now I’m going to cry. I knew I should have never gotten into my head that it was safe to take my shoes off!

And that dead cockroach with the one moving antennae would probably still be on my floor right now with me sitting nervously on the opposite side of the apartment if it weren’t for good ol’ Maeghan! This isn’t the first time Meg has come to my rescue. She once helped me with a cockroach before. And when I say helped me, I mean I stood outside the door of my apartment on the verge of tears as she scooped a dead cockroach off the floor for me with some sort of homemade cardboard scooping apparatus. And she was definitely terrified because there was shrieking, but she did it anyway.

But this time she brought backup! In the form of her lovely friend Elizabeth who was totally calm and collected and picked the cockroach up with just one paper towel! And she didn’t even scream out in terror once! She probably thought I was crazy. She had lovely plans to meet her nice friend Maeghan for dinner and a movie but then she got forced to go over to some strange girl’s apartment to throw out a dead cockroach. And I’m not even embarrassed. I’d much rather look like a total loser than pick up a cockroach with just one paper towel.