"white lines..."

The second snow of the winter is beginning to fall outside right now. Or, The White Death as those around here prefer to call it. My clients from the north are always a bit surprised when I tell them about the typical reaction of people from this part of the country when faced with even the slightest prediction of precipitation below 32 degrees. While I freely admit that we are not as well equipped as our northern neighbors when it comes to dealing with winter weather, I think the general poplace gets far too upset about it. Instead of the guido triumvirate of GTL, we have BME: Bread, Milk, Eggs. These are the magic ingredients that will ensure one's survival should enough of the White Death befall us. (For the record, if I were really concerned about getting snowed in for any length of time, my shopping list would consist of beer, hot dogsand s'mores. All things I can cook in my fireplace and/or pass the time with.) Don't get me started on premature school closings....if I were a student, I'd be pissed about spending a gorgeous early summer day making up time for the impromptu vacation spent watching some weak-ass slush accumulate at the curb.

"get down with the sickness"

Some very lethal, virulent strain of stomach flu is apparently making its way around Memphis, and it so graciously visited my house this past weekend. I haven't dealt with that kind of illness in quite awhile, and hope to goodness it's at least another eternity before I have to again. I ended up nearly comotose for the entirety of the "snowpocalypse" winter event on Monday, which was a huge bummer. While I would have most likely been in the office for a good portion of the day, it would have been fun to take the doggies out for a little romp in the snow that afternoon. Here in the South we typically get only one good snow for the year, and I'm a bit surprised it happened so soon. It usually creeps up mid to late-February, just when everyone's minds are slowly beginning to turn to thoughts of Spring and warmer temperatures. Jack Frost always has to get that last-minute kidney punch in for good measure, it seems.

And so has passed into the record books the 2010 football season. I'm surprisingly not all that nostalgic and a little bit glad to see it go. It most certainly wasn't the "best of times" in Red Wolves history, but as far as that goes, it wasn't the "worst of times," either. Most of all I'm more excited than I have ever been about the 2011 season and our new head coach, Hugh Freeze. Unfortunately I have months of offseason to endure before kickoff in September.

Although we're only twelve days in and it may be premature, I am not exactly getting the warm fuzzies from 2011 just yet. I feel like in years past, January actually felt new and filled with the promises of change and expectation - much like the first day of school when I was younger. When I came back to work earlier this month, it just felt like I'd been gone for a long weekend. There was no feeling of a fresh new start or anything like that...just the sensation of sliding back into an ever-moving stream with no real anticipation for exciting things to come. (Please note that only really applies to my work life...I'm ecstatic about getting married in mere months!) I can't help but feel that we're all still reeling and unsettled from the merger/acquisition and changes from last year. I wouldn't have guessed in my wildest dreams that I would have had this experience this early into my career, but I suppose it's good that I've gotten it out of the way. I expect it may be more and more common in the years ahead, what with the economy and all.

"he's real smart with a real big heart, and he's gonna marry me"

So in roughly four months I'm due to take the plunge into matrimony. It's the most important day of my life and not such a big deal all at one time. While I have a deep, sentimental appreciation for the wedding day, I fervently believe it's how you live all of the days afterward that means the most. In some ways I think marriage is a lot like matriculation: you work hard to get the diploma and enjoy the day you throw your mortarboard in the air...but if sincere consideration and continued investment aren't committed to for the future, then really all you have is a piece of paper and an old robe.

All that being said, I think I've done moderately well with the planning and teensy budget thus far, but as the red-letter day arrives, I've become acutely aware of what has to be done still. Regardless of the not-shrinking-fast-enough to-do list, I enjoy molding the events of the day into my vision for how it should happen. With my fiancee', of course. Laugh all you want, but he's been extremely involved to date, and I think he's had a pretty good time with it. I'm not a big believer in the theory that all the groom has to do is show up and say, "I do."

I keep getting pressure from unnamed parties to relinquish these duties and let "the adults" handle it. And here I thought at 30 I'd finally be considered an adult. Silly me. It's been the sore spot of planning since the beginning, but chip on my shoulder has amassed into a gigantic, mountainous boulder. Being innately pascifist, I haven't mustered the cajones to confront...err, I mean discuss, my feelings with said parties. This personality flaw has bitten my behind more than I care to remember throughout life, yet I never seem to learn. I'm so Switzerland.

I'm trying to remain happy and hopeful in the fact that, no matter what happens between now and the nuptials - and whatever happens that glorious day - the end result will be something greater that I could have ever imagined or hoped for. After four years I'm still delighted by this man and eager to grow together for many more years to come.

That is, if he doesn't have to visit me through the iron bars at a maximum security unit after I'm convicted of manslaughter.

"let's get physical..."

I belong to a big gym, and that is no understatement. It's pretty much the Sam's Club/Wal-Mart of fitness clubs in terms of size, although I've likened it to a Four Seasons with regards to design and amenities. The sheer size, and the fact that it is part of a chain, makes more opportunities available for a highly variable class schedule, a child care area and an extremely wide range of equipment. I've really enjoyed my first year of membership and have made a lot of progress.

However...

I really detest the first quarter of the calendar year when it comes to the gym. That's when all of the people who have made fitness or weight loss a part of their New Year's resolutions come out and really punish those of us who have made fitness/weight loss a part of our lifestyle. I call them Resolutionaries.

Belonging to a huge gym has its drawbacks. A facility that large has to have the membership to support it, which means at any one time there are typically a few hundred people sweating it out in the same building. But come January (and this is not exclusive to my current gym - I've experienced it at other gyms I've belonged to, regardless of size), the Resolutionaries flock in the masses and bring with them the bad habits and behavior attributed to those who haven't been acclimated to the fitness society. I knew it was coming, but experienced the full force of it last night when I pulled into the parking lot.

Naturally, there was hardly a parking space to be found, and the Resolutionaries were driving in circles trying to find a spot near the entrance. Uhm...you're about to go in and trot around on a treadmill or elliptical machine. Is a few extra yards of outdoor walking really going to be all that bad? By the end of January when the Resolutionaries have amassed, I'll probably resort to parking at the curb along the sidestreet to the gym.

Once inside, the hubbub was unreal. It seemed like every piece of equipment was occupied, but that was no big deal because I was there for a studio class anyway. But as I wound my way into the locker room, I observed quite a few of the typical Resolutionary behaviors:

• Clogging the hallways, chatting with other Resolutionaries, instead of moving to the side lobby areas.
• Having overly loud cell phone conversations while in the restroom or locker room. I seriously do not care what he said about her friend's friend, and neither does anyone else in here. Get the hell out of my way so I can change clothes and get to class!
• "Saving spaces" or equipment in the studios. If your buddies can't get here in time for class, that's tough. Don't make me guess about how much room you all will need. If there's not a warm body present, I'm going to stand there.
• Standing only 6 inches behind me in the studio. It is kickboxing class, honey. I hope you have good dental insurance.
• Talking/giggling/not paying attention to the instructor while standing in the front row. The Cardio Lip Moving class is held in one of those side lobby areas near the front. I'd kind of like to see/hear what I'm supposed to be doing.

And the best one of all that I saw last night -- a real first for me:

• Storing your cell phone in your (already abundantly full) sports bra.

I really don't have a comment for that one.

It's basically a lack of awareness and respect for the other people in the gym who are serious about working out so they can move on with their day. These Resolutionaries are the same ones who will wimp out come the end of March. At least then they'll be out of my hair.

I'm in full support of anyone who's looking to make themselves healthier and pursue a fit lifestyle. But I tell you, I'll be really glad when these posers drop like flies soon and return to whatever, and wherever, else they do to annoy other people with their lack of respect.

"Love is real and not fade away..."

To blog or not to blog. That is the question. Over the years I've had an intense love/hate relationship with blogging. I love writing; I always have. My love of writing and creativity in general is what led me to follow a career in advertising. I hate that I'm so critical of my writing, though. I hate that there are so many wonderfully talented writers out there churning out pages and pages of real and interesting information when, at times, there seems to be a dearth of real or interesting things in my life.

And then I realized that I needed to decide what the measuring stick would be for me to be happy in blogging, and the consensus between me and my inner monologue seemed to be that as long as I felt resolved to share my observations - regardless of the level of newsworthiness or helpfulness to others - then I should continue to practice, if only to provide myself with a chance to express myself in writing not subjected to a client's whim.

Loving to write, and writing for a living can be an awful juxtaposition. That's partially why I stopped blogging, too. I was writing and writing and writing all day, but not for myself. And I can be particularly critical of my writing when it's for a client as well.

All that being said, I've never been a quitter in my lifetime, so what's the harm in picking up this old page and getting back in touch with my inner monologue? If nothing else, the timing of early January gives me a good excuse.

So here's to 2011 and writing for oneself. Fourth time's a charm and all that.